#with no night the air never cools down so it doesn’t move a lot

[wearethewinx]

Headcanon:

Solaria has a figure 8 orbit around two suns. That means it effectively has two summers and two winters per year, and the peak of summer happens when it crosses between the two suns, putting the planet through a few weeks with no darkness anywhere (because of this Stella sometimes sleeps with her lights on). The deepest part of winter is at the outermost ends of the orbit, where the suns eclipse eachother, and the poles do experience snow during those months

[yieldtotemptation]

REPUTATION ft. Minji

minji x male reader smut

9k words

“So, you’re the one,” Minji says, an accusation to make you look up from your drink. “The one they warned us about.”

Firstly, you didn’t plan for this (you never do).

The night began, as always, with the best intentions. You promised your manager that you would follow his instructions to the letter: show face, smile for the cameras, and then slip out before the real party kicks in and you find yourself knee deep in scandal. Again.

And (if you were extra good) you would end the night by scrolling through the greatest hits on your contacts list, looking for a fellow insomniac needing to past the time, needing a bed to share.

A normal, everyday kind of night.

But yet, here you are now: cornered by the girl on everyone’s playlist, all fierce determination and pouty lips wrapped up in a tight black dress.

She doesn’t bother with an introduction—no, that would be silly—instead she just stands there, looking pretty, expecting your full attention.

You quirk an eyebrow. “I require a warning?”

There’s a smile there, just a hint, playing at the edges of Minji’s mouth, like she’s in on a secret that you’re not privy to. “Beware of male seniors. Specifically,” she adds, tilting her head to the side, raising her hand, peeling one finger off the drink she’s holding so she can point a single glossy nail at “you.”

“Hm,” is all you have to say, playing coy, like this is all news to you. Like you’re not aware of your own reputation, of the things you’ve been accused of, the things your company has scrambled to cover-up, the things you’ve actually done.

“So,” she says, so carefree, so easily charming. It’s all an act, of course, a meticulously curated ‘cool girl’ image, something well-rehearsed and played a thousand times before on a thousand lesser men, a tightrope walk between relatable and unattainable. “Should I be worried?”

You know what she’s really asking for: an assessment. Do you find me attractive? Do I tempt you? Am I the type of girl worth risking your career over?

And so, you take her invitation and do the one thing that always gets you in trouble. You look. Look at her legs, long and toned and smooth, begging to be wrapped around your waist. Look at her thighs, creamy-white and barely covered by the hem of her dress. Look at her chest, the soft swell rising and falling with every breath, her collarbone glittering with the sweat of excitement.

Look higher—at how effortlessly perfect she looks, as if she wakes up every day looking like the ideal type of every man and woman in Korea. Oh, there’s make-up, it’s subtle but it’s there, playing up her best features: the height of her cheekbones, the almond curve of her eyes, the fullness of her lips.

She’s so undeniably, obviously gorgeous: a bombshell wrapped in the guise of a girl-next-door.

It’s no wonder she’s so fucking popular.

You give her a non-answer, “Depends what they’ve been saying about me.”

Minji takes a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours, her full pink lips curling around the straw as she sucks in the sugary liquid. It’s a deliberate move, so casually erotic—borderline pornographic, in fact—designed to make you want to grab her and kiss her and prove everything they’ve been saying about you right.

But she’s busy assessing you, you can tell, trying to reconcile the rumours with the reality—Can you really make a girl like her lose control? Make her beg? Make her forget about her image, her obligations, her entire life outside of your cock?

“Word gets around HYBE quick.” Minji’s eyes narrow just a smidge, she’s biting down into her bottom lip, and it has you imagining all sorts of things you’d rather she was doing with her mouth. “The girls at SM can’t stop talking about you. The guys at JYP hate your guts, so that says a lot.”  She smiles at that last point, before listing off, “fuckboy, heartbreaker, group-wrecker, industry villain.”

It’s funny, hearing your dirty laundry aired out like that, and you can only shrug, give a casual smile as if to say ‘who, me?’. It’s admittedly a practiced move, one you’ve used to get out of sticky situations before (you may have even used it as an ending pose once). “Is that what they told you?” You ask, nodding in the direction behind her.

Minji follows your gaze, glancing over her shoulder, the wall of noise and flashing lights of the club framing her face, painting her skin with a rainbow of neon shadows.

There’s her bandmates, doing a terrible job of spying, a trio of worry and concern and gossip: they’ve found their little bunny, and she’s been caught speaking to the big, bad wolf.

She muses, “we’ve all heard the same rumours…”

“And so you came to… what?”

Minji takes a step closer, close enough for you to get a whiff of her drink; one of those sugary mixes, deceptively sweet, but just as strong as the one in your own hand. “To find out for myself,” she answers, “to see if you’re really as bad as everyone says, to see if it's all hype, or if there’s actually some truth to the legend.”

“Legend,” you repeat, trying the word out on your own tongue (it sounds sweeter on hers). “That sounds a bit much, don't you think?” you ask, trying to ignore the way she’s leaning forward now, letting the top of her dress dip, revealing just enough cleavage to stimulate your imagination. A simple gesture, so perfectly choreographed that you'd think it was incidental if you didn't know better, if it didn't have you picturing what it would be like to rip that dress off her, to expose her bare tits, to grab, lick, kiss, and—

She’s giggling out loud now, like she can hear every single filthy thought racing through your mind. “I think I'd like to be the judge of that.”

There’s an alarm bell going off in your pocket, the vibration of your phone buzzing with messages—who else but your manager, demanding to know why you haven't gone home like a good little idol yet, begging you to please, please not make another mess.

But you ignore it and take another sip of your drink, savouring the burn of the cold liquor down your throat, giving you a moment to consider. You’ve got Minji figured out, you think. It's nothing you haven't seen before (nothing you haven't dealt with before). The dream girl, the ‘ideal type’ who’s growing tired of maintaining a perfect image, looking to see how far she can push, how much she can get away with (how much you’ll let her get away with).

Because she’s probably never been told no in her life. Because she's used to getting what she wants with a bat of those lashes or a pout of those lips.

In a way, coming to you is safe, because if the worst were to happen—if you were to get caught—no one for a second would believe that one of the nation's precious daughters was the instigator.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, cutting through the din of the club like a knife, making you believe that she just might be telepathic. “You're thinking: she’s just another innocent idol playing at being naughty for just the night, but the second things get too wild, she’ll be out of here faster than you can say ‘Dispatch’.”

“Because you’re not like other girls.”

“Please,” she scoffs, dismissing the idea entirely. “I always see things to the end.”

“Alright then,” you say. She’s thrown down the gauntlet, and you’re going to pick it up, if for nothing else than to see just how far she’ll go. "Shall we do this here? I'll rip off your clothes, nail you in the middle of the dancefloor in front of all our friends and peers?"

She’s grinning now, not backing down, in fact she’s moving closer, like yes, that’s exactly what I was hoping for. “From what I’ve heard that would be tame for you. Is it true, what you got up to at Inkigayo?”

“That was in a parking lot.”

“And at M Coundown.”

"Under the stage.”

“Music Bank?”

“The staircase, of course.”

“See,” Minji’s whispering now, close enough that you can hear her over the thumping bass of the music, her breath warm against your ear, “you are a man-whore.”

“I have a name,” you reply, dryly.

“That’s nice.” She’s touching you now, her hand sliding up your chest, fingers playing with the buttons of your shirt. “Wanna hear me scream it?”

Your phone is still buzzing, and you know that you should be walking away. It would be the right thing to do: it’s far too public, she’s far too popular, and getting caught leaving hand in hand with her would be nothing short of an announcement that will hit the top of every social media platform by sunrise.

But it’s too late—it was over the second you locked eyes with her from across the dancefloor, when she caught you staring, blatant and unabashed, lingering on the way her ass bounced, mesmerised by how her hips swayed to the beat. 

You just had to let her know she was wanted.

"Look," Minji says, her hands sliding higher now, fingers idly adjusting the collar of your shirt. "There's no angle here, no game. I'm not looking to get caught or land in a scandal, and I'm definitely not looking for love or a boyfriend or whatever fairy tale shit you sing about. I just want what all the other pretty idols are getting."

She's forward, no shame in saying exactly what she wants, daring you to dispute it, but all you can do is cock your head to the side, and flash a smirk of your own. "And what makes you think you're my type?"

Minji laughs, her teeth glinting in the neon lights—you both know it's a very, very idiotic question. "Please," she says, rolling her eyes, "I'm everyone's type."

Another glance over her shoulder, where her bandmates have been pretending not to hover, and now there’s a new face in the mix: Yunjin. Her eyes narrowed to slits, her arms folded, and her jaw is clenched so tight you can almost hear her teeth grinding from here. Unlike the other three, she’s not playing the concerned friend card; she’s the pissed off mother bear, ready to pull Minji away from the walking, talking red flag.

And so adds to your stellar reputation.

Minji notices your eyes flicker in that direction, and looking back at the group with amusement, she takes it as the cue she's been waiting for. "We better get out of here before they take your head off."

It's inevitable, really, this is how it always ends up: the sweet, innocent idol lured into the jaws of the industry monster. But you can’t help it, not when she’s looking at you like that, like she wants to be eaten alive.

You know the score, you’ve danced this dance before, and you’ve got a role to play. The only thing left to do is to take her hand and lead her out of the chaos—through the throngs of familiar faces, not giving them a chance to register what you're doing, or who you're with, or what's about to occur, again.

Not like anyone could stop it now, anyway.

"So, this is how it happens," you hear Minji murmur as you lead her out of the club, through a hidden metal door, and into the cold, night air.

-

Minji tastes like gin and lime cordial, her lips sticky and sweet against yours, her arms around your neck, her back pressed up against the back-alley wall. There’s something in the way she’s kissing you—giggling between breaths—like she can’t believe this is happening, like she’s getting away with the crime of the century.

Her hands are in your hair now, tugging gently, the cool metal of her rings pressing into your scalp, begging you to kiss her harder, to burn the memory of your lips onto hers. Your tongues meet in a dance that’s more battle than ballet, and she’s matching you move for move, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip, her nails scraping down your neck.

She’s eager, she’s pressing her chest against yours, making you feel just how hot she is. But yet, there’s still that annoying voice in your head, the last shreds of your conscience, telling you to give her that final out, to let her walk away with her dignity intact, go back to her members and tell them she just had to get some fresh air.

So, you pull back, tearing your mouth away from hers, giving her room to gasp for air, to let the world come back into focus, and you ask her, loud and clear, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Minji’s panting, breaths coming in short gasps, little puffs of steam out into the winter air, and she smiles. It’s a wicked little grin, equal parts surprised and thrilled, like you’ve just passed some kind of test she didn’t think you knew existed. “Are you asking for my consent?”

You balk at that. Your reputation can't be that bad. “Is it so unbelievable that I'd ask?” Even though you already know, deep down, she’s not going anywhere, there’s a power in hearing her say it. Saying that she wants you, specifically, to ruin her.

“No, it’s just…” Minji starts, looking up with those big, dark eyes, and you can almost see the gears turning in her head, trying to figure out how to play this, before ultimately landing on the word, “nice.”

She pulls you back towards her, kissing you again, those soft, pillowy lips of hers meeting your mouth in a kiss that’s so inappropriately sweet, like she’s sealing a deal with sugar rather than ink.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice steady, sure. “I want to do this. More than anything.” Minji tilts her head back, exposing the column of her throat, inviting you to kiss it, to suck, to bite. “I want you."

You don’t need any more convincing than that. Your hands are on her body, running over the curves of her hips, the dip of her waist, the swell of her chest. And she’s leaning into your touch, needing to feel more of you, wanting you to explore her. And you do, greedily, feeling her breath hitch when you graze her nipples through the fabric, feel her hips jerk when you trace the line of her panties.

“Are we going to—gah—go back to your place?” Minji tries to ask, her question punctuated by a moan as your fingertips dance over the smooth skin of her inner thigh, the hem of her dress whispering against your skin.

You’ve already made your decision—you're not taking her home, you're not taking her anywhere with a bed, or even a chair. You're going to have her right here, right now. There’s no need to answer her, you just let her work it out for herself when you push her back against the wall, when your thumb finds the slick, wet heat between her legs.

“Here?” She gasps, turning to look down the darkened end of the alleyway, at the distant streetlights, at the crowds of people oblivious to what’s about to happen beneath the shadows.

“It’s not the dancefloor, but it’ll have to do,” you murmur, leaning into her, pressing your lips against her cheek, her jaw, her earlobe.

“B-but, what if—” Minji stammers, but you’re busy toying with the lace of her panties, nothing more than a mere formality at this point, only existing to get wetter, to be unavoidably ruined by you.

“What if someone finds us?” You finish her question, nibbling at her ear. “Then we’ll just have to make sure we leave them something to talk about, won’t we?”

She’s shivering at the thought of it—the headlines, the think pieces, the whispered scandals that will follow you both for weeks, maybe months, maybe forever. But you can feel her resolve hardening, her spine straightening, her body arching towards yours, and she replies, “Then don’t hold back.”

The challenge is clear: she’s embracing the thrill of the forbidden, the rush of potential disaster, the heady feeling of need overshadowing the fear of getting caught.

You don’t disappoint. Your fingers slip under the soaked lace, and she’s sensitive, so, so sensitive. She’s staining your fingers, needing only the smallest amount of pressure to garner a reaction. You tease her, drag your finger across her tender folds, dare to skim over her clit, torture her with anticipation.

Whatever concerns she has evaporates as you kiss down to her collarbone—you’re going to leave a mark—and she’s already asking for more, “Please.”

She’s whining, parting her legs, desperate for you to do more than just touch her, needing you to rip through her panties and take her.

“You're right—I don’t care,” she sighs into the wind, handing her fate over to you. “I need you. Now.”

That's all you need to hear, everything you've ever wanted to hear someone as seemingly untouchable as Minji say to you. You pull down her panties, needing an extra tug as her slickness sticks them to her thighs—she’s so fucking wet for you—and you draw a circle around her entrance with your finger.

“Right there,” she cries. She’s much more honest when she’s desperate—gone is the posturing, the taunting, the act—she’s just a girl who needs to feel something real. So, you give it to her—push your finger inside, gliding in smoothly, a perfect fit around your digit.

Only knuckle deep but she’s already got you like a vice, squeezing around your finger like she’s trying to keep it captive—so wet, so tight, so fucking good. Her nails dig into your shoulders as you push in another finger, stretching her just enough to make her gasp, just enough to make her fulfill her promise to cry out your name, “Fuck—!”

Her pulse is racing like a runaway train, hammering against your lips—you’re pushing both fingers all the way inside her now, sawing them in and out of her, making her groan, making her repeat your name over and over again.

You’re in her ear, “you’ve got to be quiet, Minji.”

But she’s not having it. “Make me,” she laughs, daring you, another challenge she’s putting down.

You kiss her hard, replacing the laughter in her mouth with your tongue, muffling her cries as you fuck her with your hand, you’re going to ruin her now. You curl your fingers up to hit that spot that makes her toes curl in her sky-high heels, making her gasp, her head thunking back against the wall.

She’s trying, she really is, to keep it in, but she still needs you to keep her standing, to hold her up as your fingers delve deeper; to keep her from melting into a puddle all over your hand.

Still, you’re relentless, feeling her out, learning her rhythm, her reactions, the spots that make her sigh and fall apart. You know you’ve found it when her breaths turn harsh and ragged, and she’s rolling her hips against your hand, and there’s that noise—the sweet, slick sound of her pussy swallowing your fingers whole—and she’s whining into your mouth, “This feels so—”

“Hot,” you finish for her, watching as her cheeks flush a delicious shade of pink, her pupils blown wide, those angelic features of hers contorting with every thrust of your fingers. “You’re so fucking hot, Minji.”

And she is, she’s hot, she’s so hot around you, against you, her hips bucking at the praise, and she whimpers, your name a staccato prayer on her lips. “More,” she demands, but she’s tripping over her words—“more—please—how does it feel so—”

“I’m going to make you cum now, Minji,” you state, your voice low and sure, your fingers continuing their persistent rhythm inside her. She nods, panting against your neck. “And after that, I’m going to fuck you and make you cum all over again. Until you can’t walk straight. Until you forget every other name but mine. Do you understand?”

Her eyes flutter closed, and she nods again, a whine escaping her throat, and she’s biting her lip so hard it’s going to bruise—another mark she won’t be able to explain tomorrow.

You lean in closer, whispering, “Good girl.”

You’re finger-fucking her in earnest now, her body moving in sync with your hand, the alleyway walls echoing with the slap of skin and the wet sounds of your digits plunging into her, your knuckles smacking against her clit. She’s trying to keep it together, trying not to scream out loud, her eyes squeezed shut tight as if that could hold back the orgasm that’s barrelling down on her.

Her breaths are coming out in little pants, and you know she’s close, so close, she’s nearly crying. “Just your fingers—fuck—it’s just your fingers,” she’s repeating it in disbelief, like it shouldn’t feel this good, not yet, like she needs the mantra to keep herself grounded as your hand lights up every nerve in her body.

She’s there, right on the edge, only needing that extra push, that pressure in just the right place, just waiting for your word to send her spiralling over. “Cum for me now, Minji.”

And that’s all it takes.

You hold her steady, fuck her hard with your fingers, rub at her clit, and she’s clenching down, all tiny shakes and choked gasps, her eyes snapping open and then squeezing shut as she reaches the precipice.

"God—fuck—I can't—"

It hits her hard and fast and all at once—her whole body seizing around your hand, her cunt tightening, her hips thrusting forward, needing more friction. Her mouth opens wide, but you trap her lips before she can make a sound, kissing her fiercely, tasting the sweetness of her release on her tongue, feeling the tremors of her orgasm travel from her core to the tips of your fingers.

Her hands are all over you, her nails digging into your shoulders, leaving little half-moons in your skin as she clutches you closer, her tongue dancing with yours as if her life depends on it. You keep going, not letting up until she’s fully ridden the wave, and it’s a sight to behold—Minji coming apart against a dirty alley wall, her legs trembling like they might give out at any second.

When she does finally go still, when her breathing starts to even out, you break the kiss, pulling away to look into her eyes, searching for the usual signs of regret or embarrassment that often follow these kinds of moments. But she’s looking at you with something else entirely: a mix of awe and excitement, like she’s just experienced something she never knew existed.

“You okay?” You murmur, the question more of a formality than anything, because she looks absolutely anything but okay. She looks fucking amazing, a breathless, boneless mess against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every inhale.

Her eyes are still glazed over, wide and dark, her mouth slack and swollen from your kisses. You can see her trying to process what just happened, the reality of it all, but she’s still too lost in the aftermath of her orgasm to form coherent thoughts.

“Yeah,” she breathes out finally, nodding shakily. “I’m—yeah, I’m good.”

You withdraw your hand, giving her pussy one last gentle squeeze before pulling away, and she whines, a high-pitched noise that makes you twitch.

She’s flushed, her hair a mess from your hands, her lipstick smudged, her dress hiked up around her waist, panties around her ankles. The way she’s looking at you now, it's worship, like you're a secret that she’s just discovered and is desperate to keep to herself. “I fucking knew it,” she says. “The rumours were true.”

You smirk, wiping your hand on the side of your pants, watching her struggle to stand straight. “Ready for round two?”

Her gaze flicks downwards, to the bulge in your pants, and she nods, swallows hard. “Yeah, I—fuck yes.”

There’s no hesitation now, no pretending she doesn’t know what she’s signed up for. She’s all in, and you want her, here, now, because that’s what you do—you take what you want.

You kiss her again, deep and greedy, one hand on the wall behind her head, the other gripping her tight, keeping her in place as you grind against her, letting her feel the hardness of your cock, everything she’s been waiting for.

“Please, don’t stop,” she pleads, and you don’t—you can’t.

Not now, when she’s letting you tug down on her dress, letting it pool around her ankles like a discarded secret. She’s a vision, standing in the cold, stark alley in just her heels and her underwear—and there’s her tits, perky and perfect, begging to be touched.

You don’t even bother with the bra, you just yank it down, the straps snapping and the fabric falling away to reveal her nipples—pink and stiff and so fucking tempting. You can’t help yourself, they’re practically calling for you to taste them, so you draw one into your mouth, feeling her gasp against your ear, her hand sliding into your hair, holding you against her chest.

Her skin is hot against your tongue, and you suck, and bite, and lick until she’s whimpering, until she’s pushing herself into your lips. Your hand is exploring the rest of her naked body—running down her stomach, tracing the lines of her abs, feeling her stomach muscles clench with every breath she takes. She’s so tight, so toned—it’s like you’re touching a sculpture, or a personal playground made just for you.

“Oh my God,” she whimpers, “so good, so, so good, how does it feel—?”

Her words cut off as your teeth graze her nipple—she’s so reactive to every touch, and it has you wondering—has she ever been touched like this before? Has her body every truly been explored like this, pushed to these heights?

“You want more?” You murmur into her chest, your fingers returning to her wet folds, your thumb reintroducing itself to her clit.

“Your cock,” she says, sucking a harsh breath through her teeth. “I want it, I need it—please—I’m ready for it.” It’s that word—please—how it rolls off her tongue, the desperation in it, how it makes her sound so needy and vulnerable.

“Then take it,” you command, breaking away from her chest, stepping backwards to give her room to do exactly what she's been begging for.

Minji doesn’t miss a beat, hands gentle but determined, her fingers at your belt, fumbling with the buckle, loosening the zipper. She’s hungry for it, for this moment of truth, to verify for herself—what’s been talked about in whispers and rumours, what’s been taunting her all evening.

Your pants hit the ground, and she’s staring at your cock with wide eyes, and for a second you can almost see the doubt creeping in. But she swallows it down, and with a soft grip, wraps her small hand around you, stroking you from base to tip.

“So this is it,” she says, taking the full measure of your length, her thumb smearing the pre-cum over your head. “This is the cock that ruins idols. They said it splits women in half.”

You chuckle, but she’s completely ignoring you, well, ignoring all parts of you that isn’t your cock. Her hand is tentative at first, working its way up and down, feeling you grow harder by the second in her palm. You can feel her wonder, her excitement, a hunger matched only by the ache in your cock.

It's the way she’s not saying anything, just touching, feeling. Not that you mind the quiet—it's intimate, just the two of you, the sound of her breaths, your heart beating in your ears, and the distant thump of the world you left behind.

She’s gaining confidence now, her strokes more deliberate, a smug smile gracing her lips as she watches how you react to her touch. You bite back a groan, not wanting to give away how much she’s getting to you, but fuck, she’s getting good at this. She’s clearly learning on the job, eyes keen to see just how you like it—how fast, how tight—how to make you fall apart in her hands.

It’s time to reign her in, you’re heading into deeper waters now. You grasp her wrist, stopping her, ignoring her pouts and whines. “Not yet,” you say, “I’m going to split you in half with my cock now.”

That makes her grin. She does this thing, this cute little twirl, spinning around on her heels to face the wall, and posting herself up against it. Her legs spread wide, giving you a perfect view of her splayed pussy, glistening under the dim neon light. She’s got her hands above her head—she’s putting herself on display for you, like your own private Mona Lisa.

A look back at you and she catches you gawking—eyes glued to her ass, her pussy—and she winks. “Are you just going to stare, or do I have to make you fuck me?” She says it so casually, like she’s back at the bar ordering another drink. “Hurry up, please. I need it. Inside me. Now."

No more waiting, no further invitations needed—there’s teasing, and then there’s both of you craving it, dying for this.

You’re behind her in an instant, pressing her into the wall, her cheek against the cold brick, her juicy ass up in the air. You guide your cock to her entrance, the head nudging against her—she’s soaked, pussy drooling on your tip—and she gasps, looking back at you with those doe eyes, all wide and innocent—like she hasn’t been begging for this since the moment she looked in your direction.

“Fuck Minji, you're so fucking wet for me,” you say, running your cock down her slit, coating it in her juices, “so needy for me, aren’t you?

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice strained, like every moment without your cock inside her is torture. “I want it all. Every fucking inch.”

The first push is a slide into heaven—she’s tight, so fucking tight, so, so wet, like she’s never had anyone else—like she’s been waiting just for you. She’s teary, gasping, and you feel her body tense, but she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t dare ask you to stop. Instead, she arches her back, pushing herself back onto you, urging you deeper.

“God,” she’s chanting now, feeling inch after inch sliding into her, “it’s so—it’s already making me so—”

It’s slow, deep, fucking, stretching seconds into an eternity, stretching her pussy out with your girth, stretching her to fit you, to keep you, to never let you leave. It’s careful, almost tender at first—let her set the pace, let her show you how much she can take.

She’s moaning, low and guttural, and you wrap one hand around her waist to hold her steady as you thrust into her, let her get comfortable with your size, make her tits bounce with every pump, make her legs shake beneath her. And then there’s that lip bite again—she’s trying to keep quiet, but little moans are escaping her, getting lost in the night.

You ease out, then push back in, setting a steady rhythm that’s got her rocking back onto you. Minji seems like a delicate little thing, but there's a strength to her, a suppleness—she’s meeting you thrust for thrust, her pussy like pure velvet around your cock, gripping you tight, trying to milk you.

Hand finds her chin, tilting her head back so you can kiss her again—long, deep, tongue-filled kisses that make her whine and buck against you. She’s slowly, but surely adjusting to you now, her body learning the rhythm of your cock, getting used to being so completely filled.

It's in the way she's moaning into your mouth, like she's never been fucked like this before, never had someone so big, never had a cock so demanding of her tight little cunt. But she's so eager for it, her pussy so warm and welcoming, swallowing you up with every thrust.

It’s not normally like this—you’re not normally like this—but something has you asking between kisses, “You okay?”

She laughs, pushing herself back against you, pushing her cunt down on you, taking you deeper, burying your cock to the hilt. “I’m not going to break, I promise,” she says, looking over her shoulder, needing this. “I need you to fuck me—no holding back—I can take it all—everything you’ve ever given anyone else, all those other girls. I can handle it.”

“Show me.”

It’s throwing gasoline on a fire—she's asking for it, burning for it. You fuck her like you mean it—pull out all the way, force it all the way back in, hard, deep, rough. A shriek and she's wailing now, true to her word she’s taking it, taking it all, utterly lost in each perfect push into her cunt. She’s so beautiful like this, so open and raw—gone is the perfect idol, she’s just another girl getting fucked in an alley by some guy she just met.

Both hands are gripping into her hips, holding her in place, holding her upright, feeling her walls clench and release around you. Marks are going to be left there too, your fingerprints on her skin, bruises that she’ll have to hide with makeup tomorrow.

“So good—so fucking good—just—“ Minji can barely make out full sentences, let alone words as you fuck her, as you own her. “Harder! Fuck! Rougher!"

It’s like a drug, this power, watching her come apart for you, knowing you’re the one making her feel this way, knowing she’ll let you do whatever you want, whatever you need as long as it makes her come apart. And you’re feeding off of it, her words pushing you closer to the edge, letting her need for you drive you, unlock that primal part of your brain. Fucking her like this, so filthy and wrong and everything you love about this life.

You pick up the pace, driving your hips forward—"harder—fuck—harder"—until she’s shaking, her legs giving out, and the only thing keeping her on her feet is your cock and your arms.

“Fuck—I know what they said but—fuck! Is this what they all felt?” She gasps out, “is this how it always feels?”

Your lips on her neck, her hair sticking to your face, the scent of her perfume, of her, intoxicating. “It doesn’t always feel like this,” you answer, you grunt. “But you do. You feel so fucking good, Minji. So fucking perfect for me.”

“You're so big,” she says, her voice trembling, “I feel so—fuck—full.”

It’s not just the way she’s clenching around you, how she’s now able to take every inch of you like she’s been fucking you her whole life—it’s how she says your name, like you’re the only one that could ever make you feel this way, like you’re the one who ever will.

You grab her tits, squeezing them, seizing them, pinching and twisting her nipples between your fingers. All it does is make her beg, “fuck—I love it—how rough you are—” needing more of everything you have, “your hands—your cock—please don’t stop, don’t ever stop—I can take it please—rougher please—fuck!”

Something cracks inside you, and your hand comes down on her ass, the sound bouncing off the walls like a gunshot. Minji jolts, yelps, but the noise is quickly swallowed by a moan, a squeezing of her cunt around you.

“Fuck that felt—”

You do it again, and again, each slap a little harder, a little more punishing, the sting making her flesh jiggle deliciously with every impact. She doesn’t retreat, she’s slamming her ass back down on you, slapping her cheeks against your waist, needing to feel more.

“Gah—fuck—harder!”

She can’t help herself, minutes ago she could barely handle your size, now she can’t hold back from crying out for more pain, more excruciating pleasure.

Each smack, each groan, each breath that’s ripped from her lungs is a declaration of your power, of her need. And you revel in it, your hand coming down on her ass, leaving a trail of red marks against her creamy-white skin.

“More, please, more,” she calls for it, calls for the sting, the heat, her pussy clamping down on you, walls pulsing with every hit, her body needing the release that’s building up, inevitable and intense.

Her ass is nothing but a canvas painted by the strokes of your hand and the relentless pounding of your cock, and you can’t help but admire your handiwork, you're struggling to suppress the urge to lean down and kiss each spot you’ve marked.

“You’re going to be so sore tomorrow,” you say, your teeth grazing the shell of her ear.

“I know,” she answers, her voice a whine, a plea, a moan. “But this is what I wanted—to feel—to remember this—this moment—getting fucked like you own me—because you do—so don’t hold back—don’t ever hold back.”

You’re both sweaty, panting—you can feel her orgasm building, like a storm in the distance, thunder rumbling closer and closer until it's right above you, ready to break. And there’s your own, too, that delicious pressure at the base of your spine, the promise of release, coming at you just as quick.

But you’re not going to let her get there—not yet—not when you’ve got her like this, pliant and open and so in need. You lean forward, your chest pressing against her back, and slide your hand down, reaching around to find her clit.

It’s slick and stiff and wanting, and Minji screams—a high, keening sound that you want to hear again and again. You’re playing with it, swiping it with your thumb in tight circles, feeling her clench around you with every pass.

“I’m almost—God that feels so good—I’m almost!”

But you stop, pull out of her, abruptly, making her cry out, making her turn around, a mess of emotions on her face—desire, confusion, awe.

“What are you—” Minji tries to ask, but you’re spinning her around and pressing her back against the wall. Her leg comes up, wrapping around your waist, but you take it and lift it higher, testing the extent of her flexibility, throwing it over your shoulder.

She’s right on that edge, you can see it—her pupils dilate, her mouth opens in a silent scream, her body tenses, her cunt melting around you. But you weren't going to let her cum like that, not without watching her face, not without seeing the moment she cracks and shatters.

Now you’re face to face, chest to chest, her eyes needing yours to anchor herself to, needing to know what you’re going to do to her. No time for breaks—in one, deep thrust you're all the way back inside her, making her scream with the suddenness of it, the shock, the bliss of being so perfectly filled.

She groans, weeps with each pump into her, and she’s smiling through it all. “So—” she asks, struggling to form intelligible sentences. “How do I—fuck—how do I—mmmph—compare to the others?”

You grunt, barely registering the question, your mind clouded by the spasms of her cunt around you. “What others?”

“The other girls—God—the other idols,” she says, strained. “The ones you’ve fucked before—the ones you’ve ruined—how do I—aah—compare?”

You kiss her again, a bruising, punishing kiss that steals the question from her lips. You don’t need to answer that. You’re showing her. You’re fucking showing her how she compares, how she’s the best, the tightest, the wettest, the most eager. You’re showing her how she’s going to be the one they whisper about in the halls of HYBE and beyond, she'll become the story that will be told as a warning, about the sweet, innocent idol ruined in a dirty alleyway.

Your world is spinning around you now—there’s your hand on her throat, a gentle squeeze, just enough to make her eyes water, to make her breath catch. But she’s not scared, not with the way she’s grinning, not with how she’s grinding her hips to meet yours.

“Fuck—make me scream—” It’s a plea, a demand, she’s so stunning, so tortured in her need for it, “do whatever you want to me, whatever you need—just—make me cum harder—God please—harder than any of them ever did.”

Any care you had for getting caught, about the consequences of what you're doing—where you're doing it—dissipates into the ether. Nothing exists outside of the race to her orgasm, outside of your hips recklessly pounding into her, reducing her to moans and shakes and trembles.

“Cum for me,” you growl, “right here, right now, Minji—cum for me again—show me that you’re mine.”

“I was made for you,” she says, and it’s not just the heat of the moment talking, it’s something else, something deeper. She’s not just saying it to get off, she’s saying it like it’s a revelation, like she’s been waiting for you, for this exact moment.

“Prove it.”

It hits her like a fucking truck, and Minji’s screaming, filth belted from her mouth and into the night, her pussy quaking around your cock, her whole body entering into seizure. You keep going, riding out her orgasm, feeling her cum on your cock, feeling her body go rigid, her muscles tense, it’s those abs, so tight, it’s those absurdly strong contractions that have you falling after her.

“God—fuck, I—can’t believe—can’t believe—”

You’re fucking her through it, not giving her a moment’s reprieve, not letting her come down from that high, because you’re not ready for this to end, not when she’s so helpless. You hold her tight through it, let her shake, rattle against you, let her nails dig into your arms, let her cum drench you.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

It’s too much for her to take, and once the storm has finally subsided, Minji is just a ragdoll in your arms. Her legs are limp, held up by your grip alone, still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her makeup is ruined, a mix of sweat and your kisses, leaving dark streaks on her cheeks. Her hair, plastered to her forehead, her eyes half-closed, and there’s her body—marks of your teeth on her chest, her breasts, the bruises of your fingers around her hips, the mottled red of her ass, a map of your dominance painted on her perfect skin.

It’s not just the physical marks you’ve left on her; it’s the way she’s looking at you now, awe, desperation, realisation that it’s all true, every rumour, everything they’ve said about you—and she’s the latest filthy chapter in your story.

But you’re not done yet, you haven’t finished. You’re pulling out, and she’s whining, making your cock throb with her pleas. You guide her to the floor, to her knees, her dress puddled around her, the cold concrete biting into her skin.

You’re standing over her, looking down at her like she’s a prize, your prize. “Open your mouth,” you tell her, and she does, without hesitation, without question.

You grab your cock, still slick with her juices, and stroke yourself, watching her tongue dart out to lick her lips, watching the anticipation build in her eyes.

It’s the sweetest, most erotic sight you’ve ever seen—Minji, the girl that's everyone's type, the girl who could have anything she wants, anyone, on her knees for you—tongue out, mouth wide open, waiting eagerly for your cum.

And then you do it—you let go, shooting ropes of hot cum, painting her face, letting it dribble down onto her chin, onto her chest, onto her toned stomach, covering her until she’s a sticky mess of lust and desire. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away—she loves the feeling of it, shivering as your hot cum hits her skin.

She holds position through it all—knees on the ground, eyes closed, a serene smile as if she’s just been blessed. And when you're done, when your cock is finally spent, she looks up at you with a grin that's pure sin.

Minji takes a finger, dips it into the mess on her chin, and tastes you. It's a bold move, it’s messy, it’s wrong, it’s perfect. There’s the glimmer of triumph in her eyes, the knowledge that she's made you do something so raw, that she made you lose all control.

For a second there’s nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, the come down from your euphoric high. Minji speaks, still shaky from the orgasm that ripped through her. “That was—” she pauses, searching for the right word. “—incredible. Fuck!”

There’s a rush of arrogance, a smug smile of satisfaction at her confession. “So, do I live up to the legend?”

Minji wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing your cum across her cheek. There’s a glint in her eye, like she’s got a secret that she’s dying to share. “More than I could have ever imagined. You’re not just a man-whore, you’re a fucking artist.”

You laugh at that, as you tuck yourself back in, smoothing down your shirt, trying to compose yourself, pretending like her words don’t mean anything to you, like you don’t take pride in the validation of every girl you fuck.

“How do I rank?” she asks, the question coming out of nowhere, and you blink down at her, your brain trying to catch up. “I mean, out of all the idols you’ve fucked?”

“Rank?” you repeat. "I don't keep a list, that would be..." You trail off, realizing what you're about to say, and now it’s her turn to laugh.

“Crass?” she supplies. “I know, but I’m just curious.”

“You’re fucking fantastic, that’s for sure,” you reassure her, making her giggle, the laughter bubbling up from her chest like it’s the best compliment she’s ever heard. “Why—do you keep a list?”

Her smile falters for a moment, but then she’s grinning again, looking even more wicked with the cum pasted across her face, and it makes you want to bend her over and fuck her all over again. “Of course I do. And you’ll be happy to know that you’re number one.”

“That’s good to know.”

But then she says, “Of one.”

And you freeze. The air around you turns to ice, and she’s looking up at you with those big, dark eyes, and you realise what she’s saying, what she’s just admitted to you. You’ve taken her virginity, and she’s looking at you like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

“You were…” you start, but she cuts you off.

“Don’t,” she says, her voice firm. “Don’t make this something it’s not. I wanted this, and I wanted it to be with you. I told you: I can handle it all.”

But that doesn’t stop your mind from racing, trying to process what she’s saying. You had your suspicions—she was so tight, so new, so untouched—and now she’s yours, in a way that no one else can claim. You wiped away her innocence, and she’s not running, not crying, not regretful.

The weight of it settles in your stomach, a strange cocktail of pride and guilt. You’ve ruined her, in the best way possible. You’ve claimed something precious and pure, and she’s given it to you willingly, eagerly.

“Fuck, Minji,” you start, trying to find the words. “If you had told me, I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what? I lost my virginity by having filthy, mind-blowing sex in a dark alley with the best cock in all of Korea,” she says, pridefully, with her entire chest, fully believing every word she's saying. “Can you really tell me your story was any better? I bet whoever it was with didn’t scream like I did. Or cum so hard she couldn’t see straight.”

You cast your mind back to the past, and you have to concede the point. “I see what you mean. But still—” You feel like you should say something, but what? It’s not like you can apologize, not when she’s looking at you like that, like she’s just won the fucking lottery. “How does it feel?”

“A-ma-zing,” she draws out, rising to her feet. “Everything I’ve ever heard about, multiplied by a million. You might’ve ruined sex for me completely.”

You watch as she puts herself back together, sliding her panties back on, tugging her dress over her head and down her hips. She’s smoothing her hair back, trying to fix the mess you’ve made of her; wiping at the cum on her chin, her cheek, trying to erase the evidence of your encounter, trying to put the mask of the sweet, innocent idol back on.

But you know better. You know what’s hiding beneath that polished exterior.

“Come home with me,” you find yourself saying before you can think better of it.

Minji turns to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and there's that hint of challenge again. “Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “You want to cuddle and fall asleep together? Wake up, have breakfast in bed?”

“Yeah,” you nod, honestly. “After I’ve fucked you senseless again, of course. But yeah, come home with me.”

“That would be nice,” Minji says, a soft smile on her face. It's surreal, this moment, so at odds with the grimy alleyway and the smell of sex sticking to her skin. She looks so pure now, in complete contrast to how roughly you were fucking her just moments ago. Her innocence wasn’t lost, it was just painted with a fresh coat of your sin.  “But—you know I can’t. They’re waiting.”

“Worth a shot,” you shrug, not bothering to hide your disappointment.

And then she produces your phone, holding it out to you. “You need to be more careful with your things.”

“When did you—”

“Now you’ve got my number,” she says. “You’re welcome to do whatever it is you want with it. But I’m hoping you use it.”

You take it out of her hands, swiping away the string of missed calls and messages, the digital proof of how much trouble you’re going to be in come morning. But for now, it’s irrelevant. For now, there’s only Minji, and the way she’s standing there, looking up at you, smiling like she’s just stepped off the stage.

“You’re going to go back to them?” you ask, gesturing towards the club entrance, to where the rest of her group are probably still gossiping, plotting your downfall.

“Of course,” Minji says. “They’re my friends. They care about me. They’ll want to make sure I’m okay.”

“And when they find out what we just did?”

“Oh, they’re going to want to kill you,” she answers, with a giggle. You’ve had enough of these types of conversations to know she’s not joking. “Except Dani, maybe. She’ll probably want a shot at you too. If I let her.”

"Noted," you say, trying to keep the image of Danielle, splayed against the wall like Minji before her, out of your head. "What exactly are you going to tell them?"

Minji pauses, thinking, before landing on a succinct summary. "I’ll just tell them that you fucked my brains out and then ditched me in an alley.”

You sigh, “sounds brutal.”

“Well, it is what it is,” Minji says, and she’s pressing a kiss to your cheek, her lips still sticky with the residue of your cum, the last traces of what's just happened.

You watch her go, watch as she turns away, walking back towards the club, a little stumble, a little trouble keeping steady. You should be feeling guilty, you should be regretting this, but all you can think is how good it felt, how right it felt. And you know you’ll do it again—you know it deep in your bones.

Minji turns back to you, catching your eye, catching you staring again, and she smiles. “You better go now. You do have a reputation to maintain, after all.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

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@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

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@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

glint of metal

words: 800

warnings: 18+ only, male receiving oral, reader is described as experienced and has a tongue piercing!, facefucking, drinking, semi public sex

rafe doesn’t expect to see the glint of metal when you laugh. he zeroes in on watching your mouth, waiting to see a peek of the piercing every time. he waits until the right time before approaching you, both a couple drinks into the night but not drunk yet, just slightly tipsy.

“your tongue piercing is so hot.” rafe says, hand planted against your lower back, pulling you closer into him as he speaks into your ear over the noise of the party, the loud chatting and pumping bass.

“want me to show you some more of it?” you smirk, pressing closer to rafe, letting him feel every groove of your body, the way your breasts squish against him.

you move quickly through the house until you find an empty room. you’re on your knees before rafe can even plant a kiss on your mouth. he wants to feel what its like to flick his tongue against the metal ball, but it’ll have to wait as you reach for his pants.

rafe watches you as you undo them with ease, clearly used to this sunken position, on your knees looking up to a man. hes just glad it’s him this time. you tug his khakis down, revealing his underwear, cock already growing against the fabric.

you smirk as your tongue sticks out of your mouth, dragging along his length. rafe can feel the difference in texture, but he wants to feel the coolness of the shiny metal. he drags his underwear down his hips, not caring that you were planning on teasing him longer.

you smile as his cock is revealed, not the longest you’ve seen but deliciously thick. you know its going to stretch your throat when you take him all the way in, but you don’t allow him access that easily, grasping the base of his cock to hold it steady as you press kisses to his length, tongue occasionally flicking out but not far enough to feel the piercing yet.

“come on.” rafe groans, reaching to tug at your hair.

you let out a giggle, teasing for a few more seconds before your mouth drops open, tongue coming out to protect his cock from your teeth, but also to stimulate him with the different texture. one he’s never felt before.

you sink down slowly, allowing yourself to get used to having him swelling in your mouth. rafe allows you to take it steady at first, just enjoying the way your slight movements feel.

your intensity turns up quickly as soon as you are adjusted, head bobbing up and down, greedily feeling along every inch of him, even moving your hands to his thighs so you can get all the way down to the base. rafe moans above you are loud and unabashed, not caring if people hear, not when he's got you on your knees in front of him.

“fuck, you're so good.” rafe groans out. it's not just the piece of metal in your mouth that makes the blowjob so good, you've clearly got a talent and a lot of practice. rafe is tempted to ask you if you got the piercing just to make your blowjobs better, but he doesn't want you to stop for a single second to answer.

you pick your pace up, determined to feel rafe release in your mouth, wanting to know what his cum tastes like on your tongue.

rafe meets your pace, rocking forward but still letting you dictate, making a point to slide your tongue back and forth with his every thrust.

you pull away from rafe with a gasp, needing to intake air as you press a kiss to his tip. “fuck my mouth.” 

rafe smirks. he was hoping you'd let him, but he'd take anything you're willing to give. rafe grips your hair on either side of your head, watching the way you prepare yourself with a few deep breaths before your jaw falls open, slackening as your piercing reveals itself, glinting in the low lighting of the guest bedroom you've found yourself in.

rafe pushes in, maintaining the pace that you started, but slowly building up until he's fucking into your mouth, tears streaming down your face, ruining your party makeup.

“fuck.” rafe groans, looking down at the mess he's made of you. “gonna cum.”

he continues to push down your throat until his cock swells, pulling back to jack himself off, tip held over your awaiting gaping mouth.

it takes him seconds to cum, white ropes shooting out and covering your tongue, causing the piercing to disappear as rafe moans throughout his orgasm.

“fuck.” he grunts out, tugging his cock for the last few drops before taking a staggering step back. you keep your mouth open despite the corners stretching into a smile, making sure rafe sees the cum you're keeping in your mouth before swallowing it, even going as far as to lick your lips.

rafe redresses as you recover, standing up and stretching out your legs, knowing you'll have purple knees come morning.

the conversation after is always awkward, but rafe just gives you a smirk, ever his charming self. “let me get you drink?”

“usually guys offer that first, but okay.” you giggle, letting him lead you out of the room and back into the party, not caring who stares at you.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs

[nightsandrewrites]

Illyrian Males

Pairing: Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Cassian and Azriel make a bet to see who can get Y/N first. But is she already seeing someone?

Word count: 13k oops

Warnings: M/M before you get to readers involvement, smut, 18+, dubious consent if you squint

a/n: It wasn’t meant to be this long but I couldn’t keep the bat boys off each other so…

———————————————————————

You swirl the last of your drink around your glass, enjoying the cool night air flowing through the House of Wind. The door to the balcony lies open where Feyre and Mor just left with a sleeping Nyx. Mor was escorting Feyre and the Prince of the Night Court back to the River House before returning home herself.

You know the High Lord would have escorted his lady himself had Feyre not insisted. “Stay and enjoy more time with your family, you work too hard.”

Now it was only the Ilyrrian brothers left with you in the small sitting area. You watch as Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel grin at each other like children who are up to no good. It warms your heart to see them happy and spending time together after everything you’ve all been through. You decided it’s time you excused yourself for bed and let the boys have their night together. You down the rest of your drink before standing.

“I’m off to bed, keep the volume down you lot.” You give them a smile and turn, making your way down the hall.

Cassian watches Y/N leave. His initial stare is innocent, noting her stride and balance, indicating to him how much she’s had to drink. But as she retreats down the hall he can’t help that his eyes fall to her swaying hips. The dress she’s wearing perfectly hugging her curves and the thought of tearing it of-

“You’re fucking Y/N” Rhysand states and Cassian whips his head round to him. Rhysand’s expression is relaxed as his eyes flick between him and Azriel. As if he had stated something as obvious as ‘the sky was blue’’.

Cassian looks across at Azriel. He was sure the same confused expression was plastered on his own face.

You fucked her? Cassian asks through their shared mating bond.

Of course not. Did you? He questions back.

Cassian doesn’t bother replying, he knows Azriel can feel his confusion and suspicion all the way down the bond.

“What are you talking about?” Cassian turns back to Rhys who was silently watching their exchange.

“In the hundreds of years I’ve known you, both of you, I’ve never seen either of you look at someone like that,” he nods to the hallway you disappeared down “except each other.” He pulls his drink to his lips, hiding a small smirk.

Cassian wills his cheeks not to warm, having been caught out lusting after someone who wasn’t his mate. But Rhysand had said both of them? Had Azriel also been watching you leave with more than just friendly affection in his eyes? He spares a glance to Azriel who is already watching him, head tilted in consideration.

“Well I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but you need to get your eyes checked old man.” Cassian stands and pats Rhysands shoulder as he moves past him to the small bar against the wall. He really needed to be doing something with his hands right now and pouring another drink was the perfect excuse to get out from under the scrutinising eyes of his mate and High Lord.

“My mistake.” He chuckles and quickly moves on to discussing plans for a boys night out.

————————————————————————

Azriel towels off his damp hair in the mirror. It was now well into the early hours of the morning, Rhysand having only just headed home for the night. He probably should have just gone to bed, but he does his best thinking while soaking in warm waters.

He tracks one of his shadows in the mirror as it swirls up his bicep and curls around his ear, whispering to him.

Cassian leaving his room….

Another shadow brushes the back of his neck

...coming to see us.

Azriel always used his shadows as sentinels, guarding the hallway outside his room. As much as he would like to give Cassian his privacy, his shadows seemed to be just as obsessed with the Illyrian warrior as he was. Often reporting his comings and goings without request.

He wraps a towel around his waist and moves into his bedroom looking for something to wear. With trained Illyrian hearing he could now pick up on Cassian’s footfalls down the hall. They’d kept their separate rooms, as no one except Rhysand was aware of their mating bond. Their ability to communicate silently through the bond was a massive advantage in combat, they didn’t want to risk anyone finding out about it and that information spreading across courts. But they couldn’t have really hoped to keep it from Rhysand with how often he was inside their heads.

Azriel senses Cassian open the door and walk in as he’s pulling underwear out of a draw.

“I’m changing asshole” Azriel glares at him over a shoulder.

“What? Have something I haven’t seen before?” Cassian rolls his eyes and throws himself into the armchair in the corner of the room, letting his head fall back in exhaustion.

Azriel takes a moment to appreciate Cassian’s bare torso and follows the cut of his muscles that disappear beneath soft grey pants. He drops his eyes to the floor noticing his shadows already slithering along to the General. Cassian lifts his head and looks him up and down waiting for him to drop his towel. Azriel feels his cheeks warm under the intense gaze. He racks his mind for something to distract Cassian with, that would allow him to change in peace, and remembers Rhysand’s comment about Y/N tonight.

“So, you’ve finally grown bored of me and have moved on to eye fucking our roomate?” Azriel raises an eyebrow at him. That did the trick. Cassian drops his face to the floor where shadows now swirl around his ankles, slowly climbing his covered calves. Azriel quickly drops his towel and pulls on his underwear. He softly closes the drawer with his hip, he wouldn’t need anymore clothing tonight with the heater of an Illyrian that was Cassian sharing his bed.

“Rhysand definitely didn’t think it was just me.” Cassian lifts his eyes back to Azriel, cheeks flushed with the slightest of pink. Azriel makes his way to the edge of the bed before replying.

“So what if I was?” Azriel leans back on his hands, shoulders flexing under his weight. Cassian’s eyebrows shoot up. He stands and strides across the room, shadows still clinging to him, almost at his waist now.

“Are you saying I don’t satisfy you anymore?” Cassian bends over him, leaning large strong hands on Azriel’s thighs. Azriel feels him squeeze ever so slightly.

“Maybe she’d actually be able to follow instructions.” Azriel smirks up at him. Referencing all the times that Cassian has failed to follow his commands. Hands up, no touching until I say. Stay quiet baby, you don’t want the others to hear you. And Azriel’s personal favourite. Don’t finish until I tell you to.

Azriel leans forward, brushing his lips against Cassian’s ear as he whispers “Or maybe I keep imagining her lips wrapped around your dick as I take you from behind.” Azriel watches the shiver that runs down Cassian’s spine. He slides his hand up Cassian’s inner thigh, scattering the shadows there, until he lands on the Illyrians rock hard length.

Cassian suddenly pushes him backwards and Azriel slides further up the bed. He climbs the mattress pushing Azriel’s legs apart as he settles himself between them. His pupils are blown wide and his wings pump once behind him in a show of dominance.

“You think her tongue, her warm pussy, would have you moaning the way you do when you’re fucked out on my cock?” Cassian growls as he shoves down his pants, releasing himself from their restraint. He pumps himself and Azriel can only bite his lip in anticipation as he watches Cassian’s hand make two long strokes.

Azriel bucks his hips up, pinned under Cassian’s hungry gaze. Cassian’s lips raise in a half smirk and he swiftly removes Azriel’s underwear. His eyes never leave Azriel’s as he slowly reaches out to the bottle on the nightstand and lubes his fingers. Azriel knows he’s doing it on purpose, wants him to squirm for a moment before giving him what he wants. He finally leans over Azriel, reaches down and slowly circles his hole. Azriel closes the distance between them, capturing Cassian's bottom lip between his teeth, a silent plea to hurry up.

Cassian pushes inside him with two fingers, pumping quickly, already spreading him open. Azriel drops his head back into the pillow with a moan. Cassian knows he likes to take his pleasure with a side of pain, so wouldn’t take too much care in opening him up. Azriel shifts his legs up a little giving Cassian better access.

“That smart mouth of yours has nothing left to say?” Cassian murmurs against his skin as he kisses down his exposed neck. Azriel only lets out a soft moan in response.

It’s only a couple of more strokes with skilled fingers before Cassian’s lining his head up with Azriel’s ass. He enters him in one swift motion that has Azriel arching off the bed. Cassian sets an unrelenting pace that has him seeing white behind his eyes. A calloused hand wraps around Azriel’s length and gives him swift pumps that match the deep strokes inside him.

Azriel can barely think straight with Cassian consuming every nerve. Cassian shifts back on his knees a little, dragging Azriel with him.

“You think Y/N could read your body like this?” Cassian continues his unwavering thrusts as his grip on Azriel’s cock tightens. Azriel feels it then. Feels soft gliding strokes across the inner part of his right wing and he can’t stop the whine that escapes him.

Cassian, the cocky bastard, chuckles above him. Azriel reels in the last of his focus to retort.

“I wouldn’t need her to, she’d be riding my face right now.” Cassian’s dick twitches inside him at the comment and the Illyrian above him lets out a low possessive growl. He pulls out of Azriel and quickly flips him on his front, lifts his hips and thrusts back into him hard. Cassian bends over him trapping his wrists to the bed.

“Now you get to cum untouched.” Cassian sneers at him.

Azriel has lost the power of speech, the new deeper angle has him coming undone. Every stroke has Cassian dragging over that sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. Azriel isn’t concerned how his comments might land with Cassian. Every time he mentions Y/N he can feel Cassian’s lust flaring through the bond.

A few more snaps of Cassian’s hips have them both exploding, Azriel moaning into his pillow before they both collapse in a pile of sweaty limbs.

“Now I’m going to need another bath.” Azriel huffs, rolling onto his side facing Cassian.

“Sucks to be you” Cassian smirks and Azriel punches his bicep before leaning in and kissing him gently.

————————————————————————

Cassian pulls back and speaks into Azriel’s mind, too exhausted for more words.

It’s weird isn’t it, that we both started… noticing Y/N at the same time?

Just noticing? Azriel chuckles. Is that all it is, is it?

You know what I mean. Cassian physically rolls his eyes at him.

It is a little strange. Azriel admits as he rolls on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Too bad for you she would pick me over you.

As if! Cassian gives his arm a shove with his elbow.

Want to bet? Loser has to go down on the winner for a month straight. Azriel turns his head back to Cassian, eyebrows raised in challenge. Cassian quickly glances down between the Shadowsingers legs. He quickly debates how much damage Azriel’s considerable length could do in that amount of time.

Make it two weeks and you’re on. Cassian narrows his eyes. Are we talking, taking her to bed? He lets his features fall then and lets his wariness flow through the bond. He’s unsure how’d he feel taking someone to bed without his mate.

Let’s just go with getting her to agree on a date. Azriel reaches up and strokes the back of his fingers down Cassian’s stubbled jawline. Pure love vibrates through him from the threads that lay between them.

You’re on. Cassian leans forward and seals the bet with a quick kiss.

———————————————————————

A week passes and Cassian can’t stop thinking about the bet they made. He didn’t want to act too soon, didn’t want Azriel to think him too eager in going after Y/N. But who was he kidding? He found himself back in that sitting room, weekly drinks in full swing, watching Y/N bite her lip, holding in a laugh to the story Amren was telling her about the boys.

You’re drooling. Azriel teases down the bond. Cassian forces his eyes away from her and to the drink in his lap.

I am not. He scoffs. He looks up at Azriel sitting across from him, mischievously staring at him with knowing eyes. A bead of condensation runs down Azriel’s glass and he watches as Az strokes a long finger up the side wiping it away. God those fingers. He can almost feel how’d they brush his skin, how they’d pull at his hair and dig into his hips. How Cassian would take Azriel’s finger into his mouth, running his tongu-

Unless you want me to show you what these fingers can do to you right here, in front of everyone, I suggest you stop. Azriel’s eye’s darken as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Who’s drooling now? Cassian smirks at him.

Y/N’s laughter brings him back to the room. The others are almost doubled over at the story Amren just finished. Rhys starts topping up glasses with the bottle of wine in his hand, but Y/N holds up a hand when he reaches her.

“I think I need some water and maybe a snack.” She explains as she stands and heads through the door and down the hall to the kitchen.

So you haven’t talked to Y/N yet. Worried she’s going to say no to you? Azriel has obviously recovered from the images Cassian had thrown down the bond moments ago.

You haven’t either. Cassian quips back.

Oh no, I’m happy for you to go first. I want to give you a fighting chance. Azriel teases. Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, puts down his glass and makes his way to the door.

As he’s leaving he feels a mix of amusement and curiosity flow through the bond between them. Followed by a small tug of jealousy. Cassian smirks to himself, Azriel should be jealous, he was about to lay the charm on so thick, no fae would say no to him. But as he reaches the hallway he turns and winks.

Fuck me later asshole. And watches as Azriel visibly relaxes at his words.

————————————————————————

You slice the block of cheese in front of you, carefully avoiding your fingers. You can’t imagine the ribbing you’d get from the boys if you turned up to training tomorrow with a bandaged hand from slicing cheese.

Your vision wobbles ever so slightly and you decide it’s probably best not to push your drunken state and carefully put the knife down. You slide a couple of pieces of bread and cheese onto a plate and turn to go back to the sitting room when you find an Illyrian in the way.

“Want some bread and cheese?” You offer out the plate to Cassian.

“Sure.” He smiles broadly. He enters the kitchen completely, pulling his wings in tight through the doorway. He takes one look at the few pieces on the plate and scoops every last one into his hands.

“Cass!” You smack his shoulder lightly as he turns away chuckling, throwing pieces into his mouth.

“Sit, I’ll get you some more. Wouldn’t want you to slice a finger off with that cutting technique.” He gives you a wink as you take a seat at one of the stools pulled up to the high table in the centre of the kitchen. How long had he been standing there watching you struggle?

You take a moment to focus on Cassian at work. Broad shoulders and muscled biceps were on display tonight through a tight black t-shirt. Muscles under the tan skin of his forearms ripple as he makes light work of preparing your midnight snack. Your eyes start tracing the swirls of Illyrian tattoos that cover his arms, you’ve seen him shirtless more times than you could count, so you know where they swirl across his chest. But beyond that, where those lines lead you could only imagine… No you shouldn’t be imagining. You catch yourself having leant forward on the table following the imagined lines and play it off as intense interest in his slicing technique.

You can not be having those kinds of thoughts about one of your best friends. Someone you lived in the same house as and someone who was fucking one of your other best friends. Of course they don’t know you know that. You don’t even know how you’d begin that conversation.

Hey Az, hey Cass. I was heading back from the library late one night when one of your shadows caught my eye. It seemed to be beckoning me and I thought something might be wrong so I followed it. Turns out, when I approached the sound of your hushed voices, they became moans and I thought you guys were either going at it or one you had finally decided to stab the other..

Okay stabbing was not the imagery you needed right now. Regardless, that was months ago and ever since you’ve been picking up more and more on the looks the two Illyrians share throughout a regular day. Something was definitely going on between the two of them and you weren’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Cassian pulls over the empty plate you discarded on the table between you. He piles on pieces of cheese and bread, but instead of pushing it back towards you he picks it up and walks around the table. He stops right beside you and you turn to face him.

He places the plate down beside you and leans on his elbow against the table.

“Sorry I stole your snack.” He pouts jokingly at you.

“Apology accepted.” You say as you pluck a piece off the plate. “Would you like some more?” You offer him after downing two more pieces and picking up a third.

“I’d love some.” He leans forward slightly and opens his mouth for you. His playfulness catches you off guard but you quickly recover and reach out to hold a piece of bread and cheese to his mouth.

He takes them from your fingers and before you can pull away, he catches your thumb as well. Without breaking eye contact his teeth gently graze the pad of your thumb. You freeze a little and let out a small gasp that you hope he doesn’t notice. He smirks and leans back.

“An interesting snack of choice.” He nods down at the plate, a smile still playing in his eyes.

“Uh.” You stumble a little bit, trying to recover from whatever the Hel that was. “It was just what was lying around.”

“The best midnight snack is the one that takes no effort.” He pushes off the table and heads to the next room that holds an ice chest for the cold foods. It gives you a minute to clear your head, you turn back to the plate to determine what exactly just happened when movement catches in the corner of your eye. You turn just in time to see two of Azriel’s shadows cross paths in the darkness of the doorway.

What kind of game do these two think they’re playing? Well if that’s how it’s going to be, then game on.

Cassian returns to the kitchen, a bowl of strawberries in one arm and a smaller bowl of fresh cream in the other. He was about to make this way too easy for you.

He returns to stand next to you, placing the bowels on the table pushing the plate of bread and cheese out of the way. He picks up a strawberry, dips it into the cream and brings it up to his lips.

“See, so easy and I could eat this whole bowel in one sitting.” He places almost the whole strawberry into his mouth and bites it off before the stem.

You follow his lead and bite through a cream dipped strawberry. It really was delicious, you might even make this a new favourite. You both sit in silence for a few minutes, taking turns dipping and eating strawberries.

Azriel once taught you that sometimes all you had to do to get someone to talk was to sit quietly and wait for them to fill the silence. As if on queue…

“So I was thinking.” Cassian picks up a strawberry and rolls it between his fingers. “How about you go to dinner with me and I can show you some of my other favourite food combinations?” He glances up at you. So he wants to take you out to dinner? You might be playing the game now but you still weren’t sure what the end goal was. Had they caught you staring a little too long at Azriel’s chiselled torso during training? Maybe their aim was your total and utter humiliation to teach you a lesson about coveting something that wasn’t yours?

“Oh, uh.” You fake a little flustering. Okay so maybe you didn’t need to fake being flustered when an Illyrian, that literally looked like a winged god, was asking you on a date.

“I’m flattered but I’ve actually been seeing someone recently.” You let the lie roll off your tongue and pretend to be extremely occupied selecting the perfect strawberry.

“Really?” Cassian straightens and you don’t miss the way his wings puff up a little. “Why haven’t you introduced him to everyone?”

You shrug and pick up one of the largest strawberries, coating it in a thick layer of cream.

“Oh you know, it’s not that serious yet. Just a bit of fun.” You bring the strawberry to your mouth and the cream is already beginning to run onto your fingers.

You stick out your tongue and run a long stripe through the cream. You feel Cassian stiffen next to you. Just as you suspected, way too easy. You quickly finish off your strawberry, leaving you with two fingers covered in cream. You suck them into your mouth and turn to Cassian with wide innocent eyes as you pull them out past your lips.

“Thanks for the midnight snack Cass.” You smile and hop off the stool and leave him staring after you in the middle of the kitchen.

————————————————————————

Another shadow slips through the cracked door. It slides its way along to join the others currently swirling around Azriel, slumped in an armchair in the corner of the room. With no candles lit in Cassian’s bedroom, he may as well be invisible.

The newly returned shadow slides around his neck.

Gone, Cassian alone.

Seconds later Cassian pushes open the door and then clicks it shut. He strides across the room, pieces of his hair coming loose of their bindings as he braces his hands on the desk, leaning over the mess of paperwork.

“Didn’t go as you planned then huh?” Azriel speaks up from his shadowy hiding place.

Cassian’s shoulders stiffen in surprise but quickly relax as he turns.

“How many times have I told you not to do that?” Cassian leans back against the desk folding his arms across his chest.

Azriel commands all of the shadows to disperse.

“Just because you got rejected doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.” Azriel smirks at him. Enjoying for a moment that Cassian finally found someone who would say no to him.

“Please, she didn’t reject me, she’s seeing someone.” Cassian rolls his eyes. And fuck the way Azriel wants to bend him over and spank his ass red raw for doing so.

A shadow glides over Azriels shoulder.

Never seen her with a male.

“Do you think she really is seeing someone though? I’ve never seen or scented another male around her.” Azriel crosses his ankles out in front him, chin resting on intertwined hands.

“I don’t know. Maybe she wants to keep it quiet. But one thing I do know, she wanted to say yes. You should have smelt her Az.” Cassian grins widely. Flashes of strawberries, cream and Y/N’s tongue filter through their bond.

Azriel is left stunned for a moment at the images he’s being fed. Cassian pushes off the desk and sits opposite Azriel on the end of the bed.

“Well maybe she was holding out for another Illyrian.” Azriel teases him. “I hope you’re ready to deliver on that bet.”

Cassian scowles and then another memory is bursting through the bond. Cassian has Y/N’s thumb in his mouth, grazing his teeth along it before flicking it with his tongue. Her eyes are blown wide and her breaths are short and uneven.

Azriel growls then, pushes from his seat and is standing in front Cassian in two long strides.

“If you wanted to put something in your mouth baby, you should have just said so.” Azriel towers over him. He watches as Cassian runs his tongue along his bottom lip, Azriel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, probably weighing up the risks of continuing to be a brat.

Azriel reaches out and grabs his chin firmly before he has time to decide.

“Be good, and open for me.” Azriel murmurs softly.

Cassian drops his mouth open into Azriel’s hand. Azriel strokes along his jaw with his thumb. His other hand reaches into his pants freeing himself.

He rests the head of his cock on Cassian’s awaiting tongue. The warmth of Cassian’s mouth immediately shoots through him and he can’t help the small groan he lets out.

Cassian sits with his jaw slack, looking up at Azriel with round innocent eyes.

“Please, don’t act like you don’t know what to do with it.” Azriel scoffs. “Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” Azriel releases Cassian’s jaw and slides his hand to the top of Cassian’s neck.

Cassian’s lips wrap around him then, a calloused hand gripping along his base. Azriel moans as his tongue laps at the precum beading at his head. For a moment he loses himself to the warmth of Cassian’s mouth, letting his head fall back. His focus narrows in on the tightness of Cassian’s grip, on the way his tongue rolls around him.

“Think you can take all of me tonight baby?” He flicks his eyes down to Cassian's head, bobbing up and down his length. The only response he gets is a muffled groan that sends vibrations through his dick, Azriel bites his lip to stifle his moan.

He leans forward entering Cassian’s throat, slowly at first allowing him to adjust and pull back if he needs. But Cassian relaxes and takes every inch that Azriel gives him without complaint. Azriel moves a hand to the front of Cassian's throat, feeling the bulge of himself sliding deeper. He could come undone right then and there but he knows he has a task to do tonight. Knows he needs to smooth over the bruises to Cassian's oversized ego after your earlier rejection.

“Look at you Cass, no one else could take me like this.” Azriel murmurs. A tear breaks the corner of Cassian’s eye at the strain of taking his length. Azriel swipes out a thumb, smoothing it over. He starts rocking back and forth down Cassian’s throat.

“Keep those eyes on me, want to see how beautiful you are.” Cassian eyes flick up to Azriel through damp lashes. “Fuck you were made for me baby. Your body is perfect, your mouth, those hands, that ass are all for me.” He growls. In response Cassian tightens his throat around Azriel and that has him coming undone with a moan. He shoots white strands down Cassian’s throat and coats the inside of his mouth. Cassian laps at Azriel’s over sensitive head, cleaning every inch as he slowly pulls out.

Azriel leans down and kisses him deeply. He can taste himself on Cassian’s lips. He drops to his knees between Cassian’s legs and finally releases Cassian’s dick. He gives it a few quick pumps to relieve him of the building tension.

“Fuck, Az!” Cassian’s moan is scratchy, his voice wired out after having Azriel down his throat. And damn does that have Azriel’s dick throbbing again.

“Lay back, let me take care of you.” Azriel pushes gently on Cassian’s abs, but he needs no encouragement to fall back onto the sheets.

Azriel leans forward and runs his tongue from base to tip. He quickly works Cassian to the edge, he knows every nerve, has them mapped out in his mind and traces them with ease. When Cassian is bucking up into him, forcing him to relax his throat, to focus his breathing, he reaches up and strokes that place on the inside of Cassian’s warm leathery wings.

“Azriel!” Cassian cums through clenched teeth. Azriel is sure to suck him dry, before stuffing him back into his pants.

He rises and leans over Cassian, wings splayed.

“Now let’s see what that pretty mouth craves.” Azriel smirks. Cassian closes his hazel eyes, focusing. Racing down the bond, Azriel catches a montage of all the times Cassian has knelt before him. His own cock down Cassian’s throat or in his hands and Azriel’s heart pounds at how beautiful Cassian makes him look in his memories. Azriel crashes his lips into Cassian's, breaking the flow of images. He sends his own thoughts down the bond.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Cassian’s response is singular.

Mine.

————————————————————————

Two weeks later you're in the training ring with your favourite Illyrians. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little extra swagger to your step these last weeks. You’d beat the boys at whatever game they had tried to play with you. Hadn’t let yourself be caught out by your little fantasies that they may have started suspecting. It gave your ego a much needed boost.

You refocused on the Shadowsinger just in time to block the blade that came swinging down at you.

“You’re distracted.” Azriel says straightening. “Do you need me to ask Cass to leave?”

You both look over to Cassian’s slumped form against the far wall. He was sitting shirtless, legs stretched out in front him. You’d all stripped down layers during the heat of training, it left the Illyrians shirtless and you down to a sweat soaked singlet. Your eyes followed sweat beads rolling over heaving muscles as he caught his breath.

“Please the only thing he could distract me with is his overinflated ego taking up too much space.” You wave your hand around gesturing to the air.

“Ha ha you’re both very funny.” Cassian says dryly. He picks up the towel next to him, pushes off the ground and walks out of the room without another word.

If you were being honest it wasn’t the general who was distracting you today but rather the Illyrian right in front of you. If Cassian relied on glowing looks and charm to win him affection then Azriel relied on broody arrogance and touch. From the moment he walked in this morning he’d been upon you. Small brushes of a calloused hand correcting your grip, taps to your side to widen your stance, a hand held out and gripped just a little too long as he helped you stand from a fall.

You returned to your combat. Making quick slashes forcing Azriel onto his back foot. But he was far more skilled than you were and you weren't stupid enough to think you’d won the upper hand. You narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for him to make his move when you felt the cool whisper against your skin. A dark shadow curls around your neck and slides along your collarbone. It’s quickly joined by another sliding around your ear. You don’t flinch. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you react. You respond with a thrust of your sword which he easily dodges with a small pivot. Before you have a chance to retract your arm a shadow curls around your wrist and squeezes.

Your breath stutters and then your cheeks flush, because you know how closely he monitors an opponent's breathing. Suddenly his leg swings out and catches the back of your knee. You drop your blade as you fall backwards trying to regain your footing but a muscular arm catches you before you hit the ground.

Azriel holds you up a foot from the ground like it’s nothing, grinning at you. And suddenly you realise maybe the game wasn’t over after all. Maybe Azriel, the cunning spymaster he is, was just lying in wait for the right opportunity to mess with you all this time.

“Cheater” you glare up at him.

“You should expect an opponent to use every tool in their arsenal” He chuckles softly.

He stands up, rightening you both but keeps an arm wrapped around you, a hand resting at the small of your back.

“I guess you need to resort to that if you’re worried you’ve lost your touch and were about to lose to little old me.” You grin wickedly, folding your arms across your chest.

You catch darkness flash across his features and then you see nothing at all as a shadow wraps itself over your eyes.

You drop your arms to your side, your body automatically preparing for a fight that isn't coming. You never feared Azriel, only left awed at what he was capable of. You feel a brush of air and then the fan of his breath on your neck as he leans in from behind you.

“Wait until you have to fight me blind sweetheart, no one’s ever walked away from that.” He whispers softly.

You work to calm your stuttering heart, with your vision gone you’re forced to focus on the sound of his voice and the movement of his body with a new found intensity.

“Even Cass?” You question, hoping to distract him from your compromised position.

“Ha, I guess Cass has come close.” He chuckles and allows the shadow to fall away from your face. He steps around in front of you again.

“Only Rhys has ever bested me in a fight of total darkness, but who would expect anything less from the High Lord of the Night Court.” He shrugs in acceptance.

“Well how about a heads up next time you bring shadows to a sword fight?” You bend down, scoop up your fallen sword and start to make your way to the weapons rack.

“Let me make it up to you, have drinks with me tonight?” He follows closely behind you.

“Like a date?” You ask. This was starting to drive you mad. Were they really so cruel as to torture you just for having a little crush. What you wouldn’t give to have either Illyrian be genuinely interested in you. Azriel had to be asking you out. If it was any other day it would just be a casual; Drinks tonight, you in? not the mystery riddled Have drinks with me tonight? in that low sultry tone of his.

“Why not?” He asks. You can feel him standing right behind you as you secure the training sword on the rack.

“I’m actually seeing someone, but thanks.” You parroted what you said to Cassian a couple of weeks ago. But it doesn’t have the same gusto, instead you can hear your own voice laced with defeat.

“Really? Because I don’t think you are. I think you’re lying.” He teases. Your back stiffens, you can sense that he’s still only a step behind you. Did he, did they, really think that no one could be genuinely interested in you? Of course he wasn’t wrong. It had been an age since your last real date but you hadn’t really made yourself available. Preferring to throw all your energy into your work, your training and your family.

You decided then you were going to do something that would probably be considered dangerous. But it was time you got back at Azriel for all the touches; from him, from his shadows, during training. You quickly turn around to face him before you lose your nerve.

“Sorry to burst your bubble then, obviously you're not the great spymaster you think you are.” You give him a smile and go to leave the training ring. As you step around him though, you intentionally don’t leave enough space, forcing your bare shoulder to brush against the warm leathery surface of his wing.

He growls, a low feral sound that rolls from deep in his chest and for a second you think you might not actually make it back into the house alive. You don’t stop walking though and you don’t look back as you head inside.

————————————————————————

The bedroom door slams back against the wall with a crack and Cassian freezes with a spoon halfway to his mouth.

“She should be fucking dead.” Azriel snarls as he strides into the room. Cassian wondered how it was going up in the training ring, had waited in Azriel’s room to find out and by the looks of the spymaster, not very well.

“Did she insult your shadows?” Cassian smirks, placing his bowl down and standing from the armchair. It wasn’t often that something or someone got Azriel this worked up. Cassian couldn’t wait to hear exactly what Y/N had said.

Azriel glares at him and then suddenly Y/N’s face is flashing down the bond. Cassian sees through Azriel’s memory how she secured her sword to the rack, turned and insulted Azriel’s skills as a Spymaster. Cassian chuckles, he’s going soft if he’s getting that worked up over that little comment. But then she brushes past him and he feels it like he’s actually there in the moment, she…

“Your wing?” Cassian stands gaping at him. Even though Y/N wasn’t Illyrian herself she knew how they were affected by their wings. She knew that outside of healing, and training to fly as a youngling, nobody touched an Illyrian’s wings except their most intimate partners.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Well she’s not afraid to break the rules is she.”

“I almost broke something.” Azriel grumbled.

“I’m surprised you didn’t retaliate, you could have had her pinned, cowering on the floor in two seconds.” Cassian shrugged.

“Slight problem.” Azriel grimaces and motions to his hips. Cassian can now make out the bulge straining Azriel’s leathers. He doesn’t let Cassian respond as he storms for the bathroom. “Shower. Now.”

Cassian follows him into the bathroom and leans against the door, watching Azriel’s back as he practically tears his clothes off.

“You better be undressed by the time I turn around.” He says over his shoulder. Cassian rolls his eyes but starts striping down. Y/N really managed to get him in a mood.

“Roll your eyes again and see what happens.” Azriel growls and then steps into the shower, steam already filling the small room.

Azriel likes to be in control. And as much as Cassian likes to push his buttons, to force him to let go sometimes, he can’t help the small thrill that runs through him at the thought of his mate in his most dominant state.

He steps into the shower and Azriel has him pinned to the wall in an instant. Azriel’s mouth is on his, then on his throat sucking and nibbling and then he drops to Cassian’s chest swirling his tongue around his nipple. Cassian lets out a soft moan and drops his head back against the wall. His hips make an unintentional thrust, silently begging for Azriel's mouth elsewhere.

Azriel straightens, sliding a hand up Cassian's chest and wrapping it around his throat.

You’ll be good for me, won’t you Cas? Azriel’s dark voice whispers through Cassian's mind. One hand still wrapped around his neck the other trails down the broad muscles of his abs and grips his cock.

You’ll let me take you. Let me fill you and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow?

For a second Cassian considers a snarky response but he sees the shadows swirling in Azriel’s eyes. He knows what Azriel wants from him. Not to be Cassian the battle worn warrior or Cassian the Illyrian General, but the Cassian who would drop to his knees and do anything for him. The Cassian that exists only for the Shadowsinger.

Yours Az. Cassian practically whimpers back. Always need you. Please.

Fuck Azriel’s barely touched him and he can hardly string a proper sentence together.

Good baby. Azriel practically purrs in his mind and then steps away from him. Instantly Cassian wants to reach for him, to feel Azriel’s body against his, but he resists.

Turn around, hands on the wall. Azriel commands him.

Cassian obeys. Placing both hands to the cool wall as warm water rushes down half his body.

He only just settles his stance when Azriel suddenly enters him with two fingers causing him to cry out in pleasure. He’s not given time to adjust as Azriel begins moving, stretching him.

That’s it, let me hear how much you like it baby.

Cassian bites his bottom lip attempting to stifle his moans. Azriel removes his fingers and Cassian whines at the loss of contact and starts to turn to face him.

I said hands on the wall. Azriel's sharp voice winds through his mind.

Cassian obeys, forcing his palms firmly into the wall and gritting his teeth. When it came to intimacy Azriel couldn’t be more different to Cassian. He was all about the pleasure of delayed gratification but Cassian wanted everything yesterday. He hears Azriel shifting behind him, he leans his forehead on the wall for balance as he drops a hand between his legs.

Hands. On. The. Wall. Azriel’s voice growls and Cassian quickly returns his hand.

Suddenly Azriel enters him in one swift motion, forcing Cassian’s hips to buck forward. He groans at the intrusion and tears prick at the corner of his eyes as Azriel begins quick thrusts.

Look at you. The Great Illyrian General becomes a whimpering mess when he’s getting fucked on my cock.

The instant fullness is almost too much, he feels his feet slip along the floor. But he’s surprised to find that Azriel isn’t there with a steadying hand. Now that he thinks of it, the only point of contact is Azriel’s length sliding in and out of him. He needs more, he always needs more.

“Oh god, please” Cassian moans “Please touch me, let me move.”

“It’s not the gods you should be begging to.” Azriel growls.

“Please Az…” Cassian begs. Azriel hasn’t paused his quick thrusts once and Cassian can barely string a sentence together. A dark chuckle enters Cassian's mind.

Oh no, what was it you said? “Now you get to cum untouched”. Memories from weeks ago flood his vision when he had Azriel flipped over on the bed. He should have known the bastard would take his revenge for that sooner or later.

When Azriel thrusts forward again he brings his body with him, forcing Cassian flat to the wall, trapping his wrists with his own hands. Cassian’s cock is aching for attention and being pressed between the wall and his body is enough to have him on the edge.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Azriel whispers into his ear and Cassian’s vision goes white with pleasure as he releases his load onto himself. Azriel is right behind him as Cassian’s ass squeezes him to his release. There’s a moment when the only sound is their heavy panting and then Azriel grips Cassian's shoulders and spins him around. Suddenly Azriel’s lips are on his.

So good baby, always so good for me. Azriel’s voice purrs in his mind.

For you Az. He replies. Too exhausted to open his eyes just yet. He feels a cloth being dragged along his front, cleaning him.

You’re okay? I didn’t hurt you? Concern and fear floods down the bond from Azriel. Even as one of their tamer love making sessions, Azriel is always worried he’s pushed too hard, taken things too far.

Give me some credit Az. He flicks his eyes open and meets the intense gaze of the shadowsinger. You know I’ll take whatever you give me. He lifts a hand to brush along the Illyrians' chin. And I’m more than okay.

————————————————————————

The next day Azriel has laid out his knife collection on the dining room table for polishing. You hate when he polishes weapons where they eat. He doesn’t want you to know how worked up he got about the wing incident yesterday and this is a perfectly indirect way of getting back at you. Of course Cassian is sitting at the end, swinging in his chair with his feet on the table, not wanting to miss a second of the inbound confrontation.

Azriel doesn’t need his shadows to alert him to your footfalls in the hall as you approach.

You let out a small huff and he smirks softly before raising his face to meet you.

“Good morning Y/N” Azriel greets you cheerily.

“Why are you polishing on the table again, Spymaster?” Your eyes narrow at him.

The use of his formal title spurs something inside of him. His retort is on the tip of his tongue when Mor waltzes in.

“Morning!” She announces to the room but strides to your side. “You ready to go?” She holds out a bent arm to you.

“Where are you going?” Azriel tilts his head slightly, caught off guard in his lack of knowledge. There was no indication until now that you had any plans today.

“You didn’t tell them?” Mor looks to you in surprise.

“It’s none of their business.” You smile softly at Mor but hope she catches the wicked glint in your eye that begs her to play along. Thankfully she doesn’t elaborate any further about today's plans.

“Well Windhaven awaits.” She offers you her arm once again and you take it. You both hurry from the room but not before you hear Azriel's quiet questioning,

“Windhaven?”

And the snap of Cassian’s chair returning to the ground.

“Why didn’t you tell them about visiting the female Illyrians?” Mor whispers as you descend the stairs of the House of Wind far enough to pass the wards that restrict winnowing.

“You know they’ll assume the worst, probably worse than the worst.” She giggles at the realisation.

“Good.” You exhale. “They’ve been getting on my last nerve, they deserve it.” You join in with her soft giggles before darkness consumes you both.

“Why is she going to Windhaven?” Azriel turns on Cassian.

“I don’t know you’re the Spymaster, you tell me.” He snaps back.

“I’ve not heard anything. Rhys hasn’t mentioned anything, surely he would send one of us if anything was required there.” Azriel stands and paces along the room.

“Then maybe she wasn’t sent.” Cassian slumps back in his chair and stares absently at the ground. Azriel freezes and spins on his heel.

“If she wasn’t sent, why would she go?” He slams scarred hands down on the dining table.

Cassian flicks his eyes up to Azriel, a look of defeat flashes across his face.

“She did say she was seeing someone.” Cassian murmurs and the room becomes frighteningly still.

“There’s absolutely no way she is seeing a fucking Illyrian.” Azriel stands to his full height, wings shooting wide as he stabs a finger at the doorway you had disappeared through.

Cassian stands and gestures down at himself. “Az, we’re Illyrians.”

“You know what I fucking mean Cass” He strides forward and grasps the war lords shoulders “These are our Windhaven Illyrians, theres no civilised courting, there’s barely civilised conversation. Whoever it is, is going to tear her apart.” He moves his right hand to rest on Cassian’s cheek, letting the panic show on his face and flow through the bond. They’re going to tear our Y/N apart.

Cassian's eyes widen in realisation and fear now flows freely from both ends of the bond. There’s no conversation then, just the scuff of knives being sheathed as they prepare to leave for Windhaven.

————————————————————————

You appear in the middle of the Illyrian war camp and immediately bundle your cloak closer. The wind and snow were so harsh here you don’t know how the Illyrians could stand it. Squinting against the wind you can make out the small cottage that was your refuge just down the path. You give Mor a small nod of thanks and hurry on your way.

Your task today was to try and convince more female Illyrians to step into the training ring. To convince them that even if their wings had been clipped, and they could no longer fly in the legions, it was still worth knowing how to defend themselves. Many of them across the camps were still concerned about backlash even though their High Lord had been personally seeing to anyone who went against his rulings.

You almost reach the corner of the building when you hear the jeers.

————————————————————————

Azriel winnows them onto a small rooftop of one of the dozen semi permanent buildings in Windhaven. They immediately spot Y/N hurrying down the road. They were only a few moments behind her and Mor, as they had the advantage of quickly flying through the ward barriers of the House of Wind before winnowing.

They duck low to remain out of sight and watch as Y/N almost makes it to the small cottage on the outskirts of the camp before the jeers ring out. A group of four Illyrians jostle each other as they make their way over to where she has halted.

Cassian clutches at the metal roof causing it to groan as a low growl rips from his throat.

“If they touch her I’ll carve their hearts out of their chests myself.” He snarls.

Azriel firmly grasps the back of Cassian’s leathers to stop him from taking off.

“Calm yourself, they might be who she is here to see.” Azriel hates that he has to admit it. But now that he is here, has eyes on her, he’s in his element. Lying in the shadows, watching, waiting, that was his forte. Unfortunately Cassian was more act first, ask questions later.

Y/N stands stiffly as laughs ring out from the group. She looks comfortable enough. Her arms relaxed at her side, a soft smile on her lips. But in a moment everything shifts. The male at the front of the group reaches for her and she twists, drawing a blade in the same moment.

Azriel releases his grip on Cassian and launches for the group drawing weapons at the end of the road. He doesn’t know if Cassian has even left the rooftop yet as his fist collides with a stubbled face.

————————————————————————

You twist around, shove a small blade into the side of the Illyrian who lunged at you and stomp a heel into the back of his knee, causing him to fall forward. You catch the blur of another pair of black wings and your heart freezes for a moment. Four young, barely trained Illyrians you had a chance against, but another larger Illyrian joining the fray slashed your chances drastically. You almost fall to your knees when the glint of blue sirens catches the sun. Azriel was here, you don’t know how, but he was here. Suddenly the Illyrian at your feet is ripped from the ground and tossed down the path. Cassian stands in his place.

He reaches tentatively to your face as his eyes scan you widely.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He growls. You blink at him in surprise before replying.

“No, I’m fine.” You confess as Azriel expertly takes down the Illyrians that have turned on him. Cassian’s red siren’s are flaring, his chest heaving in deep breaths and you recognise the panic in his eyes. The panic for you.

“Cassian. I’m okay. You’re here with me.” You reassure him. He begins to relax and gives you a short nod.

“CASS!” Azriel bellows as the last of the group charges directly towards you. Cassian shoves you back and takes the brunt of the hit. Sending both Illyrians crashing through the wall of the cabin.

Suddenly a loud crack rings out across the camp and you swear time slows ever so slightly as Rhysand steps out of the darkness. His deep violet eyes hold none of their usual sparkle. He takes only a moment to assess the situation and strides towards you. He gently takes up your hand like he’s done many times before and nods once to Azriel as darkness consumes your vision.

You land softly on the plush carpet of Rhysand’s study. Seconds later Azriel appears with Cassian.

“Care to explain why I’m about to pay for repairs in Windhaven?” The cool stare of the Night Court’s High Lord falls upon his Illyrian brothers.

Azriel’s wings flare in challenge but you step forward before he can get out his first word.

“Actually, that might be my fault. I got into a little… altercation with some of the Illyrian trainees.” You play down how dangerous the situation really could have become.

“Little?” Cassian questioned. “It was four against one, you were lucky we were there!”

“I had it under control!” You ball your hands into fists at your side. “And why were you even there?”

But it’s Rhysand who replies first. “You went alone?”

You lock eyes with him for a moment, before turning away. You didn’t feel like trying to explain how hurt you had been by Azriel and Cassian’s games lately, that you had just wanted to get a little space. It felt like they were laughing at your poor love life at every turn and just for a moment you wanted them to assume you may have had a suitor. Even in a place like Windhaven.

“You sent her?” Cassian takes a half step forward.

Rhysand’s eyes flick quickly between the three of you. “I need to get back, make an example of these trainees to assure this doesn’t happen again and repair yet another building.” His gaze settles on Cassian. “You three stay here until you figure this out.” He’s gone by the time you turn around.

————————————————————————

“What were you doing in Windhaven?” Azriel folds his arms across his broad chest and leans against the wall.

“Why were you tailing me?” You answer with a question of your own.

“We thought…” Cassian shifts his weight uneasily “We thought you might be meeting with someone who wasn’t… safe for you.”

“Safe for me?” You could feel your blood begin to boil. First the games, now they want to directly meddle in your love life too?

“They’re Illyrians Y/N! They don’t care about you! You're seriously delusional if you think anyone in that camp is worth your time!” Cassian furiously points back towards the mountains outside the study window.

“Right because Illyrian brutes are only good for fighting and fucking!” You throw back at him. Azriel narrows his eyes understanding the insult that was just thrown at them.

“That camp is full of dangerous males! They’d love nothing more than to discard of you when they’re done! If you’re seeing one of them, it's over.” Cassian growls and you see red.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see!” You storm towards him and jab a finger into his chest.

“So you are seeing one of them!” He steps back and throws his arms up. You turn on your heel, heading for the door ready to be done with this conversation for good.

“What does it concern you if I see an Illyrian?” You snarl as you head back towards the door.

“Because it’s not us!” Cassian chokes out and the room immediately stills.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cassian’s thoughts rush down the bond. The fear of his confession mingled with the fear that he’s messed things up with Azriel. That he’ll lose two of the most important people in his life in one fell swoop.

Never. Relax. Azriel tries to soothe him but his heart is also racing out of his chest. Cassian’s confession may as well have been his own. The reason he couldn’t stand to think of Y/N with an Illyrian, or any male for that matter, was because it wasn’t him.

“I’m done with these games.” Tears threaten to prick your eyes but you fight them back. Your heart feels like it’s shattering. You glance over your shoulder, afraid that tears will begin to fall if you turn to face them completely.

“Just because the two of you are happy together,” You see the surprise ripple through them “Doesn’t mean you get to mess with me for fun.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble but you lift your chin in defiance.

“I’m packing my stuff. I’m going to go stay with Mor for a bit, just… leave me alone.” You sign and reach for the door handle.

————————————————————————

As you begin to pull the door open Azriel can feel his heart crack and splinter. The pain and sadness that they have caused you struggles to consume his chest and he doesn’t fight it. He lets it wash over him.

“No.” he gasps, squeezing his eyes closed against the sharp pain that rips through him. As he blinks them open he notices Cassian has stumbled to Rhysands desk doubled over in pain. But when he looks across at you standing in the doorway he sees it. A golden thread splits away from you, towards them both. Glowing just as bright as the one that connects him to the Illyrian warrior.

You stand frozen and wide eyed across from him.

Y/N Azriel takes a tentative step forward, testing the connection down the bond. Cassian straightens but remains silent.

I don’t understand. You blink back and forth between them. You two are…

We are. We have been mates for centuries. Azriel explains as he moves closer.

We can’t lose her Az. I can’t… Cassian’s voice waivers in the back of his mind.

I know. Azriel agrees. You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to unravel this mess, unaware of their private conversation.

Sweetheart, we never meant to hurt you. We were competing for your attention for our own gain and I’m sorry. We never thought for a second that it was the chaffing of a mating bond. I never thought the Cauldron would find me worthy enough of a second bond, they are so rare. Especially with you. I’m so sorry Y/N. If you let me, us, we’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. Azriel confesses everything he has as he stands before you. He feels like he just placed his heart in the palm of your hand and is waiting for you to crush it between your fingers as you remain with your head down.

The Cauldron has blessed you with a mate after all… two mates. Males that you have been through so many ups and downs with during these last few years. And surely those years could trump the last few weeks of misunderstandings?

Okay. You lift your eyes to his as tears begin to spill over.

Azriel envelopes you first in his arms and then his wings. It wasn’t the confession he gave you but by the Mother he would take it. He meant what he said. He would do anything to mend what they had broken before they even knew they had it.

————————————————————————

Azriel winnowed you and Cassian back above the House of Wind. The three of you spent the rest of the day and evening discussing what had happened over the last couple of weeks. You confessed how you knew about their relationship. They confessed to their bet. They apologised over and over again. You confessed to catching on to their games early on.

“So you were never actually seeing anyone?”

“No, I haven't even been on a date since before the war.” You laugh and shake your head a little. A wave of jealously rolls down the bond and your eyes flick to meet Cassian’s.

You’d forgotten, for just a moment, about the mating bond. Well mating bonds. Lounging in the sitting room of the House of Wind with Cassian and Azriel felt like any other evening. The same usual banter flowed between you, but now when you took in their breathtaking smiles and low rumbling laughs there was no guilt to chase down your thoughts. You took in Cassian’s leathery wings stretched wide behind his low backed chair. You slide your eyes over his broad shoulders and the corded muscles of his exposed arms, landing on those Illyrian tattoos that you followed in the kitchen all those weeks ago, realising you might get the opportunity to finally follow their full trail across his skin.

Sweetheart Azriel shifts in his seat as his purring voice enters your mind. You might want to work on putting some shields in place. Your focus is pulled back then and you realise Cassian is gripping the armrests of his chair, his chest heaving in deep breaths, pupils blown wide with arousal as he pulls up the side of his mouth in a smirk.

Don’t listen to him baby. He’s just jealous. I was quite enjoying the appraisal. You blink in surprise as Cassian’s gruff voice enters your mind, startled to find that communication could flow openly between the three of you. That would be something you would have to delve into more later. Right now you could only focus on the Illyrian war lord across from you who had hunger rolling off him like a man who hadn’t eaten in months.

At Cassian’s words you realise you haven’t felt anything from Azriel’s side of the bond. Ever the cool, calm and collected one he was probably shielding everything from you right now and you found that it rubbed you the wrong way. You let your eyes fall on the Shadowsinger then, determined to have him drop his walls for you.

His deep black wings rise and fall behind him as he notices your attention. Your eyes trace along the top of his right wing until your attention falls to his throat, the way his adam's apple bobs has you swallowing dryly. You imagine placing your lips to the skin there and a shiver rolls through you. A shadow slides over his shoulder and curls low around his neck, almost vying for attention. You imagine what it would be like to not only have calloused hands pawing at you but smooth shadows as well and that’s when he snaps. His wall drops and his arousal twists and mingles with Cassian’s down the bond.

I thought you might be… opposed to my shadows in that scenario. He admits quietly. But having the bond so open you could easily read between the lines. He thought you might have been afraid of them. Of him.

You don’t scare me, Shadowsinger. You let admiration flow through the bond along with your words. In a blink of an eye Azriel is crowded over you, arms braced on the sides of your chair.

Really? He smirks down at you in challenge. It takes you one breath to recover from his sudden appearance, then you lean forward and place your lips to his neck in a featherlight kiss.

He groans and leans heavier into his arms.

Y/N we want to do this right. The normal way. Take you on those dates we asked you on. Cassian pleads with you. Interesting that when one loses their restraint the other finds it. You wonder if that's the bond at play or if that's just how Cassian and Azriel have always been.

Which part of this has been normal so far? You question as you send memories to both of them down the bond. Flashes of Cassian flirting in the kitchen and Azriel’s lingering touches during training. You also add some moments they’d never seen before; your lingering eyes catching on straining muscles as they spar shirtless in the training ring and the moment shadows led you to the sounds of them together, arousal shooting through you.

The world shifts beneath you then as Azriel lifts you from your chair. You wrap your legs around his waist and then his lips are on yours. There’s no delicacy to the kiss, it’s forceful, bruising, claiming. Soft sheets meet your back and you open your eyes to find Azriel has laid you down in his bed. His mouth moves to your neck, trailing kisses down to your chest before rising off the mattress. Shadows begin to swirl up your arms, replacing the touch of their master, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go for even a second. He turns to Cassian who has taken up residence leaning against the doorway.

“Nice of you to remember that I exist.” Cassian smirks at him. Any guilt you would have felt is quelled as you notice some of Azriel’s shadows linger around the Illyrians wrists and collarbone. Azriel strides across the room and grips the back of his neck.

“As if you’d ever let me forget.” Azriel whispers against his lips and kisses him. The kiss is gentle at first and you can’t help but feel the happiness that radiates from them. You’ve never seen them so open, relaxed and just… them.

Cassian is the first to push it further. Their lips still connected he shoves Azriel back into the room and kicks the door closed with his heel. There are hands in hair, gripping hips, mouths tugging on bottom lips and a soft whine escapes you as you watch your two favourite Illyrians devouring each other. Suddenly two pairs of dark eyes are on you.

Don’t worry baby, we haven't forgotten about you. Cassian's voice enters your mind as he moves towards the bed. He reaches back and pulls his shirt over his head, then climbs over you. He leans down and captures your mouth with his, taking his time to savour the moment. Then he spins, pulling you above him and props you up so you straddle his lap.

Wasn’t there some tracing you needed to do? He grins broadley up at you. You flush slightly at his reference to your errant imaginings but take in the swirls of Illyrian tattoos that wrap around thick muscles. You feel Cassian stiffen and then relax with a sigh as your tongue meets tanned skin. You trail across his shoulder, down his broad chest, pausing only to flick your tongue over a stiff nipple. He bucks up into you with a small moan. You continue down past chiselled abs as you move further down the bed finally reaching the line of muscle that disappears behind his waistband.

He watches you carefully as you begin to untie his pants. Finally you free him, curling your fingers around the velvet wrapped length. Suddenly a memory is forced into your vision. Cassian’s view in the kitchen, watching you devour strawberries dipped in cream. His focus is singular as he watches your tongue swipe up through the cream.

The room comes back to you and you smirk up at him laid back against the headboard before dipping your head down and running your tongue up the underside of him and flicking at his head.

Fuucckkk his moan reverberates in your mind as he throws his head back on the pillow. I’ve been imaging that for weeks and nothing even came close.

His reaction spurs you on and you get to work sucking him into your mouth, exploring with your tongue. You experiment with how deep you can take him and allow your hand to cover any part of the shaft that's not in your mouth. He continues to make small noises as the bed dips beside you. You look up to find Azriel already undressed, Cassian leaves your mouth with a small pop as your mouth falls open.

Oh please, he already knows he’s pretty. We’ll never hear the end of it now. Cassian teases.

Azriel leans forward and grips your chin gently forcing you to sit up.

As much as I was enjoying the show sweetheart, you are wearing far too many clothes. His hand trails down your front and rests at the hem of your shirt.

May I? He cocks his head in question. You nod silently, all words lost to you as your brain swims with arousal.

Words baby. Cassian props himself onto his elbows. There’s so much we want to do with you but we need to know you want it too.

Your eyes flick between Cassian and Azriel. Again surprised to find that Cassian was the one with more control. In the ring, on the battlefield, on a mission, it had always been the other way around. You pull your shirt over your head and reach back, releasing your bra, letting it fall into your lap.

I always thought actions spoke louder than words. You finally reply.

There’s my girl. Cassian reaches out, gripping around your hip, pulling you on top of him once again. And don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough why I’m left in control here. I don’t want to release Azriel onto you just yet. A shiver runs down your spine at the promise behind the words.

Azriel lets out a soft growl behind you as Cassian finds your lips. Suddenly there are hands everywhere. Cassian paws at your chest and rolls your nipple between his fingers, swallowing your moans in his mouth. Azriel positions himself behind you, quickly removing the rest of your clothes with a moan.

So fucking pretty. He runs a calloused hand up your inner thigh and you flush at the image he must be seeing of you bent over Cassian. His fingers run through your folds and settle on the bundle of nerves. You can only focus on not collapsing on top of Cassian under the assault of both Illyrians.

Azriel shuffles behind you and you feel his tongue flick against you and then swirl around you. He gently explores with his fingers, slipping a finger inside you as Cassian begins sucking marks on to your neck, your chest, anywhere his mouth can reach.

As quickly as Azriel’s tongue was on you, it vanishes and it's when Cassian knits his eyebrows together you realise, Azriel is using his mouth to pleasure you both.

While Cassian is briefly distracted you take the opportunity to return some of the marks to his own neck. Azriel then changes tactics and rubs Cassian’s head, slick with precum, against your clit as he adds another finger to the first, stretching you open as he pumps them in and out.

Please. You whine, already so close to the edge. Need you.

Azriel wastes no time as he sits up and lines Cassian up with your entrance. You slowly sink backwards feelling Cassian stretch you open until you sit flush over his hips.

Ride me baby girl, I’m all yours. Cassian purrs and you begin to bounce on top of him. Soft moans escape his lips as you move and you feel like you're glowing from your ability to bring him so much pleasure.

You lean over him, deepening the angle when the room darkens. Azriel leans over you both and whispers in your ear.

“Do you trust me?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Yes” You moan as Cassian slides deep into you again.

Azriel grips your hips and stops your movement as Cassian's length slides out of you, his head hovering at your entrance. Azriel enters you with a snap of his hips. You were glad you were stretched already as you take his large thick length in one quick thrust. He pulls out still holding you steady as he allows Cassian to buck up and enter you again.

They find a rhythm so quickly that you think must only come from being connected for so many centuries. You moan and whimper into the space between Cassian’s shoulder and neck. It feels like there isn’t a moment when you aren’t filled by either of them as they both fuck you hard and fast.

Cassian reaches up and pulls you away from his body so you hover above him.

Want to hear you baby. Want to see you as we make you fall apart. Come for me Y/N.

Your body obeys without you even thinking as you clench around them as they continue to enter you over and over again. When you’ve ridden your high, Azriel backs away enough for Cassian to pump into you a few more times before finishing himself, seated deep inside you.

There’s a few moments to catch your breath as you sit up and then Azriel is back, one hand your hip the other softly wrapping around your neck.

Do you have another one for us sweetheart? For me? The deep rumble of his voice raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

Always. You whimper as his hands trace circles across your sensitive skin. He pulls you off Cassian and leans you back against his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He lifts you to enter you from behind again-

No Azriel freezes as soon as the thought enters your mind. You panic realising he thinks you want him to stop. No, Azriel. You lean your head back on his shoulder to meet his eyes. I want to see you, want to touch you.

Azriel’s eyes soften and he lays you on the bed next to Cassian.

Both so pretty. He murmurs as he lines himself up with you, appreciating the view of you and Cassian laid out before him. And mine. A darkness swirls in his eyes at the claiming and a thrill runs through you. Cassian trails his fingers up your thigh as Azriel enters you.

His thrusts are quick and hard. You let your hands explore up his stomach, across his chest and down his arms as sets an unrelenting pace. It isn’t long before you’re on the edge again but Azriel doesn’t give any indication that he’s anywhere near finished with you.

You drove him near mad that day after training. Cassian whispers into your mind. He’s sensitive to touch, I’ll show you where it affects him the most.

Cassian settles in the back of your mind then and gently instructs you to reach out for his wings. You do as he says and brush a hand along the inside of the warm membrane. A growl rumbles through Azriels chest as he tips his head back. You continue to follow Cassian’s detailed instructions learning the places that pull moans from Azriel’s lips.

A few moments later, Azriel is practically panting above you, pupils blown wide as his hips continue to snap into you. You feel your own tension building alongside his own.

Go with him, baby girl. Cassian purrs as he reaches down and presses firmly on your over sensitive clit. You see white behind your eyes as you finish for the second time tonight.

————————————————————————

You're curled between two Illyrian bodies as only the sounds of soft breathing fill the air. You’ve never felt more safe or more satisfied for that matter. You wonder how things are going to be from now on. Whether your bond will remain a secret like theirs has. Laying on your side, you take in Azriel’s sleeping form and wonder what Cassian meant about ‘releasing Azriel’ onto you. Your pulse quickens, imagining all the things the three of you could get up to together. Cassian’s hand tightens on your hip from behind you as Azriel blinks open his eyes. You flush, clearly they weren’t as asleep as you thought.

Cassian leans in to whisper at your ear.

“Firstly, I’m glad you feel both safe and satisfied because that’s what we’re here for.” His nose brushes along your neck. “Secondly, we’ll figure out the bond together. Nothing will be decided without you.”

Azriel leans forward and whispers against your lips. “Thirdly, you’ll learn soon enough what happens when I get to play my way.” He kisses you softly and Cassian trails kisses down your spine. You know for certain the first thing you're going to do is learn how to block these two from your mind.

[webbluvrsugar]

I don't care, literally any thing with subby virgin Ethan and soft dom experienced reader

a/n: No cause I totally like this so I’ll do it even if it doesn’t win <3 — I already did him giving you head but I think it’s only fitting we switch the roles too <3 — hope you like it, I’ve never really done a soft dom reader so this was a nice try.

giving Ethan head for the first time.

It’s probably going to happen on one Halloween frat party night that you convince him to go to, you’ve been dancing and drinking all night and it’s probably with a tight little outfit that leaves him staring at you, Chad is next to him for a big part of it, telling him just to go and talk to you because — you’re his girlfriend after all, he shouldn’t be nervous, you’ve done worst things to him than just dancing.

You notice his staring only when Chad goes away, so you walk to him and pull him close on the dance floor, rubbing your ass all over him as you sway your hips, and he just stands there all flushed and nervous when you bring his hands into your hips, telling him to “chill, E, everyone’s doing the same.” so he leans into it, dances with you when the drinks he shoved down his throat to look cool finally hit him. He finally gets why you like this so much, he doesn’t really like dancing — not at all — but he likes the way you dance against him so shamelessly, he can almost see your whole ass in that dress, it makes him hard, painfully hard.

After a while, when you’re tired, you ask if he wants to leave, he nods with no doubt, he’s excited, following you to your room and grinning once you’re tossing him on the bed. You pin him against the sheets, kiss him and palm him through his pants before you’re kneeling by the end of the frame between his knees, pulling his pants down, his boxers follow through. He’s blushing, groaning occasionally, he’s never done this, sure he’s given you head a few times, fingered you even, but he’s never really received it, so he just lets you do whatever.

Your fingers wrap around his cock, you lean your head down, tongue tracing a wide stride from the base to the head of his cock, circling the tip before licking the pre-cum that comes out of it, eyes focused on his before they drop down.

“Ohhh god..” he mutters, head throwing back, his muscles flexing as he grips onto the sheets, handling himself not to grip your hair instead.

You squeeze tighter around him, he groans as his eyes go down to watch you, waiting expectantly only to be met by a smirk. “You like that?” You ask, chucking.

“A lot, like — like it a lot.” He whispers and you drag your hand up and down, your thumb slides by his head and he hisses, his eyes closing.

You smile again, almost scoffing at him before you take him past your lips, going all the way down, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, he sees that and can’t handle himself anymore, one hand flies to your hair and slightly grips it, a raspy moan escapes him as you hollow your cheeks, he has no clue what you’re doing — but it’s working.

He’s trying his best to follow your pace, after all, you always know better than him, but he can’t seem to let go of the wish to want you to go faster, harder down your throat, so he bucks his hips up, testing you, when you don’t complain, he holds your head down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“I — I’m sorry.” He whispers, his hips moving faster, his will only getting bigger when he hears your gags and muffled moans, when he sees the mess of your spit on the base of his cock.

“I am so sorry.” He says again, his hand pressing your head still as his hips keep moving. “Just feels s’good.” He’s apologetic, but you really don’t mind, Ethan never really takes control of things, it’s fun to see this side of him, even if the lack of air is present.

You look up to him again, big eyes staring into his brown ones and he leans back slightly on the sheets, his movements become faster, more desperate as he’s searching his release.

Your mouth is so warm, so tight and wet, he can’t help but wonder how will it be when you really take his virginity, when you let him inside your cunt, he can only wait for it, he’ll fuck you like this if you let him, he needs it, just the thought of that brings him close to cumming for you.

“Fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck—“

He can’t hold it for long, he’s trying to be a good fuck but it’s almost impossible when you look at him like that, so he stops worrying for now, his eyes roll back, his movements falter and you can feel all of it painting the back of your throat as he falls back against the sheets.

“Shit you’re so good at this.”

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson (it has a title y'all!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Nervous excitement has Steve out of his bed 25 minutes before his alarm goes off to wake him. It’s not unusual on game days. He gathers ingredients in the kitchen until he hears Robin’s alarm, and then he starts making both their breakfast smoothies.

She fumbles down the hallway a few moments later with her eyes still closed, takes the cup from him, and sits in the middle of their living room floor.

“Pilates today? Or did you get a workout in at the show last night?” She asks after a few sips, and Steve joins her near their mats.

“It’s a tradition, can’t go changing shit now.” He teases, laughing as she throws her head back with a tired groan. Then she’s hauling herself to her bedroom to grab a hoodie.

They exercise on the balcony, like always, but keep it light. Steve tries to get plenty of stretching in on game days, making sure he’s loose and limber before he hits the ice. After about 30 minutes, Robin’s teeth are chattering in the cool morning air, so he calls it, and they head back inside. He gathers his gear while Robin showers, and then they make their way to United.

Steve heads to the locker room to gear up, manages to finish a whole bottle of water before he hits the rink. He takes a few slow laps around the rink as the rest of the team starts to roll in, runs through a few drills on his own before team practice starts.

They keep things minimal on game days; sprints and passes, shots on goal. Steve does a final lap backwards around the rink, before clearing off to the locker room to finish putting on his uniform while the other team takes the ice for their own practice. 

As he refills his water bottle, he gets whacked in the shin with the body of a hockey stick. He watches it happen, feels an echo of the impact on his shin guard, before turning to raise an eyebrow at Max.

“Hello to you, too.” He says through a little smile. She rolls her eyes, but smiles back at him.

“They’re here.” She says, in an ominous tone, despite her smile. “You guys seemed to hit it off last night, I’m glad you didn’t scare him away with your weirdness.” 

“I’m not weird, you guys are weird.” He mumbles back, kicking the stick from her hand but catching it before it hits the ground. “Last night was fun. I just hope he doesn’t hate the game as much as I think he’s going to.”

“Awfully concerned about him having a good time.” She leans in closer to him to tease, and while he feels his ears get hot, he shoves the hockey stick back into her arms and walks back toward his locker. “Dustin is working in the AV booth tonight, so be prepared for a lot of Eddie on the big screen.”

“You overestimate how much attention I pay to the overhead.” He replies, rolling his eyes and taking a big gulp of water. 

He hadn’t exactly considered the consequences of Eddie actually coming to the game. He was bound to draw a lot of attention, but what would that turn into? Steve had, smartly, elected to stay off the internet after he’d gotten home last night, and he hadn’t bothered to check social media before coming in. He was sure there were pictures and videos of him at the show floating around, insinuating things beyond what they actually meant. He was just as sure that there was at least one person who had taken to their feeds to report that Eddie and Steve had hung out after the show; never mind the fact that everyone else was there. Never mind the fact that they weren’t alone. 

Except they had spent most of the night alone. Other than a few interruptions, their time at Fatpour had mostly consisted of Eddie and Steve sitting at a high-top table close to the bar, munching on snacks and talking about everything and nothing and whatever crossed their minds. Eddie insisted he was going to make a playlist for Steve, and Steve offered to teach Eddie how to ice skate. And it felt… nice. It had been a while since Steve had that with anyone.

Max just moves on, reminding Steve of which stretches he needs to do now that he’s in his gear, and the coach and captain both give speeches in the locker room, before everyone moves out to the rink. They take the ice as the announcer reads off their name, and Steve taps his stick with the right wing who stakes up next to him.

He glances around, chewing on his mouth guard absently. A part of him knows that Robin and Eddie and whoever else from CC made the trip to the game are in one of the boxes around the upper level of the area, but he hadn’t asked which one when he had briefly texted with Eddie this morning, and now it was too late. But, he figures it’s probably for the best. Not knowing where to look keeps him from running the risk of sparking more speculation about nothing.

______

Even having heeded Steve’s warning to wear layers to the game, Eddie is freezing. He’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt under a hoodie under a leather jacket, but he’s still cold. And Robin is bouncing around the box suite in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, looking perfectly comfortable and Eddie doesn’t get it. He zips his leather jacket all the way up and sinks into his seat, bobbing his head along to the music echoing through the arena.

“You’re going to be cold when we’re leaving if you don’t take something off.” Robin chastises, and Eddie just rolls his eyes. Jeff, Freak and Lucas are chatting, sitting in the seats just outside of the box. Inside the box, Gareth looks just as cold as Eddie, chatting with Nancy and Will on a sofa.

Paige returns a few minutes later with a bag of merchandise, courtesy of a voucher from the team, and drops it on Gareth’s lap. “Hoodie for you,” She declares, pulling out a black hoodie with the Blackhawks logo and throwing it into Gareth’s face. “Hoodie for you,” She adds, tossing a red one in Eddie’s direction. She pulls two more thinner zip ups out of the bag and drops them on Jeff and Freak’s heads. When she comes back in, she locks eyes with Eddie, who pauses as he unzips his leather jacket.

“What?” He asks, cautiously, and she grins.

“Got something else for you,” She says, and he’s instantly concerned.

“You’re freaking me out.” Eddie points out as he slips the hoodie he’d worn over his head and replaces it with the fleece-lined red hoodie with “Blackhawks” written across the back shoulders. Robin claps and jumps up and down beside him, concerning him further.

“They put one aside!?” She asks, and Paige nods, before tossing the rest of the bag to Eddie.

When he pulls out the contents, he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “You guys asked them to give me a Harrington jersey?” He raises an eyebrow at Robin, before pulling it over his head. It fits a little loose over the hoodie, but looks similar to how he’d seen other people wear theirs.

“Steve doesn’t know, but I asked. Figured you might like it.” She says, grinning as he turns a light shade of pink he fully intends to blame on the cold.

When the team introductions start, Robin drags Eddie out into the seats just outside the box, so they have a better view. While it’s colder out there, Eddie’s warmer in the new tops, and finds he doesn’t mind it as much. 

Robin and the members of the Party in the box break into cheers when Steve skates out onto the ice, and Eddie can’t help the little smile that crosses his face as he watches Steve interact with his team.

The puck drops and Steve manages to slip it away from the Kraken’s center, gliding down the ice effortlessly before passing it off. It’s a tiny thing, trying to pay attention to the puck, so Eddie finds himself just tracking Steve as he zips and twists around. After a few minutes, Steve skates back to the Blackhawks box and jumps in as another player hits the ice.

“What happened? Is he hurt?” Eddie’s confused as he looks at Robin, who gives him a soft smile.

“He’s fine. They only play for so long, before they switch out to keep them from getting tired.”

He tries to pay attention to what’s happening then, with Steve off the ice, but finds himself watching the other sit along the bench. He bangs his stick against the wall a few times, shouting things Eddie can’t hear. When he gets up to go back into the game, he pats the player he’s replacing on the back before hitting the ice. 

The next chance he gets the puck, he takes a shot toward the goalie, who stops the puck between his legs. Steve keeps skating, zipping around and getting back into the action. He gets the puck back, but is quickly checked by two Krakens who send him into the boards hard. Eddie grimaces, and a penalty is called on both Krakens for charging.

Steve scores a goal in the second period, and Eddie joins the Party in cheering along. He spots himself on the big screen and grabs Robin, pulling her into frame as she jumps up and down. 

The celebrations die down a little, and Robin scooches closer to him. “I can have them knock it off, if you don’t want to be up there. Dustin’s in the booth right now.” She offers, and he shrugs.

“I don’t mind. I kind of expected it, after the TikTok blew up.” He shrugs, tracking Steve back around the ice.

Blackhawks end up winning the game, 5-2, and while Steve doesn’t score again, he assists in each of the following goals. Each time, he has a different celebration with whoever he set up for the goal, and it’s sweet to watch Steve goof off, to hear his friends' excitement as he succeeds.  Walking back out of the booth, Eddie feels like his voice is more raw from screaming at the hockey game than it was from last night’s concert. 

_____________

“You shouldn’t skip the ice bath, Steve, you took a hard hit into that wall.” Max is lecturing as they move through the arena to where she says everyone is waiting. 

“I’m fine, I’ve taken worse hits and I stretched plenty. My shoulder just dug into the pad wrong. I’ll have a bruise, but it’s fine.” He insists, holding the door open for her then following her into the box where chaos immediately erupts.

Mike and Lucas are bouncing around, gushing about how great he played. Steve laughs, squeezing Lucas’ shoulder and ruffling Mike’s hair, before his eyes land on the band. They’re all wearing fresh Blackhawks gear, and Steve can’t help but grin.

“Oh man, I’m so glad you guys were able to come! Did you have a good time?” He asks, moving closer to them.

“Dude, I fucking love hockey. I haven’t been to a game in forever, this was sick. And you were killing it out there. I think I like hockey even more knowing someone who is playing.” Freak says, and Gareth nods along.

“Hockey is the only sport I’d ever really been interested in, so this was fun! Great game.”

“I have never had an interest in hockey before, but it was still cool to learn about.” Jeff admits, and then Steve turns to Eddie. His hands are tucked up inside the sleeves of the jersey, nestled in the front pocket of the hoodie beneath, but he grins.

“I concede, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated. I think it helps that you were awesome out there.”

Steve turns a soft shade of pink, shaking his head before nodding back toward the door out of the box. “Want to grab dinner with us? I’m starving.”

______________

They’re in some bar Steve texted the directions to but Eddie can’t remember the name, when he catches Steve staring at him from his spot between Dustin and Lucas. Eddie raises an eyebrow and waves a little, which seems to snap Steve out of it. He blushes and waves back, before covering his face with his hands. Eddie snorts, before getting up and moving so he’s sitting across from Steve.

“You weren’t mad that I put you up on the big screen, right? I think the team actually put it up on socials at some point, so I hope you didn’t mind.” Dustin rambles at Eddie as soon as he sits, but he’s quick to ease the kid’s concerns.

“It was fun. Don’t worry about it, kid. Really.” He says, watches Dustin visibly relax, but then Robin carts him and Lucas away, giving Steve and Eddie space and tossing a wink in Eddie’s direction. Eddie finds himself growing to appreciate her more and more. “I really did have a good time tonight. Cross my heart.” Eddie says, before drawing an “x” over his heart with his fingers.

Steve laughs, and opens his mouth to say something before he seems to reconsider. He thinks for a moment, before leaning over the table. “Are you wearing my jersey?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, looks down and laughs. He’d forgotten he hadn’t taken it off, and Robin had said that Steve didn’t know about it. “I mean, it’s technically not yours. Just has your name and number on it.”

Steve squints his eyes before he leans back and takes a sip of his beer. Eddie seizes the opportunity to be chaotic, then, decides to take the leap. “I mean, I totally could be wearing your jersey, if you wanted me to. But you’re going to have to take me out of this one first.” 

It’s worth it, if for no other reason than Steve starts choking on his drink, coughing loudly and drawing everyone’s attention. He composes himself quickly, but his face is still bright red, and Eddie grins.

“You’re a menace.” Steve accuses, voice hoarse and thick, and Eddie shrugs.

“What are you going to do about it?” He challenges.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm going to try reblogging with a tag list this week because it's LONG and I have no idea how else to try to make it work without hitting a character limit. Thank you to everyone who is still reading! I've got so many ideas for this bouncing around in my head, I can't wait to flesh them out and I hope you continue to enjoy!

[primehyuck]

MOVES

aka good things take time (the happy ending version)

word count: 11.3k

i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that

contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names

“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.

“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.

“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.

“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.

“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.

———

Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.

You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.

The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.

“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted

“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”

“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.

By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.

One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”

It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.

Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.

Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”

“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.

“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”

“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.

“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”

“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.

“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.

You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.

“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”

“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.

“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."

“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”

He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.

———

Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.

"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.

"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.

"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”

"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”

"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.

"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."

"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"

"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.

"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."

"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."

———

Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.

“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”

He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.

“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.

“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.

“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”

Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”

He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.

“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.

———

“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch

“What happened?”

“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.

“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.

Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.

His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.

He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."

“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.

———

This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.

The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.

When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.

But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.

“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”

His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.

“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.

“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.

“You never really talked about, why, you know.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.

You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.

As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.

You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.

"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.

"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.

Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.

You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.

“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”

Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.

He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.

He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.

The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.

“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.

“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.

“When will we be able to see each other again?”

“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”

“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.

“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”

———

Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.

Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.

Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.

But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.

That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.

“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”

He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”

“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.

"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."

You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.

"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.

"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."

"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."

Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."

"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."

"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.

"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.

"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.

"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."

———

This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.

When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.

“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.

“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.

“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”

You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.

“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.

“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.

“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”

You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.

“What time do you have to be up?”

He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”

You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.

The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.

Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.

“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.

“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.

“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.

“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”

You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.

“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.

“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.

“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”

“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”

Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.

“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”

The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.

“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.

“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.

“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.

You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.

On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.

You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.

Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier

“made it back”

you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.

------

Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.

This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.

When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.

"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."

"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."

"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"

"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."

He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."

He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.

He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours

"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.

“What if you change your mind?”

“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.

"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."

You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.

You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.

When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.

"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.

"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."

"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.

"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."

He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.

"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.

"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.

All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”

“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.

“Way too long.”

“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”

———

He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.

You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.

You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.

"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.

"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.

"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.

"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.

"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.

"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.

Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.

“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.

“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.

“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.

You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.

You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.

“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”

“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.

“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”

Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.

“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.

“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.

“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.

You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.

He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.

You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.

“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.

“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.

“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.

“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."

"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.

You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”

You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."

"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."

He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.

You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.

“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”

He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.

“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.

“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”

"All the planets in my head too."

————

masterlist

authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.

[chestersturniolo]

𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘴

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

•the heart wrenching notion of right person, wrong time •

warnings; none apart from no happy ending!

••••••••

It was a cool evening, the kind where the air was crisp but not cold enough to make you shiver. You sat on the park bench, as the sun started to set. You could hear the soft rustle of leaves and the distant noise of the main streets, but all you could focus on was Matt sitting beside you.

Months had led up to this moment—months of late-night conversations, spontaneous adventures, and sharing parts of yourself you hadn’t shown anyone else. He was the kind of person who made you laugh without trying, who knew when to talk and when to simply sit in silence with you. And yet, here you were, on the verge of saying goodbye.

“Timing is such a cruel thing, isn’t it?” Matt said softly, breaking the stillness between you. His voice had that familiar warmth, but there was a heaviness to it now, a sadness.

You nodded, struggling to find words for a moment. "Yeah…it really is”

Matt turned to look at you, his blue eyes catching the last bits of sunlight. The conflict in them was clear—he wanted this as much as you did, but there was something bigger, something neither of you could change. “If things were different—if we’d met just a year from now, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’ve thought about that a lot too. But it’s not a year from now…It’s now…”

Matt looked down at his hands, his fingers tracing the edge of the bench. “I can’t ask you to wait for me. It’s not fair. My career... this move... it’s going to change everything, and I don’t even know what that looks like for me yet. I don’t want to drag you into something uncertain”

He was leaving to pursue his youtube career with his brothers in LA — a dream opportunity, something he’d worked so hard for. You were proud of him, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. The timing, as always, was off. The universe had a funny way of bringing people together just to pull them apart again.

“I don’t want to hold you back, either” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You deserve this, Matt. And I... I have things I need to figure out too”

It wasn’t a lie. You had your own ambitions, your own dreams you were chasing. But that didn’t change the fact that, right now, sitting next to him, you wished things were different. You wished the rest of the world would stop for a while, so the two of you could just exist here, without all the complications.

Matt sighed and leaned back, looking up at the sky. “You know what’s funny? I’ve never felt more connected to someone than I do with you. But life… life just won’t wait”

You turned to him, heart aching. “What if we’re making a mistake? What if we’re letting something slip away that could’ve been—”

He cut you off gently. “No, don’t think like that. What we have... it’s real. But sometimes love isn’t enough to change the timing of things. Maybe we’re supposed to meet again when the time is right”

The words stung, even though you knew they were true. Maybe it wasn’t forever. Maybe someday, when your paths crossed again, things would fall into place. But right now, you were at a crossroads, and you couldn’t walk the same path.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. His fingers laced with yours, and you sat like that for a long moment, neither of you wanting to let go.

“When you leave tomorrow...” you started, your voice trembling.

“When I leave tomorrow, it doesn’t change what we had” he finished for you. 

The tears you’d been holding back finally slipped down your cheek, but you quickly wiped them away, not wanting him to see. “Do you think we’ll find our way back to each other someday?”

Matt smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I really hope so sweetheart….but if we don’t, at least we’ll know that for a while, we found something extraordinary , something real… eachother”

You nodded, knowing this moment would stay with you no matter what the future held.

As the sun disappeared completely behind the horizon, you knew it was time. Time to let go, even though it felt impossible.

The silence between you grew heavy, the weight of unspoken words filling the air. Matt glanced at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment,as tears started brimming in his own.

He leaned in slowly ,placing his lips into yours, soft and tender, a kiss that held everything you couldn’t say. It was a kiss filled with goodbye, with love, with all the moments you’d shared and the ones you would never have. Time seemed to stop around you, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. Just the two of you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel his breath against your skin. His hand cupped your face gently, thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped down your cheek.

“I love you—” he whispered, his voice trembling. 

“—I love you with my whole heart”

Your chest tightened, the weight of those words sinking into you. You felt it too, every ounce of what he was saying. “I love you too”

But you both knew love wasn’t enough to change what was happening next.

Matt hesitantly stood up, offering his hand. With a small sigh you wrap your hand around his, pulling yourself up.

He pulled you close, kissing you one last time, the taste of salty tears from both of you lingering.

You both slowly pulled away,

“I’m going to miss you” you whispered.

Matt squeezed your hand gently before letting go. “I’m going to miss you too-“ be breathed, trying his hardest to hold back his tears, but failing miserably as they continued to fall. 

“-Maybe in another life,huh?” he sniffled.

You left out a soft sob at his words, tears streaming uncontrollably. Your bring your hand up to your chest, laying it comfortingly over your aching heart. 

All you could muster was a small nod 

“Another life” you whisper.

You both stood for a moment, just looking at eachother. Trying to memorise every detail. 

Matt placed his hand on your cheek, before leaning forward, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. He pulls away, as his thumb brushes back and forth. His teary eyes met yours, both of you silently saying goodbye. It was too painful to say out loud. You both knew it, and you knew eachother knew it. So you stood silently, letting your gazes say it all. 

Matt slowly started walking backwards, his eyes still locked to yours, with a small smile and sniffle, he turned around. 

As he started walking away from you, you couldn’t hold back the sobs, wrapping your arms around yourself as a form of faux comfort.

Matt stops in his tracks, the sound of your cries ripping his heart to shreds. He stands still, his back still facing you.

“Don’t look back Matt” you call out, voice trembling. 

He stayed paused, for what felt like an eternity. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the conflict in his stance. But finally, he took a deep breath and hesitantly continued walking, each step heavy with finality. You watched as his silhouette got smaller , and eventually disappeared into the dark, carrying your heart with him. 

••••••••••••

A/N; i’m actually distraught after writing that wtf😭 probably the saddest thing i’ve written and i hate it but love it at the same time. thankyou for reading loves!!

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

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[junkissed]

after dark

member — boyfriend!jun x f reader genre — smut word count — 2k synopsis — jun and you agree to try something new, and you don't realize how much you enjoy it. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, somnophilia, but it is very explicitly consensual!!, unprotected sex, thigh riding, some praise bc jun is still a soft boy notes — requested by 💤 anon — this was so fun to write holy shit aksgdfj. lots of love to @onlymingyus and @duhnova for reading for me! header pic creds are to @/000scans. i hope you all enjoy! :)

when jun first brought up somnophilia to you, you didn’t think much of it. you definitely thought it was hot, but you didn’t see yourself as the kind of person who would do it often. you’d never been so horny you couldn’t fall asleep, and you’d never woken up in the middle of the night desperate enough to even consider it. 

that is, until tonight.

you’d been having such a good dream—such a hot dream—about jun, and his lips on your body had felt so real it had startled you awake, your cunt throbbing and your cheeks burning hot.

you glance over at your boyfriend, still perfectly sound asleep next to you. tiny snores leave his pretty lips, and suddenly you feel a wave of heat wash over you. the way his eyes are gently closed, lashes fluttering in his sleep and loose strands of hair falling across his eyebrows, drives you crazy. so soft and sweet, blissfully unaware of how you’re already soaking through your panties.

you hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not you should wake him up or go hide in the bathroom and finger yourself instead, not wanting to disturb him. 

but you remember the conversation you’d had a few days ago. he wanted this, he’d explicitly asked you to use him whenever you wanted, even if he was asleep; both of you had agreed to be available for each other’s pleasure any day or night, and now was a better opportunity than ever for it.

your eyes fall to his exposed chest, rising and falling with each small breath. he never sleeps with a shirt on when the weather warms up, and you’re mentally both cursing him and thanking him for it.

in the darkness you can just barely make out the lines of his collarbones and the shadows they cast across the grooves in his neck. your eyes trail down his chest to his nipples, already stiffened from the ceiling fan blowing cool air around the room.

before you can think twice you’re imagining all the times you’ve run your hands along his body, feeling the firmness of his chest beneath your fingertips and the softness of his skin, tracing the toned definition of his abs.

you want to reach out and touch him again, but you’re afraid you’ll wake him. but at the same time, you want him to wake up and find you so needy, rubbing your thighs together beneath the covers as you watch him sleep.

after another minute of painful staring you finally push the covers down below your waist, slowly scooting closer to jun’s sleeping body. when he doesn’t move, you carefully hoist your leg in between his, sinking down to straddle his thigh.

immediately you sigh in relief, grateful to finally feel something firm pressing against your aching cunt to relieve some of the pressure.

you stay still for a second, making sure he hasn’t woken up before you start to rock your hips back and forth. you can already feel your panties sticking to your folds, your wetness seeping out onto his boxer shorts.

you choke back a whimper, starting to grind down harder on his leg as you get more and more frantic. you’re struggling to stay quiet, so you lift your hand to stick two of your own fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite down on. your other hand grips at the sheets at jun’s side, trying so hard not to make noise but you can’t help the whines that escape you as you desperately ride his thigh.

suddenly you feel jun’s hips lift a little, chasing your movements and you squeak in surprise, fingers falling out of your mouth. your heart races as your gaze flies to his face to check if he’s awake; his eyes remain closed, but a small smile is beginning to form on his lips.

you feel his hands slowly slide up to your waist, holding onto your hips tightly to help guide you along his thigh.

“doing so good, baby,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep and so deep it sends shivers straight to your pussy.

“fuck– sorry, junnie, was t-trying not to wake you,” you stammer, and his grip tightens as he drags your hips faster and faster.

“don’t be sorry,” he purrs, eyes still closed. “making you feel so good, aren’t i?”

“yes, fuck—so good, more, please,” you moan in response, and he bends his knee, giving you a new angle to work with.

you push your hips down harder, the friction of his boxers and your panties rubbing against your clit at just the right angle to bring you right up to the edge.

you feel like your breathing stops when you finally stumble into your orgasm, mouth open with no sound coming out as your pussy gushes all over his leg. your hips stop but his hands keep going, pulling and pushing you along his thigh like he’s the one getting off instead of you, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life while both of you are still clothed.

finally he slows down and lets go of your hips, letting you fall forward onto his bare chest, your breath coming out in short pants. sweat drips down your neck from the exertion and your heartbeat pounds in your ears, but jun just lifts a tired hand to push your hair out of your face.

“so proud of you, baby, you did so good.”

you whine in embarrassment and hoist your legs off of him, but his words bring up butterflies in your stomach. it’s not long before your eyes become heavy and you fall asleep in his arms, thoroughly satisfied.

it’s not long after that night that jun wakes you up for the first time.

unconsciously you feel the room heat up, and as you come out of your sleep you begin to register the little gasps coming from above you. 

you stir, adjusting your head against the pillow before you pry your eyes open to see jun kneeling over you, chest heaving for breath and his hair slick with sweat.

“junnie?” you call out softly, still mostly asleep as you start to process what’s going on. you sit up on your elbows, and that’s when you notice the liquid on your stomach. 

you blink a couple times, glancing down to find yourself covered in jun’s cum, warm and sticky all over your lower half. you look back up at your boyfriend, a sleepy smile across your face.

he groans as he tucks his softening cock back into his underwear, leaning down to press his lips against yours gently. “you don’t know how fucking beautiful you look when you’re sleeping,” he sighs into your mouth. “gets me so fucking hard. just the sight of you, my pretty baby.”

you whine and lean back, falling into the sheets as he slides off the bed. you force yourself to stay awake until he returns a few moments later, a cool washcloth in his hand as he wipes his cum off of you.

once he’s done he tosses the cloth on the nightstand, slipping back into bed and rubbing his hand along your stomach as you let your eyes fall shut again.

he leans over to kiss your cheek. “thank you, darling. always so good for me,” he whispers, and you hum happily, quickly succumbing to sleep once more. you could really get used to this.

a week later you awake in the middle of the night to find jun grinding his cock on your leg, rutting his hips against you.

you pry your eyes open and turn your head to face him, placing your hand on his chest to get his attention.

“baby, please,” he rasps, his hands falling to your waist to pull you against him in rhythm with his thrusts. “‘m so close, need you so bad.”

you slide your hand down his body, stopping when you find his cock, throbbing and painfully hard against your thigh.

fighting through the sleepy haze in your mind you roll onto your side facing him and push your panties down your legs with a whine. “want you to fuck me, jun, please. use me.”

if you could’ve seen through the darkness you would’ve seen his eyes widen and his cheeks flush at your words, but you can only feel his hands prying your legs apart as he slides his cock between your folds. you can feel his fingertips holding you so tightly it’s likely they’ve left bruises, and you can feel the leaking head of his cock rocking against you.

he slips into you and you whimper, your half-asleep state making the feeling of his cock stretching you open both heightened and lessened. your brain short circuits when he finally sheathes himself fully inside of you, mouth hanging open as you struggle to put words together in your head.

even without all your senses you can tell he’s struggling to hold himself back from fucking you at the pace he wants, trying to give you a moment to get your bearings first. 

but you don’t care. you need him to fuck you, need to feel him release and know that you’re the one bringing him pleasure even when you’re doing nothing at all. even when you’re asleep, completely dead to the world, you’re still the only one that can get him off, and it makes your ego soar.

“jun, please, harder,” you moan, your voice already hoarse though you’ve barely said a word tonight. “need you to go harder.”

he groans and doesn’t respond, instead pulling out of you nearly all the way before slamming his cock into you, immediately setting a brutal pace. you can already feel that he’s close, and you clench around him with all your strength, trying to bring his orgasm closer.

he whines out your name, and you whine out his, both equally desperate to finish. with your body pressed against his front you can feel his abs expand and contract with each stroke, his muscles tightening as he builds himself up.

you’re not surprised that you’re already close to your own orgasm; just how he gets off at the thought of you, the thought of him is enough to make you cum in seconds and leave you breathless.

without warning your orgasm washes over you, your whole body trembling in his arms as his hips falter and he struggles to keep up his pace with an airy moan. 

he squeezes his eyes shut, continuing to fuck you through your high until you’ve regained enough of your senses. he thrusts into you a few more times until he pulls out at the last possible second, his cum exploding onto your hips and thighs as he jerks his fist up and down along his cock to make sure he’s released every last drop.

he leans over you, still reeling from your orgasm, and kisses your temple like he always does when you’re finished.

as much as he doesn’t want to leave your side he knows you probably (definitely) won’t want to wake up covered in his dried cum, so reluctantly he rolls off the bed to find a washcloth.

but when he returns you’re already sound asleep again, your powerful orgasm sending you back to dreamland just as fast as he’d pulled you out of it. wordlessly he cleans you up, making sure to get every crevice that you might complain about later and trying not to giggle out loud when he looks up to see you drooling on your pillow.

back under the covers he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your cheek and resisting the urge to kiss you all over. he’d much rather save those for a time when you’re awake to enjoy them.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging with tags or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[dancinglikebutterflywings]

It Was Supposed To Be You | Kim Hongjoong

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Fem!Reader 

Synopsis: Y/N runs into her ex the night before she's meant to be getting married.

Warnings: Angst turned to fluff. Ex-lovers to lovers. Swearing. Kinda run-away brideish. This is a repost from my now deactivated blog. More of an explanation in my pinned post.

Word Count: 3,013 - this is the longest imagine I've ever written. It took 4-5 days and a lot of editing. I hope you all enjoy. 

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Y/N can't help but laugh at a joke told by her maid of honour. She is out for dinner and cocktails, celebrating what her friends and her older sister affectionately refer to as her "last night of freedom". Shes getting married tomorrow afternoon. Everything appears to be going well until she sees someone she never expected to see again.  

Kim Hongjoong, her first and former love, is seated at a nearby table with his friends. Filled with a mix of emotions, she excuses herself from the group of women she's with, mentioning that she needs to use the restroom. She politely declines her sister’s offer to accompany her, and she walks in the opposite direction of the restrooms.  

Stepping outside the restaurant into the cool night air, hoping the gentle breeze will help alleviate her overwhelming feelings, she doesn’t notice she's being followed until she hears his familiar voice. It's the same voice that she once adored and found comfort in, whether he was talking, rapping, singing, or shouting at his fellow members.  

She turns to face him, unsure of what to say or do. The last time they had seen each other, it had been a whirlwind of anger and heartbreak. Determined to keep her composure, she acts as she hadn’t just seen him a minute ago. "Kim Hongjoong?"  

"I heard you were back in town," he says, a look of surprise on his face. His eyes drift towards her hand, fixating on her large engagement ring. "I heard you're getting married." His eyes met hers again with a mix uncertainty and a hint of sadness. "Congratulations."    

Avoiding his gaze, she glances down at her shoes and quietly thanks him.   

"Are you happy?" Hongjoong is unable to stop himself from asking. Thoughts of her, her happiness, and the impending wedding have consumed his mind ever since Wooyoung shared the news with him last night.  

Tears threaten to fall as she struggles to hold back her feeling as she continues to avoid his intense stare and nodded her head. She knows as soon as she looks at him, he will see the doubt written all over her face.  

In the weeks leading up to her wedding day, she has been plagued with self-doubt. Is she happy? She believes so. Her fiancé is a good man who treats her well and cares for her. However, deep down, she knows he is not the one she always pictured marrying. The painful truth is that he will never be.  

Because the man she had once imagined spending her life with now stands before her, igniting a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Memories of their past relationship flood her mind, reminding her of the deep and unconditional love they once shared. It was a love that was abruptly cut short, leaving her heartbroken and longing for what could have been.  

Even after meeting her fiancée and allowing herself to move on, her thoughts wandered back to Hongjoong often. But it was never intentional. She'd hear his songs on the radio, overhear teenagers at the coffee shop she worked at discussing ATEEZ's latest comeback, posters would be hung up in the music store she walked past on her way to work, and her younger sister, who was a toddler when she and Hongjoong met, will ask about him every time she visits her parent’s home.  

She shakes her head, as she gathers the strength to confront her feelings. "I... I'm happy, but not as happy as I used to be," she confesses, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear her. "I was happier when we were together."  

Hongjoong's eyes widen as her confession weighs heavily in the air between them. He takes a step closer, his presence enveloping her in a familiar warmth that she has missed. It's as if time stood still, and they are transported back to when their love was all-consuming.    

Reaching out, he gently places a hand on her arm, offering her a comforting touch. He smiles, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and understanding. “I was happier when I was with you too.”  

It was at that moment the tears began to fall as she finally embraced the truth – she only settled for a good man, because her heart will always belong to Hongjoong. The thought of calling off her engagement crosses her mind. Immediately after, a wave of guilt washes over her.  

"It was supposed to be you," she reminds him. "I was supposed to marry you."  

 "I know," he says, hanging his head in shame. "But I fucked up and now you're marrying someone else."  

"I am," she says trying to sound confident as she lifts her head but still won't look at him, knowing if she did, she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. "It was nice seeing you again."  

Before he can reply, she turns on her heel and starts walking away from the restaurant, unable to go back inside and pretend nothing just happened.  

Y/N enters her parent's home well past midnight, only to find her sister anxiously waiting for her. With a deadly expression, her sister rises from the couch to confront her.   

"Where the hell have you been?" She whispers yells, making sure not to wake their parents and younger sister. “You took off from the restaurant and we couldn’t call you because you left your phone at the restaurant. We’ve been worried sick about you. I only just managed to get mum and dad to go to bed. I promised them I would stay up and wait for you.”  

"I’m," Y/N lowers her head in embarrassment. She intended to message her sister, but upon reaching the park, she realized she had left her phone behind.   

"What's wrong with you? Does it have something to do with Hongjoong? I saw him at the restaurant and wondered if you had seen him too."   

Y/N nods in response. Even after leaving Hongjoong at the restaurant, he continued to occupy her thoughts. The more she thought about him, the more she contemplated calling off the wedding. However, guilt would always creep in, reminding her that she is marrying the man that she’s supposed to marry.  

 "What happened?" her sister asks, her angry expression transforming into one of concern. She’d witnessed the aftermath of Y/N and Hongjoong's breakup, so she knows how heartbroken Y/N was and hoped Hongjoong was just as heartbroken, if not more.  

"Nothing," Y/N lies, brushing past her sister and heading towards her old bedroom. "I'll see you in the morning."   

"But-"  

Y/N cuts her sister off by closing the door, knowing that it wasn't just "nothing".  Y/N had been fine before she left. Her sister was determined to uncover the truth in the morning, one way or another.  

“Oh, sweetie, you look absolutely beautiful,” Y/N’s mother gushes as they stand in the living room, admiring her in the full-length mirror. Y/N just finished getting ready, with her hair and makeup perfectly done.  

Y/N attempts to smile, but it quickly falters. The thought of calling off the wedding haunted her all night, as she struggled to push Hongjoong out of her mind.   

She’s tried to convince herself that she is ready to move on, that her love for Hongjoong is a thing of the past. And for a while, it seemed like she had succeeded. Her fiancée become her everything.  

But, as the wedding day grew nearer, doubts began to creep into her mind. She couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that maybe she hasn't fully let go of her past. When thoughts of Hongjoong resurfaced, she would find herself questioning if she was truly ready to commit her life to someone else.  

It isn't fair to her fiancée, who has done nothing but love and support her. She remembers the way her fiancée's eyes light up when she said yes to marrying him. Calling of the wedding, would be an act of betrayal. But is it a betrayal she’s willing to commit?   

No matter how much time passes, the memories of Hongjoong refuse to fade. From the early mornings spent together before he had to be at the studio to the late nights she’d stay awake just to make sure he went to bed and got a decent amount of sleep, to being his biggest support during his trainee days. They lingered in the deepest corners of her mind, like a constant presence that she couldn’t escape.   

Their relationship had been built on love, trust, understanding, and a shared passion for everything they loved and enjoyed. It was a relationship that evolved into something more meaningful than they ever imagined it would. Despite the challenges they encountered, their commitment to each other never faltered. When he left school to pursue his dreams of becoming an idol, she was there, as his biggest supporter. Likewise, he was there as she pursued her passion in photography, a shared interest they both loved. Every moment they spent together, the good and the bad, left a mark on her heart. After their breakup, she spent so many nights replaying their memories over and over again, wondering where it all went wrong and how they could have fixed it.  

With a heavy heart and tears streaming down her face, she desperately reaches behind her, struggling to find the zipper of her dress so she can take it off.  

 "What's the matter?" Her mom inquires, taken aback by her daughter's behaviour. She noticed her acting strangely throughout the morning, but assumed it was just pre-wedding nerves. Now, she thinks that something more that is troubling her.  

The only word that she can get out is, "Hongjoong."    

"What does Hongjoong have to do with anything?"   

"Please just unzip my dress," Y/N pleads, frustrated with her own failed attempts and her mom's lack of help. "I need to take it off." Her voice grows louder with each word as she becomes more desperate to remove the white garment. Her cries catch the attention of her older sister, who rushes into the room concerned.  

“What’s going on?”  

“I don’t know,” her mom replies, “Something about Hongjoong?”  

At the mention of his name, Y/N collapses to the floor, sobbing. Everything from the past few weeks comes rushing to the surface.   

Her sister kneels beside her, embracing her tightly, doing her best to provide some comfort. It's been a while since she's seen Y/N this distraught. Their mother joins them, wrapping her arms around her two eldest daughters.   

"Tell us what's going on, sweetheart," her mom coos, concern filling her voice. She motions for everyone else to leave the room to give them privacy. The last thing she wants is for Y/N to feel embarrassed when the gossip train, especially her cousin, starts spreading rumours.  

Y/N, through her tears, lets it all out. She tells them about what happened the night before and all the ways she's felt recently. Her sister and mother listen patiently, giving her the room to speak without any interruption. As she finishes telling them everything, a feeling of calmness comes over her.  

Y/N's mother, broke the silence that had fallen over them as they tried to think of something to say. "what are the odds of him showing up like that? You haven’t seen him in three years and last night he just so happened to be at the restaurant you’re at. It's like fate was giving you one last chance to reconsider.”  

Her mother's words seemed to validate everything Y/N was thinking. The encounter with her ex-boyfriend, just hours before she was set to marry another man, felt like more than just a mere coincidence.   

And this wasn’t coming from a place of hate, disappointment or unsupportiveness, on her mother’s behalf. While her parents think that her fiancée is a good and decent man, they had witnessed their her previous relationship, and couldn't help but notice the subtle hints that suggest she is not completely over Hongjoong. When they confronted her about it, she would shrug it off, making it seem like there is nothing to be concerned about. Their advice was not meant to discourage her from moving forward with her fiancée, but rather to ensure that she went into this new relationship with a clear and open heart.  

"You're right," Y/N whispers, her voice barely loud enough for her mom and sister to hear.   

Her mom reaches out and gently squeezes her hand, offering her support. "Sweetheart, sometimes we get so caught up in what we think we should do, that we forget to listen to our own hearts. It's okay to question things and to take a step back to rethink it over. This is your life. You get to choose who to spend it with.”  

Tears form in Y/N's eyes once again, but this time they are tears of relief from having her family’s support. With nothing more to be said, she quickly stands up and rushes to her bedroom, searching for some clothes to change into. Her mother follows behind her and helps her out of the dress. She quickly changes and goes to leave the room but hesitates.  

“What about the wedding?” she asks.  

“Your father and I will handle it,” Her mom assures her. “Now go work it out with Hongjoong and call us later.”  

Her hand still on the doorknob, she hesitates again as her gaze falls on the beautiful engagement ring adorning her finger. With a sigh, she gently slides the ring off her finger, feeling the weight of her decision in her hands.  

Turning towards her mom, she hands her the ring. As she speaks, her words are filled with guilt, "Let him know that he deserves someone who is sure of what she wants and can give him the same love that he has given me. Tell him that I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for him.”  

Her mom nods and takes the ring. She hugs her before going back to the door. Taking a deep breath, she turns the doorknob and leaves the room.  

Arriving at Hongjoong's dorm, she anxiously knocks on the door, hoping he's inside. As the door swings open, her excitement fades seeing Wooyoung standing there. It's not that she doesn’t want to see Wooyoung, she would be thrilled to see all the guys again, she was really hoping it would be Hongjoong that answered the door.  

“Y/N?” Wooyoung asks with a look of disbelief. “I thought you were getting married today,” he continues as he takes her in. She’s standing there in an oversized t-shirt, a pair of denim shorts, her hair a mess and her make up smudged from the all the crying and then trying to fix it. A look of empathy crosses his face. “Are you okay?”  

“Is uh… is Hongjoong here?” She asks as her, her anxiousness growing but the second.   

He nods looking back towards the inside of the dorm, “I’ll go get him for you. Did you want to come in?”  

She shakes her head, “I’ll stay here.”  

He nods again and leaves, leaving the door open, to get Hongjoong.  

A minute or so later, Hongjoong arrives at the door, the same look of surprise on his face as last night. “Shouldn’t you be getting married right now?”  

Shaking her head, “I couldn’t marry him, not when the man I want to spend the rest of my life with is right here, in front of me.”  

“But after everything that happened, you should hate me.”  

“You weren’t the only one who fucked up, Hongjoong,” she says, her voice filled with sincerity. “Leaving you instead of fighting for you, is the biggest regret of my life. We could have worked it out but instead we let each other go. But I haven’t been able to let you go. You’re always in my mind, in my dreams and everywhere I go. Seeing you last night, made me realize that you’re the still the one who I can see myself spending the rest of my life with.”  

Hongjoong's surprised expression slowly transforms into a mixture of hope and uncertainty. He takes a step closer, closing the door behind him so they could talk without the other guys being nosy. His eyes search hers for any sign of doubt.   

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice filled with a vulnerability he often doesn’t express. She reaches out and gently takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.   

"I’ve never been more sure," she replies, her voice steady. "I love you, Hongjoong, and I want to be with you."   

A wave of relief washes over Hongjoong, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I couldn't let you go either. And I never stopped loving you."   

They stand there, eyes locked together, and fingers entwined. Their past mistakes and the uncertainty of their future hangs in the air, but they both willing to fight for their love.   

"Let’s start over," he finally says, with a new sense of determination.    

A single tear of joy escapes her eye. Without hesitation, he reaches out, and lightly brushes away the tear. With his hand cupping her face, he leans in closer, his lips planting to hers in a soft and lingering kiss.   

As they part, a smile spreads across his face, showing the happiness he's feeling right now. Seeing him smile, causes her to smile, her own happiness mirroring his.  

 "What's the bet the guys have are up against the door trying to listen in, right now," he chuckles, knowing his group members well enough to know they will be.   

 "I wouldn't past them," she agrees just as there is a loud shout from Wooyoung telling someone off for standing on his hand.  

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, “I’m not ready to share you with them yet,” he adds earning another shout from Wooyoung and groan from the others before the door swings open and arguing ensues.  

Y/N and Hongjoong, quietly sneak away, wanting to be alone for a little while longer as they talk and get to know each other again. 

Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. 

©️ 2024 CRAZYFORMFICS. NO ONE HAS PERMISSION TO COPY, TRANSLATE AND/OR REPOST MY WORKS ON HERE OR ANY OTHER SITE.

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent

[sp00kymulderr]

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+. Sickly sweet fluff, unspoken love, kissing, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Dieter wakes up to you.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to banner maker.

It’s early. Too early to fathom. The breezy white curtains of the hotel room are thin and through them shines just a slither of dawn light. There’s the beginnings of the cheeping of birds outside of the window - left open to peter out the stuffy air in the room from last night. It had been hot, so hot, he’d cracked a window open just to cool the burning skin a little. It hadn’t helped.

Dieter raises his head from where it is buried between the pillow and your shoulder and groans softly, his eyes squinting and his head banging as soon as he lifts it just a little.

“D…” he hears you murmur when you feel him stir and it’s enough to make him drop his head and bury his face down against your neck and shoulder. His scruff tickles and his breath is hot. You make a little noise of annoyance that’s so damn cute to him and Dieter smiles against your skin but doesn’t move.

For a while he is still and closes his eyes again, just breathing you in. You smell of sex, of him, and fuck if he’s going to be able to fall asleep again when he realises that. He feels his stomach tighten in arousal and kisses your neck lightly. You mutter something unintelligible again and roll away from him on to your side.

“Too early” you finally say gently, dozy and sweet and perfect.

Dieter grumbles slightly but doesn’t push it. Instead he moves on to his back and stares up at the ceiling when he slowly opens his eyes.

God, his head hurts. Last night had been a whirlwind; it had started with booze, and ended with the hottest sex of his life. The middle was murky but he knew for sure that it had been something sensational, like every moment with you.

He listens to your soft breath as you sleep and that sweet noise calms him to no end. You’re so fucking beautiful it makes him ache. The words don’t get to be said out loud, but Dieter knows his heart beats faster for you and your touch. His jittery brain jumbles words like ‘like’ and ‘want’ and ‘love’ and ‘soulmate’ in ways that he thinks might scare you off, so they’re kept secret in his never-quiet mind.

There’s a lot between the two of you but it’s always been kind of foggy; a random hookup at a boring after party that turned into occasional booty calls and eventually whatever this is - monthly check-ins to a hotel in the nearest location you could meet for uninterrupted weekends of euphoria. 

And it is euphoric. Sure he’s been dramatic once or twice, but there’s no exaggeration in that thought as he ponders last night and what he can remember of it. His eyes squint as the blurry memory becomes a little clearer in his head; you bent over the useless little hotel desk; that would explain all the stationary on the floor. Him on his knees between your spread legs for so long; which he supposes is why they ache now. There’s wine stains on the table, the bottle knocked over in the eager moment of finding the bed between molten hot kisses. Starlit memories flit in deep purple plumes through his cloudy mind; your warm body on his, your pretty lips pressing against his throat, the drag of teeth and tongue against his burning skin. 

He smiles at the flickering memory. You enticing him all angelic on the pristine white bed sheets that now lay bunched around you and partially hanging off the bed. Your face half-pressed against those sheets when he’d had you from behind. Yeah, he remembered that. You practically drooling onto the bedding as he turned you into a beautiful mess. His favourite masterpiece. But you’d had your payback on him not long after, the torturously slow roll of your hips - your hands grasping hard enough to mark as you leaned back and rode him slowly til he was near tears.

There are wet towels on the hotel room floor. He thinks for a moment, hand absentmindedly reaching down to where he feels himself twitching with the memory. Yeah, there had been a shower after that…an attempt to cool down and calm down, but it had ended in another untamed encounter - you held up against the cool tiles of the shower wall, legs wrapped around him, desperate and aching until he made you cry in pleasure. No wonder his back hurts today, but it all seems worth it at the memory of your face as he’d made you come again.

He feels unstoppable with you.

Dieter looks down at you now, your peacefully sleeping form making the sweetest little noises in your slumber. God, he feels privileged to get this view of you. It’s better than anything; no awards or good script or large sum of money compares to the thrill of you. He’d throw every single damn trophy away as a way to show you how much you meant. You'd just laugh at that though, you would give him that brilliant smile, and tell him he was an idiot. He couldn’t argue on that.

He blinks his eyes awake a little more and turns on to his side, facing you. He can never fight the urge to be close to you. He doesn’t get enough time with you. It’s never been talked about but he ponders on the future as the orange glow of sunlight starts to flood through the gaps in the curtains. 

He has to touch you, it’s like he’s scared he’ll forget what you feel like if he goes too long. Your warm skin makes that familiar yet unspeakable feeling flutter in him. Dieter’s fingers run a gentle line from your shoulder and down your side, tracing the curves your body has. He is enraptured. Has been since the first moment. It probably isn’t healthy, all things considered.

All things considered. He’s not in the position to have a real relationship - flitting from spot to spot, taking job after job, like he has something to prove in his career. He does. Besides, you’d never made a mention of making things more. 

Not a mention, but there were moments in your kiss that he felt things were already at that more. Whatever that meant.

Even if it isn’t a relationship you take it seriously, every moment with him. You take him seriously and god it’s like a breath of fresh air after all the people in his past who wanted him for reasons that were not him. You listen, you care, you want to hear about his thoughts and ideas and his art, not just gossip and get wasted and use him as some show of status. Whatever this thing is, it isn’t just some silly fling for either of you. It’s special, it’s important. Always had been, always will be. He’d like to keep this thing going forever, he’d never let it end. 

Lost in his thoughts, Dieter doesn’t notice you stir until your entrancing voice mumbles out.

“Daydreaming, pretty boy?” 

He turns to look and gives you a lopsided smile. Your hair is a mess and there’s smudged mascara under your eyes. Still gorgeous. Always gorgeous, he thinks.

It's like the breath comes back to him fresh and full as he sees you half-awake and there with him. You're mesmerizing when you're sleeping by his side, tucked up in your dream world, but you're dazzling when you're awake and real and there with him. Sometimes the glassy flit of his gaze upon you makes him feel like he's high, just off your presence. No one’s ever done that before.

"Daydreaming..." he sighs, leaning down to nuzzle tenderly against your cheek and give you a gentle kiss now that you're hopefully more receptive to it. 

"Yeah? About me?" You ask with that cute smile that had first enticed him, the one that tells a whole story of who you are.

"You..." he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then to your temple, "Last night..." he adds in a lazy low hum, his lips landing back on yours with something that is far more precious than either of you can give word to.

"Last night" You sigh, stretching your tired and still achy body, noticing his eager glance as the sheet pulls down over the swell of your breasts.

He sees a bite mark left on you from him and gives a groan, half hard and fully wanting, but too tired to act on it.

"C'mere" you mumble, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling him down fully. His head lands softly to rest on your chest facing away from your head, and the tickle of his breath on your skin makes you sigh. He gives a happy huff as he watches your nipples harden against his warm breath.

"Had fun last night, baby" You tell him, gentle, as your fingers trail up the nape of his neck and through his untamed hair. He moans a little as you massage very slowly against his scalp with the tips of your fingers.

The touch of his hand on your stomach makes you shiver pleasantly, and he rests it on your lower belly with no intention of taking it anywhere else right now. Just skin-on-skin. 

Just you and him.

Dieter is happy like this. Cared for. Made for you, in ways. He's molded to you, to the feeling of you with him. It doesn't happen enough. You linger on his skin for weeks on end and yet Dieter never has enough of you. He wanders through his life from point to point waiting for his next dose. He's alive when with you. Resting in between.

"What if we stay another day?" He mutters, unmoving as your fingertips stay sweetly pressing on his scalp.

"Baby...we both have work to go back to. You know I can't do more than a weekend" You tell him, but he knows you well enough now to note the hesitancy in your voice when you deny him.

"Fuck 'em" Dieter says with resolution "We can be sick. Laid up in bed. We can spend the whole day like this, then it’s hardly a lie. I’ll get that desert from room service, your favourite"

Your hum of contemplation is soft against his ear, a melody that eases the headache from the excitement of last night.

"The one with the cherries?" You ask, and he doesn't even need to look at you to know there's that pretty little smile on your lips again.

He turns anyway, kissing the tops of your breasts goodbye before he sits up and faces you again. He feels the sparkle of hope bubble in him. One more day this time…maybe next time he can convince you to stay at his place. Stay for a week.

Stay forever.

“The one with the cherries” He repeats, swiping his thumb over your cheek to remove the smudge of makeup there. 

You grin and nod and Dieter’s heart does a little stutter. Another day with you, that’s all he could want.

“Okay. One more day” It’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said, in his ears. Plays like a symphony.

Dieter doesn’t answer with words, expression breaking out into a bright smile - not the one he shows on red carpets but the real one - the one that’s a little lopsided, a little dopey. The one that’s just for you, now.

He lays back down beside you and kisses sweet and familiar against your neck. Your skin tastes like sweat and him as he trails down between the valley of your breasts, a subtle nip of teeth right next to that mark he left last night. His movements are slow, lazy, loving.

A tapestry of adoration laid against your skin as he listens to your slow breath above him.

"Dieter" You whine quiet, tugging on his hair just slightly. 

He travels back up with lips and tongue desperate to taste every peak and dip of you. Kisses your chin and then nibbles it with his teeth before you’re pushing him to how you want him.

He smiles at your insistence to move him, pushing him back onto his side of the bed and directing him to lie on his side, so you can wrap yourself around him. Protective. Affectionate.

He feels the press of your breasts against his back, as you mold your shape into his, holding him close with that familiar feeling of your hand over his heart. It beats surprisingly slowly, he's suddenly hit with the weariness of an early morning after a late night, of too much of everything but never enough of it.

The kiss you leave between his shoulder blades before you nuzzle your head there makes him sigh out loud, something happy and breathy and true.

"Another day. Just one more" You tell him again, eyelashes fluttering against his skin and it makes him want to cry, just a little when your breath gets soft again as you hold him like you want to keep him safe from everything.

One day there'll be more than just another day. You know it, it's in the way you tenderly lay yourself against him with arms wrapped tight like you'll never let go. He knows it, it's in the way his breath comes easy only when he has you by his side.

He's yours. Given to you, his own heart. Dieter doesn't think the words even need to be said, just felt. Just like this.

[munsonsreputation]

everything in between

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [6.2K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, difficulties dealing with drunk-ness (steve), brief talk about anxiety, all around fluff

summary: you and steve are both new to this relationship thing, unsure if this will finally be the one — but it's already clear to everybody else that you two are perfect for each other and everything in between. based off "in between" by gracie abrams.

It’s everything new and fresh, yet frightening between you and Steve.

The way that you both had found yourselves here without knowing if what was happening was right for either of you. If the decision to finally act upon feelings was going to be the end of broken hearts and tearful nights and replace them with mended tapestries and starry eyes.

For the both of you, it seems scary, giving love another chance after the horrible paths that you two had previously been on, but it seems like everyone else already knows that you’re both walking hand in hand on Lover’s Lane.

Something hopeful connecting you two together and bringing you both where you needed to be — becoming everything in between.

Robin likes to tease Steve in the beginning stages of your relationship. Poking fun at him for the way he has always been irrevocably whipped and enamored by you even before he had finally asked you out.

He tries to play it cool like his persona, but deep down she knows it’s all just an act and he puts up so that it doesn’t seem like he’s moving too fast.

Her feet rest comfortably in his lap as they pass around the popcorn bowl, enjoying the new tape they had smuggled from Family Video. Not that they cared, since Keith never noticed. The couch seems a lot bigger without the rest of their friends there to hog it, but Steve still doesn’t mind the less than pedicured toes in his lap because it’s his best friend.

There’s a ring that comes from the house phone which is mounted to the wall on the other side of the room catching her attention quicker than the feeling of her legs getting pushed off his thighs as he rushes to answer it.

“Hey!”

It’s sick, honestly down right repulsive by the way he never lets the phone ring for more than a second or two when he knows it you on the other line. And she knows, he knows that it’s you calling because he just feels it in his bones — even when it could be one of the kids prank calling at this late hour; he knows that it’s you.

“Hi Stevie!”

She can practically hear you bubbling on the other side of the receiver and she swears Steve smiles a little harder just at the sound of your voice.

She doesn’t hear you ask how movie night is going, too busy with stuffing her mouth with popcorn entertained with the way Steve is leaning against the wall and acting like a total school girl over the fact that you called.

He only makes eye contact with her for a split second before he’s wiping the smile off his face to the best of his ability seeing the way his best friend is smirking like an idiot over the way he’s acting.

“Y-yeah, it’s great! Just some boring movie about spaceships and aliens — Oh, yeah, Robin’s just eating all the popcorn right now. She doesn’t mind.”

Steve shakes his head, not wanting to hang up the phone so soon. If he could, he’d talk to you for the whole night and he’s pretty sure Robin wouldn’t mind at all because it’d be way more entertaining than the forgotten movie on the tv.

“Tell her I said hi and I can’t wait to see her tomorrow!” You say enthusiastically and Steve does everything but groan, knowing that this will probably lead to some sort of teasing that from Robin’s end.

He pulled the phone away from his ear, holding it out in the air towards Robin as he speaks, “She says hi and she can’t wait til tomorrow.”

She chews, a smile still splaying on her face as she swallows and licks the crumbs off her lips before shouting out loud enough for you to hear.

“Hiya sunshine! Miss you bunches, but not more than your lover boooyyy!” She singsongs with a cackle erupting as soon as Steve snatches the phone back to his ear.

Your own laughter overlaps Robin’s, and it silences the embarrassment that Steve’s feeling because the last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s moving too fast. But for you, he’s moving at the right speed, the speed that has you throwing your hands in the air with butterflies filling your stomach in all the right ways.

“Ignore her. She’s trying to be funny.” Steve tries to quip, yet you’re still giggling, and it’s the kind that makes his cheeks heat up because he knows you’re blushing and smiling like a maniac.

He wishes he were there to see it for himself, the way you’d try to hide your face behind your hands because of how hard you were smiling and how he’d have to plead for you to put them down just so he could catch a glimpse and save that mental picture in his head forever.

Your voice is laced with sweetness as your giggles die down and only a second or two of silence comes before you speak.

“Don’t leave Robs hanging and go watch your movie…I’ll call in the morning, lover boy.”

He sure as hell doesn’t let the first ring even finish before he picks up the next morning and Robin is quite pleased because it doesn’t wake her up.

Steve’s house always seems to be the gathering place for get together’s, mostly because his parents are always gone and partly because the amount of room there is to roam around. And while there isn’t always alcohol at the functions because of the presence of the sneaky kids, when there is Nancy can always smell the anxiety in the air.

For her she knows that a piece of Steve is still mortified from the Halloween party a few years back which ended with spiked punch spilt all over her, a dramatic drunken argument, and the end of her and Steve.

She lives with that regret wishing she had been sober so she could’ve at least let him down easy and even after she had apologized she still knows that it haunts him, especially because she can see his face fall when she brings him a very intoxicated you.

“Woah, woah, hey,”

She guides you into his arms, watching the way he’s already grabbing at your shoulders and lifting your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. She sticks around, not knowing if she’ll need to help if you fall backwards in his living room. You definitely seem and look wasted, droopy eyes staring into Steve’s as you try your best to stand up straight.

“She might have had too many drinks.” Nance winces, looking back at the kitchen where empty solo cups are scattered over the kitchen table.

Steve breathes in, nodding his head and working your arm over his shoulders to keep you upright, “thanks, I’m gonna bring her to the bathroom to clean up.”

She nods, nibbling back a comment about how he shouldn’t bring you to the same upstairs bathroom that he had brought her in. It would be too much for him to handle this kind of situation again in the same place where she had broken his heart, but she knows you aren’t going to do that to him.

He proceeds, doing most of the holding up and walking, guiding you slowly up the stairs and down the hall to his bathroom where all your stuff is stored in your very a drawer he had cleared out just for you.

“Let’s sit, yeah?” Steve mutters quietly, closing the toilet lid and sitting you down on it.

He’s unsure of what to do, seeing as though you haven’t even spoken a word since Nancy brought you to him. Yet he knows you can hear him. The way your sluggish eyes stay on his let him know that you’re still aware that he’s here with you, he just doesn’t know what you’re thinking.

What is about to come out of your mouth when you finally begin speaking?

If it’ll be something that’s going to tear his heart apart and begin to make his eyes prickle. If he’ll have to beg you to not walk out because you’re not thinking straight. If this was all his love was ever going to amount to and end like this.

“S-staring,” You hiccup, your shoulders jerking

He furrows his brows, kneeling on the floor and squeezing your knee lovingly.

“Huh? What was that?”

You swallow back another hiccup, rubbing your fingers over your eyes, smudging your mascara, unknowingly.

“I said y-you’re staring.”

Steve watches when you pull your hands away, black pigment covering your finger tips though you don’t seem to notice or feel the slight sting of the product getting in your eyes.

Despite it all, a smile tugs up at the corner of your lips as you reach forward and wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, wanting to be close to his touch. You’re slouching into him, resting your forehead against his as he does his best to not laugh at the mess around your eyes.

“I was staring because you look like you had a lot to drink,” he says, smoothing your stay hairs behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

You close your eyes blissfully, taking him with you as you lean back slightly and reel in the feeling of his gentle touch.

“I think I had three…no four! cups of gin and tonic.” You mention, not bothering to open your eyes to catch his bemused look.

“Hmm, I believe it, sweetheart. Why don’t we take off your makeup then get you some water and a snack downstairs before bed?” He proposed met with your eyes opening and your head nodding.

He guides you towards the sink as you do your best to keep yourself upright against the counter as he swipes the damp makeup wipe over your face paying extra attention to the delicate skin around your eyes as he tries to get most of the mascara smudge off.

He knows which bottle is your face wash because he’s watched you do it a million times over at your place and he picked up a bottle to stay at his for when you spent the night. It’s like muscle memory for him even if this is the first time he’s doing it for you and he hopes it isn’t the last because it’s calming him down in a weird way.

What he had thought was going to be an explosive fight in his bathroom all over again was just you smiling and humming as his fingers glided over your face, happy that it was him taking care of you. Apparently you seem to enjoy it just as much, giggling as he smears the moisturizer over your face and rubbing it into your skin.

The task alone seems to wake you up enough that you’re beaming and talking a lot more than before.

“My face feels so soft!” You grin, tapping your palms on either side of your cheeks while Steve guides you back down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

Chuckling, Steve hoists you up on the countertops as he rummages through the dishes, finding a clean glass and filling it up with some ice and water.

“Really? You think I did a good job?” He urges as he carefully places the cusp between your lips and tilts it enough for you to sip slowly.

When you push your head forward, he knows you had enough, drawing it away and setting it on the counter. Both of his palms rest on either side, caging you in as your gaze is fixated on his face.

“The best job, ever…kisses?” You ask, playfully puckering your lips towards him.

He knows you mean, “can I kiss you for doing a good job” but he still gets it, flashing you a tender smile.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” He snickers, leaning closer as you hold his face in your hands and smile, “kisses, baby.”

A giddy smile plays on your lips as his lips touch yours. For you it feels just as special as the other’s kisses you two share even if your brain is half buzzing from the alcohol. But for Steve, it’s a wave of relief, one that washes away the cold and empty feeling from the past. All he wants to do is savor the sweetness of your lips and hands, keeping him grounded here with you.

“You’re gonna get me drunk.” Steve jokes against your lips and you giggle, pressing your lips harder against his to shut him up for a moment.

“Is that even possible?” You ask finally pulling away and running your thumbs over his cheekbones.

He shrugs, leaning into your touch, “Maybe, but I don’t mind.”

You grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pointing to the bag of Lay’s that sits unopen.

“Can I have some chips?” you request

“Sure, you can have the whole bag if you want,” He replies, reaching for it and tearing it open.

Steve’s more than happy to oblige, feeding you and offering you occasional sips of water while you both stay in the kitchen totally forgetting about the party around you.

It’s an endearing sight that Nancy can’t help but smile at from her place on the couch. She’s fulfilled with her own love that she shares with Jonathan, the boy who’s resting his head on her shoulder, tracing shapes on the scar in the palm of her hand.

But she’s especially fulfilled with the fact that she and Steve are on better terms now, one where they can be happy for each other now that they’ve found their person. She watches the way both of your faces light up with laugher and smiles even if you’re still a little tipsy. Steve doesn’t look at unease at all. If anything, he’s at peace knowing it’s you and this time, it’s different.

His home has seen plenty of ups and downs, tears and heartbreak, but love had found its way back in and new memories were replacing bad ones. It had been a long time coming and enough waiting around.

She knows you two found each other — the ones who will always care about each other and will always be there for one another.

Steve isn’t sure if you are just trying to be nice or if you genuinely don’t mind that the kids tag along to the places you two go. He knows it’s the latter, but still likes to question it.

The movie at the park seemed like a great idea, at first. It was something different rather than just going to the theaters or watching it on his couch, and to top it all off it was a showing of your favorite movie, “Can’t Buy Me Love.”

But it was a great idea before the kids begged to tag along, promising that they wouldn’t talk during the movie and would even bring their own blankets and money for snacks. Steve tried to oppose the idea, giving the reasoning that it was a date which meant two people: him and you.

But you had shaken him off, telling them that you wouldn’t mind if they wanted to come along and if anything the more the merrier.

And who was Steve to argue?

For once, the kids were really on their best behavior, paying attention to the movie and passing their snacks and drinks around while they watched, but that was before their sugar rush caused them to crash, bringing fatigue to their eyes.

“Poor things,” you pout at the sight of the children sprawled out a few feet in front of you and Steve.

He snorts, seeing their jumbled limbs stretching over each other. You both tried to convince them to space out across the grassy area, but they insisted on being squished together like sardines in order to get to the snacks easily.

“S’okay, they probably needed the nap.”

He rubs your arm, keeping you warm against the chilly night breeze as you settle the back of your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arms across yourself.

“They’re gonna miss the best part.” You say wistfully, slumping into him.

“Honey, you practically spoiled it on the car ride here. I don’t think they’ll miss much.” He badgers as you turned your face into his chest and stifle your giggle there.

Your laugh is infectious, like music to his ears that he’d much rather listen to compared to the static-y audio that plays over the low quality speakers. There’s a kiss he lays on the crown of your head as you turn your sights back to the sleeping teens, hoping they’re not too uncomfortable with the lack of pillows and a comfy mattress on their backs.

“Remember how you said I have a soft spot for these twerps?” You mention serenely.

He hums, resting his chin on the top of your head, “yeah, what about it?”

“You’re right, but I just can’t help it. They’re adorable and I’d let them crash all our dates if you’d let me.”

Steve jokingly scorns, swinging his head against your, “Oh, don’t start, they’d never leave us alone.”

You roll your eyes half heartedly, turning your attention back to the movie. Meanwhile, Steve’s focus is still all on you, wrapping his arms over the front of your body and nuzzling his face between your shoulder blade to give the space beneath your ear a kiss.

“I’m so lucky to have you…even those little shit heads are lucky to have you.” Steve admits out of nowhere.

He can’t resist telling you how much he appreciates you even with a cheesy movie and his annoying children a few feet away. To him, you’re his world no matter what’s in front of him. You maneuver your head enough to look up at him as you swat his chest playfully, trying to brush off his compliment that has you blushing.

“No I mean it,” he insists, leaving another sweet kiss on your skin before cradling your face in his warm hands.

“You’re so beautiful and kind. You don’t ever get annoyed at the kids for crashing our dates. You don’t get annoyed at me for getting annoyed at them.”

You hide your cheek in your shoulder, wrapping your fingers over his wrists where he still holds you.

“Yeah, well, you’re not too bad yourself.” You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah?” He smirks with a curious glint in his words as you nod, “care to share?”

“Believe it or not, you’re so patient. I’ve never seen a guy handle teenage kids as effortlessly as you do. You’re so hardworking and even when you’re tired you give me all your time in the world. You’re generous and—”

He can’t resist interrupting mostly because if you keep talking he’s sure he’s going to permanently etch the world’s biggest smile on his face forever.

“Alright, alright, I get it, babe. I’m like the whole package and the best boyfriend ever.” He gloats jokingly, pulling your face closer to his in order to connect to your lips.

“Yeah you dork, you really are.” You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him deeper into you.

The movie is now long forgotten by you and Steve, too infatuated and caught up in each other to care about the corny love story that plays. You know that yours is better than any movie out there even your favorite one — you and Steve top them all.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kids hear every single word you and Steve had uttered to each other thinking that they were asleep. For them, they know every word is true, the two of you always bragging about how special the other half is when they aren’t around — the fact that you two say it without reservation when you think no ones around to hear makes it clearer that you two are meant to be.

By the time the movie is over, you’re softly shaking the kids awake and Steve’s folding up the blankets.

“It’s already over?” Lucas yawns stretching his arms up dramatically.

“We missed it?” El says disappointedly going the extra mile by rubbing the ‘sleep’ out of her eyes.

You hum sympathetically, nodding your head, “You guys dozed off, but you didn’t miss much. Ronald and Cindy live happily ever after in the end.”

“Just like every other cheese rom-com.” Dustin sighs standing up and brushing the grass off his clothing.

Max rolls her eyes, lending out a hand toward El and helping her up, “that’s the whole point of rom-coms, idiot. They’re supposed to be cheesy and have some stereotypical trope. It’s more entertaining than realistic.”

You smirk, picking out a shard of grass from her red hair, “You’re right, because real romance is totally different. More special, you know.”

The kids don’t miss the way you look back at Steve and hold your hand out for him to take as you all begin walking towards the parking lot ready to load into Steve’s car and commence a night full of drop offs.

“Oh trust us, we know.” Will hailed out with a knowing smile.

They watch as Steve presses a kiss to your cheek, opening the passenger door and letting you in before everyone else.

“Ugh, they make me so sick,” muttered Mike with feigned annoyance, secretly happy that he got to sit in the trunk far away from you and Steve’s sappiness.

As far as everyone else was concerned, the movie in the park was a hit. It was totally worth it seeing the best love story play out — they just didn’t know they were the exclusive viewers.

Joyce and Hopper finally tied the knot in a very small and intimate ceremony in their backyard. Steve had brought you around for the first time, though Hop and Joyce were pretty much familiar with you already, hearing so many good things from Steve.

He appreciated how they instantly welcomed you in, hugging you and thanking you for the small gift you had brought along to celebrate their special day. The two of you sat on the picnic benches, hands held underneath the table as you watched the pair share their first dance as husband and wife.

Half-way through, you had leaned into him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he promptly leaned into you, cushioning you snugly as you watched with adoring eyes.

“They look so in love.” You spoke faintly, looking up at him through your lashes with a grin on your face.

He glances down at you, pecking at your lips and nodding, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hop dance.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head as you held back your laughter, “I guess love really does its thing.”

“It does.” He smiles, kissing your temple as the music dies down to something more upbeat and alive.

“C’mon, people, get up here and dance!” Joyce whistles, gesturing everyone over though everybody seems to hesitate for a moment.

But not Steve.

“Wanna dance?” He smirks, squeezing your hand as you lift your head.

You nod, looking up at him while he stands holding his hand out for you, which you gladly take without a second thought.

“I should warn you, your toes might get stepped on. I’m not the greatest at dancing.” He confesses kissing your head as you giggle and shake your head.

“I won’t mind, long as you’re the one carrying me off the dance floor by the end of it.” You say giving his hand a squeeze.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He promises.

The two of you seamlessly sway back and forth, your arms draped over his neck and his wrapped tightly around your waist. You guys don’t seem to notice or care that you’re the only other couple on the dance floor — too much in your own world.

There are whispers and smiles that you and Steve share as you both loosen up to the music. His hand guiding you into a spin that makes you giggle and fall back into his chest, looking up at him dizzily.

While the dance floor isn’t anything special, just freshly trimmed grass underneath your foot, it feels like holy ground. A scared, special, one of the kind place that the both of you feel so safe in that it doesn’t matter if everyone else is watching.

“How long until you think they’ll get married?” Hop asks his wife, leading her to the picnic tables to catch a quick break.

She snickers, pinching his arm fondly, “Won’t be surprised if they ask the officiant to stay a little longer.”

They’ve got a front row view to a sight that reminds them of their own love. The younger versions of themselves that wished they had gotten together soon, but they’re more than happy for the both of you, clapping and cheering as Steve dips you low and presses a kiss to your lips.

You two can feel the fireworks, their plans to extinguish never dare to exist. It’s just you and Steve, the holy ground beneath you, and the sparks flying.

Hangouts don’t feel the same when you’re not there, for Steve especially it feels like a missing piece that he’s thinking and worrying about even if you’re just working a night shift. He knows he’ll get to see you bright and early the next morning — will probably even call out of work just so he can be your human pillow while you caught up on sleep.

He tries not to think so hard about it, focusing on Eddie’s high score that he’s trying to beat on the Nintendo while Dustin breathes down his neck and the others watch the television screen.

“Mom! Phoneeeeeee!” Mike yells as the landline begins to ring.

It nearly throws Steve off and by this point he feels like he should just give up because he doesn’t stand a chance beating Eddie’s score. Yet he still tries to focus, thumbs nudging the joysticks and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, almost drawing blood by how hard he’s trying.

The basement door swing open, Mrs. Wheeler covering the receiver with her palm as she speaks loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Steve, it’s your girlfriend.”

Only then does the controller drop from his hands like it doesn’t matter. His legs spring up, quickly looking up the stairs to give Karen a smile before she nods and closes the door.

“Dude, you almost had it!”

Dustin groans tugging at his curly roots, realizing he now owed Mike and Lucas $20 for the stupid bet. Eddie slaps the top of his head gingerly, urging them to be quiet as they all zero in on Steve picking up the phone.

“Baby?” He says hurriedly with a confused glint to his voice.

He can hear your sniffles and a small cough leaving your mouth on the other end. Worry and anxiety fill his veins on instance. Something is telling him that there’s something wrong, and he’s proven right when you finally reply weakly.

“H-hey, how’s game night?” You try your best to keep it together, to not let him know you’re holding back tears.

His foot comes tapping on the ground and his body begins to shake not knowing what’s going on.

“Y-you’re crying? What’s the matter, sweetheart? Did something happen? Where are you?”

Steve’s spitting out questions faster than you can answer and the others who are listening can only grow more concerned knowing that the Steve their seeing on the phone isn’t his sappy lovey self.

You swallow, sniffling again, “I’m okay, babe. I—I just needed to hear your voice.”

His heart aches hearing the obvious sadness in your voice that you’re trying to mask, but all it does is cause more worry. You’ve cried to Steve a hand full of times and each time it still breaks his heart, but it hurts even more that you’re far away and he’s not able to see you face to face.

“You’re scaring me. I’m gonna come there and get you.” He offers immediately, patting his pockets checking if he has his car keys which he doesn’t have.

“No, no, it’s fine, I called because I quit…I quit my job.” You explain with a heavy sigh.

There’s silence for only a quick moment, a breath of relief coming from Steve knowing that you aren’t in danger, but he’s prompt to offer to come and get you again.

“Oh…baby, I-I’m sorry. Did you want me to come there and pick you up? Eddie could drive your car back home and we’ll take my car together?”

He’s speaking gently, peering over his shoulder at Eddie who is already nodding and standing up ready to go wherever you are, knowing that Steve needs to know you’re safe.

You take a shaky breath, collecting yourself before speaking, “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine to drive…it’s just that I needed to hear your voice before I got into the car. Just a long night, I’m sorry for worrying yo—”

Steve shakes his head, waving his hand over towards Eddie, telling him that it’s okay and he can sit back down before mouthing a “thank you” before turning back to the call.

“Hey, no stop, don’t apologize. I’m right here okay? Not gonna hang up until you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you as soon as you’re ready to hang up okay?”

You don’t try to hide it anymore, letting your sniffles and sobs loose. Every second that passes by is tugging on his heart strings wanting to do nothing more than to rush wherever you are, but he knows you’re going to be fine, you just need some more time with him.

“O—okay, just had a really long night. I was trying to just get through my shift but, I…I just couldn’t do it.”

You sound pissed off at yourself, irritated that you couldn’t make it through the night shift. But he knew it was for good reason if it made you up and quit — he didn’t blame you and he was far from mad.

“And that’s perfectly fine, sweetheart. Whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out alright? We can look through the newspaper for job offerings and I can take you to drop off resumes. It’s all gonna be okay, ok?”

“Okay,” you whisper faintly, swiping away at your tears and nose.

He knows it’s important that you calm down before you get behind the wheel. If you don’t, he’ll drive down there himself, not wanting to risk you driving when you’re feeling like this.

“I’m right here with you, baby. Deep breath, in and out. That’s good, babe.” He guides you through it, hearing your shaky breaths slowly easing.

Steve doesn’t have to turn his head to know the worry etched on his friends’ faces is apparent. They’re anxiously waiting, wondering what’s going on, only being able to hear parts of it through Steve’s tender words that he offers you.

They know they all have a habit of teasing him and poking fun at the way he’s whipped over you, but this is a different side of him that they rarely get to witness. The vulnerable side that only comes out when he’s with you even with the distance that’s keeping you both apart.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon, alright, baby? Drive safely.” He speaks, nodding his head to himself before he places the receiver back on the stand and turns to face his friends.

“Is she okay?” Eddie asks worriedly as Steve nods and brushes a hand through his hair.

“She had a tough night and quit. She’s heading her now.” Steve reveals and everyone nods before Robin stands up and pats him on the back.

“C’mon, let’s go wait for her upstairs.”

The gang had migrated from the basement to the living room, awaiting your arrival. They had tried to do everything to reassure Steve, to get him to sit down and wait patiently, but they weren’t surprised that he didn’t budge and instead kept his place by the window, watching the driveway.

Everyone has their eyes on the clock, watching the minutes pass by and glancing every so often when headlights pass the street, thinking that it’s you.

The worried expression doesn’t leave his face until he finally sees two headlights turn into the driveway.

“She’s here,” Steve says under his breath, not wasting a moment to dash out the front door, slamming it behind him.

He’s at the driver’s side before you can even put the car into park. His fingers wrap around the door, pulling it open as you don’t hesitate to get out and wrap your arms around him, hiding your teary face in his neck as you melt into his embrace.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” He says quietly, keeping one of his hands on the back of your head while the other rubs comforting circles on your back.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and he can feel the tears springing from your eyes, trailing across his skin. The feeling burns him in every kind of way that tears his heart apart slowly. How he wishes he can take the weight of what you’re feeling off your shoulders and instead he can carry it for you. But all he can do right now is hold you, brush his hard over your head and pull you as close as he can get you, and whisper words of comfort, hoping it will take the pain away.

“I—I really needed you. I just kept thinking of how badly I wanted to run into your arms when I walked out of there. They made me feel so stupid and useless and I—”

He shushes you smoothly, shaking his head and tearing you away from his neck so you can see him.

“Screw them, baby. We can write a complaint or something because you don’t deserve to get treated like that, alright?” His voice is firm full of determination not showing you how angry he is at your boss or co-workers for letting this escalate.

Your palms come up to your eyes, rubbing them as your voice breaks. “I know, but I just feel so d-dumb—”

He shakes his head, tugging gently at your wrists to stop you from hiding, “Hey stop, don’t say that. You don’t know how much you mean to me and how much I hate when I hear you say those things about yourself.”

You sniffle, smiling at him apologetically, “Sorry, I know…I—I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you called and I’m happier to know you’re okay. I was scared shitless.” He grimaces, grazing his sights over every inch of your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say softly, “I was just planning on showing up here, but I guess everything was just building and building and when I finally quit and walked out of there I felt like I was going to collapse and I just needed you.”

His heart swells with love and admiration, for a minute it replaces the worry and anguish. It’s stupid because he shouldn’t be smiling as wide as he is right now with tears prickling his eyes in the best way possible.

You’ve never held back on telling him how much you cared and appreciated him for being the best boyfriend in the world…but to be needed is a whole different level that he’s new to. One that mends his heart of all the traumas and has him holding your face in his hands while he blinks the tears down his cheeks as you watch.

You’re confused, brows pinching together as you swipe your thumbs across his cheeks and wonder what he’s thinking and smiling about. It’s only when he speaks that you understand what’s happening.

“I love you, you know that?” His voice quivers, teeters on the edge of fear and letting go.

Your jaw trembles, new tears falling down your cheeks, this time in a happy way that has you forgetting about the horrible shift you had just endured.

None of that matters when you’re standing in the arms of the man who’s telling you that he loves you.

You’re laughing through the tears, feelings the comfort and safety in his embrace, “Y-yeah?” you ask stupidly, as if he could ever change his mind.

He nods, laughing weakly,“Yeah…like a lot. I love you so much and I’m always gonna be here…not gonna go anywhere. Right here whenever you need me.”

“I love you too, Stevie.” You cooed, standing up on your tiptoes and kissing him with every ounce of your being.

Your lips move in synchronicity, the familiarity of each other never building contempt, instead making you both stronger. It’s a feeling that will never get old and that neither of you would get tired of experiencing. Even at your worse, you know it’ll always be okay as long as you have him to keep you tethered.

Time freezes for everyone, not just you and Steve — your friends watching in the window and smiling at the scene before them.

They’ve always known that you and him were in love since the moment you two said hello. It’s just that now, it feels a lot nicer being able to witness the moment you two finally realize it. The love you share and everything in between.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like this little something something i wrote based off "in between" by gracie abrams. i absolutely love this song and it's so underrated (ITS UNREALEASED KINDA LOL). anyways, let me know what you think!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again. 

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 4

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.5k

Part 3 ←→ Part 5

Masterlist

You’re awoken to the bright island sun shining in your eyes. You can tell your hungover by the way it aches through your whole body. You don’t panic until you realize the open curtains aren’t the same shade as your own. You didn’t go home last night. Frantically sitting up you find your red dress has been abandoned by your bra on the ground. When you look down you find you’re wearing Rafe’s undershirt and the black spandex you had worn under your dress last night. The material is stretched tightly over your chest and the idea of Rafe seeing you like this sends you in a panic. Your eyes flick beside you to see the boys bare back as he sleeps peacefully on the pillow. He’s so perfect but you don’t have time to care as you free yourself of the covers and move to change back into your dress.

You don’t realize the movement has woken Rafe but he stays quiet because right in front of him you’re grabbing at the ends of his shirt and lifting it from your head. It takes everything not to make a noise as your breasts are freed from the fabric. He wants to give you privacy, he really does, but he can’t turn away. Not with the way your nipples harden in the cool room air. So he swallows and watches as you grab your bra and try to confine yourself once again. It’s when you have your dress pulled back up your torso he closes his eyes and prays you didn’t notice him watching. The last thing he would need is that kind of humiliation and you being upset with him for perving on you.

“Shit, my phone” he heard you starting to shuffle through things in the room, more than likely in search of his own pants that he had carried your phone and ID in all night.

“Everything okay?” his deep morning voice makes you freeze, parts of your body tingling just from those two words.

“Your pants, I need my phone. Mila is probably freaking out” you tell him as calmly as you can, having absolutely no idea what kind of wreck you look like at the moment.

“By the door I think, I don’t know. A lot of things are blurry about last night” he rolls over and his bare torso now being revealed to sober you has your knees going week. You have to get out of here. He watches as you dive towards the door, finding the grey slacks and digging deep into the pockets and finding your phone. He doesn’t miss the way you double check your ID is still stuck in your case before checking the notifications. You sat there perfectly on your knees and he wishes more than anything last night had ended with you just like that in front of him.

“God she’s pissed” you say to no one in particular as you glance at the mountain of messages on your phone.

Mila 💜

“What, not common for you to partake in a one night stand?” the glare you send his way is enough to shut him up.

“Look, I’m just gonna grab an uber and make sure she didn’t send out a search party for me” you tell him and Rafe pouts at the mention of you leaving. You don’t have time to care as you shoot a text back to Mila

Mila 💜

When you roll your eyes at the message on your phone Rafe finds himself wanting to know exactly what it said. Before he can ask you’re standing up and walking to the bathroom, flicking the lights on and gasping at your reflection in the mirror. The pool water had run your makeup under your eyes and your lipstick was smeared for what you hope was other reasons than kissing Rafe. As you try wash your face as best you can with the water and hotel soap you try to recollect everything that happened last night. You remember Levi, AJ, going drink for drink with Rafe, the swimming in the pool, but everything else was extremely blurry.

“Don’t get an uber, I’ll give you a ride” Rafe says and you sigh but allow him to anyway. He collects his own clothing from around the room, placing it all back on as best he could without looking like he had a last minute hookup. It didn’t matter, you’d both look crazy walking out of here.

You join him after only a moment, tying your hair on top of your head with the elastic band you had on your wrist. By no means do you look as perfect as last night but this would just have to do. Rafe smiles softly at you, collecting his phone, wallet, and keys from the nightstand. “Ready?”

“Sure” you say as you head towards the door and Rafe is right behind you when you swing it open. Just your luck the door across the hall from your own swings open to reveal a still perfect looking AJ followed by Levi doing the buttons to his own shirt from last night. “Great”

“Morning” Levi grins at you both and it takes everything for you to not roll your eyes.

“I’m going to the car” you tell Rafe and he nods as you do your best to escape this awkward encounter, heels dangling from your hands.

“What happened? She couldn’t finish or you?” Levi teases and Rafe knows he’s meaning Rafe couldn’t finish due to you being unattractive which isn’t true. He had practically finished last night just lightly grinding on you in the pool but since you didn’t seem to remember he wasn’t going to be one to bring it up.

“Shut the fuck up Levi” Rafe says before spotting AJ who looks embarrassed to even be caught with the exact man in particular. “Don’t forget work place romances are highly discouraged”

“I’ll have the report on your desk Monday” AJ gets out meekly and Rafe gives them both a stern look before stomping down the hallway and after his own girl who had been humiliated one too many times this morning.

He finds you in the lobby, waiting for him to join you, and based on the sad look you wear on your face he officially feels bad. Lacing his fingers through your own he gives the softest smile he can muster as you look at him with ready eyes that are a mix of humiliation and hangover. “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, I just want to get home” you tell him and he nods as he leads you both to the door. The walk to his truck isn’t long and thankfully the ride to your apartment isn’t either. When he puts the car in park he see’s you staring at the windows inside. That’s where he see’s Mila with a slightly annoyed expression but not tearing her eyes from either of you.

“She’s watching” he says and you chuckle, turning to look back at him.

“She’s mad I scared her but she told me she wouldn’t be if it meant I hooked up with you” you tell him and Rafe chuckles before taking another glance at the brunette girl who watched you both in the window.

“We better give her a reason not to be mad then” he says and you swallow the nerves away as he leans over, hand curling around you neck, the tips of his fingers sliding through your hair. When his lips meet your own you sigh into it and allow him to kiss you like a boy should kiss a girl. It’s when his tongue slips inside your mouth you squeak in surprise and it has Rafe grinning against your mouth. After curling his tongue with your own he breaks free, that signature smirk back on your face.

“I’ll see you” you tell him and he nods like it’s already a confirmation for tomorrow or even later.

“Bye” he grins because you look like a girl who was just kissed dizzy and he was proud to be the one to do that. When your outside of the car and looking back at your apartment you’re met with Mila still looking out the window but instead of an annoyed expression she wears a proud one because she just watched you get kissed and get kissed good. So you ascent on the walk of shame but you still wear a smile because you’re pretty sure you’ve never quite been kissed like that.

“So that is why you didn’t come home last night” she smirks the minute you’re through the door and you’re rolling your eyes as you drop your shoes next to the others on the ground.

“I can talk about this once I’ve showered, brushed my teeth, and have had the greasiest breakfast possible” you tell her and she laughs, seeing the hangover, and slight hickey on your neck that you truly have no idea about.

“I’ll work on breakfast while you shower but then you have to give me all the juicy details” she says and you agree but only because a shower sounds like actual heaven on earth. So you pour yourself a large glass of water that accompanies you to the bathroom where you can start the road to recovery.

It’s only thirty minutes later you’re sitting in the kitchen, now fresh and clean, damp hair hanging over your shoulders as you devour the pancakes and bacon Mila had whipped up. While finishing your third glass of water. After finally getting a better look at yourself in the mirror you decided it’s safe to not drink so much in front of Rafe again, especially since most of the night still hadn’t come back to you yet. You didn’t even recall leaving the pool and going to the hotel room. “I’m still waiting”

“I’m recovering” you tell the girl but you know you can’t hold out on her for much longer so you sigh and drop your fork. “I spent the night with him”

“And?” she urges on and you shake your head, grabbing a napkin to wipe the syrup from around your mouth.

“We went to his work event, had one too many drinks, we couldn’t drive, so we decided to get a room. I wanted to swim so we went to the pool, and then we went to the room and slept” the pointed look she gives you says she doesn’t believe that was all that happened and you knew you’d have to give her something other than sleeping and swimming.

“Fine, we made out in the pool and things got a little heated. So we went back to the room and he touched me, I touched him, we didn’t go all the way, and then we slept” it’s a lie, majority of it. You just need to give her something so she wouldn’t be so on top of things.

“How big is he?” the question has you almost spluttering your water out of your mouth and she giggles at the deep blush you wear on your cheeks from this whole conversation. Yet the sentence does flash the memory of those tight black boxers he wore and exactly how big the package underneath looked, and that was soft.

“Big, I don’t know. I didn’t measure” she giggles like a girl who was just given the best gossip of her life and you can only smile at your one true best friend. The amount of boyfriends she goes through in a month is five times the amount you do in a year but nonetheless you two still loved each other.

“Gosh, I have no idea what has gotten into you” she tells you with a grin and the deep red blush you wear makes her smile somehow even wider.

“I have no idea what you mean” you tell her but you do. You’re not the kind of girl who has sleepovers with boys, especially after a week. You’re also not the kind of girl to even date all that often. You usually assume the worst of most men and the ones you do let get close you never let this close. Rafe had his tongue down your throat almost an hour ago and Mila had watched. You were different and both of you knew it.

“Yeah you do, you’re finally allowing yourself to be loved. I’m so happy for you” and this breaks your heart because if only she knew it was fake. That you and Rafe were just friend with some strange agreement between the two of you. “Did he see you naked?”

This is a loaded question. One you know she asks because whatever your answer is tells her everything she needs to know about how much you trust him. You still wouldn’t undress in front of her so if Rafe had seen you, in your purest and most vulnerable form she would know it’s real. At least real for you. “Topless, I’m not quite ready for that”

“That’s good, it’s a start” she says with a nod and you wish it wasn’t a lie. That Rafe really had seen you topless and you were okay with it. Okay with him seeing the stretch marks under your breasts and the small rolls under each arm. You may have a large chest but that comes with big girl territory. Not the kind of big chest a boy wants to see. Hence why you could never let Rafe see because the idea of you disgusting him would break your heart. Boy how you are wrong.

“I guess” you tell her and she smiles as she pours herself another cup of coffee.

“Well I better get ready for work, wouldn’t want my boss to fire me” she winks at you and the roll of your eyes has her giggling as she retreats down the hallway and into her room. It’s then your phone dings and takes away your attention.

Rafe

Your stomach flutters at the sentiment and you wished so badly it was a romantic gesture. Yet you knew it was only because you two had become close. Had shared personal things with the other because what you were doing revealed the most vulnerable sides of you. You can’t fake date someone you don’t trust. To bad trust for you meant falling in love.

Rafe

You were so screwed.

a/n: for some reason some of my tags won’t link your accounts, if you spot I have something spelled wrong and that’s why it’s not tagging you, please let me know!

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Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[crow-raven-crow]

hey there :)

could you write a smut story/one shot where the reader doesn’t get of on penetration and feels bad for it, like she always tried for herself but it never worked.She’s still a virgin thought and when larissa and her sleep together for the first time she tries to ignore that it doesn’t work but larissa notices.

comfort,a lot of smut and fluff

thank you 🤍

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐈𝐭, 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧ Larissa Weems x f!reader words: ~2.6k

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: nsfw: dom Larissa, sub reader, virgin reader, first time, strap on, finger stimulation, oral sex, marking, biting, thigh riding, forced eye contact, edging, slight overstimulation, praise kink, slight dumbification

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see ask above

masterlist

AO3 link in title

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✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: what a good little excuse to write more smut LOL

this, again, is newer territory for me… though, I found out recently, that I can blast smut out so fast because it’s so fun for me to write for some reason. This gets pretty smutty, as you can see in the content LMAO. It’s nice to have another request that I don’t think is touched on all too much, so thank you for the opportunity to write it ;)

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The night had run cold as the two of you settled in bed for the night. The candles that were lit around the room casted the dark wood in a golden glow, throwing warmth along the dark walls and the white curtains, swaying slightly with the breeze of the room.

Larissa had planned a night in for the both of you, a beautiful dinner was plated as you walked into her private quarters, a bottle of your favorite wine shared between you two, a movie throwing color after color along the sheets that covered you both as you retired to bed for the night, a movie that had long since been forgotten.

Your clothes were thrown throughout the room, garments forgotten and to be an issue for later. The heavy breaths from both of you were heard in the dim light, small breaks to give you both the air you needed, though.. you learned to push your limits, being addicted to the soft, pink, lipstick-less lips that found their way back to your own.

Her fingertips ran along the smooth expanse of your body, exploring every inch that had yet to be known to her. You cupped her face in your hands as she pulled your body closer, shifting you on your back as she settled between your legs.

You let out a whimper, breaking the kiss, at the feeling of the prosthetic bulge that sat between her legs. She pressed further, the cool material of the strap meeting your hot, wet core, landing against your sensitive bud as you let out a moan at the contact.

"You're doing so well for me, darling~" She purred into your ear, her hot breath sending a shiver down your body. "It'll hurt for only a moment, my sweet girl.. Take your time to adjust and tell me when to move, hmm?"

She littered your face and neck with kisses, her lips meeting your skin in reassurance, care and love.. She pushed into your entrance slowly, every inch providing you with a small mix of pain and pleasure.. Your hands were at her shoulders and, as she pushed in deeper, the red lines you created along her skin dug deeper, eliciting a hiss from the woman until the hilt finally met your core..

After a few moments, you nodded at her, allowing her to move. She let your lack of verbal response slide for now, knowing it was your first time together.

This was the part that made you nervous. Though it was your first time, there were times when you were by yourself and tried to cum with penetration, only to be led to failure and sexual frustration. Surely, she wouldn't notice.. right?

Her hips moved, pushing your body slightly up each time your hips met. You used an arm to cover your face, small whimpers coming from your throat as your hold on her shoulder weakened. You took in a deep breath, your brows furrowing..

Then all actions stopped..

Your eyes fluttered open to meet deep, blue concerned ones. She moved a hand to gently reveal your face to her, your arm resting on the side of your head. She pulled out slowly, enough not to hurt you, before tossing the strap-on to the side..

"You.. don't enjoy that, do you..?" She asked, running her thumb along your cheek softly. Your face flushed at her words, a look of utter shock taking over your features as you brought a hand to hers. She grabbed along your waist and shifted, lifting you onto her lap while she sat up against the dark bed frame.

"My love.." She started, her gaze holding nothing but love and compassion for you, as though you were a goddess, pulling planets and entire oceans alike just by existing, as though your body was a temple she worshipped, touching delicately as though you'd crack under a touch too harsh..

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, pure curiosity in her tone. Your chest flooded with embarrassment and guilt.. You knew she'd understand, you knew that from the beginning.. Nothing could get past Larissa. She could see through you in the blink of an eye, could see through the smallest of movements, the tiniest of actions and know the true thoughts you held behind them. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

"I-I.. I didn't.. want to disappoint you.." You averted your gaze, feeling fully exposed and vulnerable to the woman in front of you. She traced her fingertips along your sides, sending a shiver through your body. She brought a hand up to your chin, moving your gaze back to her piercing blues, settling all your nerves with just her eyes alone..

"My darling girl.." You brought a hand up to capture hers, her tone running soft and full of care. "You could never disappoint me with this.. I want you to feel love and pleasure and nothing less. I want you to tell me if I'm doing otherwise, understood?"

There was a bit more sternness in her tone as she ended, immediately pulling a nod of your head and a small 'yes' out of you. Your heart swelled for your lover, appreciating the kindness and patience she gave you time and time again.

"Plus.." she started again, breaking the small silence as seduction dripped from her voice, shifting you onto her thigh. "There's more to it, my love~ Let me show you just how much more I can give you…"

Her hot breath ran down your neck as she licked a stripe down from your ear and to your pulse point. She bit down on the junction where your neck and shoulder met, her tongue soothing over the small marks as her hands moved up to trace over the sensitive buds along your chest.

You arched your back into her touch, a broken moan being released from you as her plump lips met your neck again, leaving mark after mark along the canvas of skin you provided her. She moved her hands to your waist, fingers sprawled along the expanse of your sides as her thumbs traced along the underside of your ribs.

Her lips moved down and down.. eventually taking a bud into her hot mouth. The moan you let out was loud and unsolicited, projecting itself out of your throat as the pleasure coursed through your veins. She gave the other bud the same amount of attention, feeling how wet you were getting against her thigh from this amount of stimulation alone..

You felt her lips curl up on your skin as she continued to pull small whimpers and moans from your mouth, savoring the sounds as though they were music to her ears. She found it absolutely delicious at how responsive you were to her ministrations.

She flexed her thigh slightly as she pushed you down against it a little more, the action causing warmth to flood to your lower abdomen as a wave of pleasure shot through you.

"F-Fuck- Riss.." You moaned out, grinding your hips against her thigh, seeking more from the woman. Months of wanting her, of thinking of this moment alone, didn't compare to the real thing - you were intoxicated on what she was giving you, every move, every touch, every lick making you crave her more..

"Is this still okay, sweet girl?" The way she kept checking in made you feel undeniably safe - it warmed your heart and you loved it.

"Plea- please I want more yes-" You were cut off as another loud moan rippled from your throat causing you to throw your head back in absolute pleasure. Her movements quickened as her mouth found purchase on your chest again, leaving more marks along your skin to show everyone exactly who you belonged to..

A feeling erupted in your abdomen, building itself higher and higher, something you chased as sinful moans were pulled from you. Your brows furrowed as your eyes fluttered shut, your hands moving to grab her shoulders as your body slipped over the edge.

Your body shuddered into hers, moans and whimpers leaving your lips as your slick covered the expanse of her thigh. Her movements slowed after helping you ride out your high, kisses moving up your neck and capturing your lips in a slow kiss.

"You did so well for me, darling.." She spoke in between kisses, almost dreading the seconds that her lips were detached from yours. "Do you think you could do one more for me?"

Her tone was so sweet, so intriguing, so lustful.. how could you refuse when you ended up feeling this good, when *she* made you feel this good..

"I expect an answer when I'm speaking to you, my love.." Her finger ran through your slit, pressing down on your throbbing clit, giving you no chance to catch your breath. She started circling the sensitive bud with her fingers, your body attempting to retract itself, betraying every want, every need, every thing you wanted to take from the woman. You nodded quickly, curious as to what else she could do to tip you right back over that edge.

"Word, my darling girl.. I need words from you.." She added another finger to her ministrations, pressing down with more pressure. The knot that was once there was building itself back up again, quicker than before.

"Yes! Yes- please I'll be good, I promise," your voice dripped in heat as you spoke to her, everything else fading away, every thought slipped from your mind, and the only focus you had left was being pushed towards the goddess in front of you.

Her movements grew faster, dipping down slightly to collect more of your juices before coming back up and circling your clit over and over. You arched into her as moans tore through you. She clearly knew what she was doing as a dangerously lustful flame spun through your body.

Just as pleasure was about to consume you, her actions stopped and her fingers pulled away, a loud wine leaving your lips, soon getting covered up by the lips you oh so adored.

She pulled her fingers up, holding your chin in one hand and forcing you to hold her gaze as she ran her tongue along them, groaning at the taste of you like it was the best thing she'd ever had.

"A pretty little thing like you needs to learn a lesson every once and a while.." You couldn't tear your gaze away from her even if you wanted to. Her hold on your chin grew stronger, but your eyes steadied on her tongue and fingers as the undeniable urge to capture them overwhelmed you.

She seemed to notice this, pressing the fingers against your bottom lips as a dominant "suck" left her chest. You gladly took them, swirling your tongue around them as the unfamiliar taste of your own slick filled your mouth. You looked at her while you did so, watching her pupils turn black with unadulterated lust before you released them with a small 'pop.'

"Good girl.." The words came like a rumble, coursing under your skin as another wave of arousal shot through you along with it. She shifted you onto your back once more, leaving a trail of kisses and dark marks down your body until she finally met your core.

"Let me hear just how good I make you feel, love.." You were going to respond, the words you thought of got stuck in your throat, lost on the tip of you tongue as a delicious cry of pleasure took its place as her tongue ran through your slit. You fisted the sheets beneath you as she took hold of your thighs, locking your movements in place as her tongue met your oh so sensitive clit. Moans and whimpers fell freely from your lips, your hips bucking in response to the pleasure she was giving you.

"Oh my darling girl.. does someone want more?" She asked in a teasing tone, already knowing the answer at the reaction you gave when her words vibrated through your body.

"Please please Riss gods please-" The begging seemed to help you move forward, she always loved getting you desperate and needy for her. Her lips attached themselves onto your clit, your back arching as she sucked on the sensitive bud.

Her eyes roamed your body, the buds on your chest in stiff peaks as your lungs rose and fell with every breath, your knuckles white while you gripped the sheets, too focused on your own pleasure to feel the small crescent marks making a new home on the palms of your hands. It was addicting and spurred her on. "Look at me, dove.."

And you did. Pools of blue met yours as your brows furrowed, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as a flood of warmth captured you, feeling completely exposed under her gaze.

Every sound she pulled from you was far from your mind, only focusing on the pleasure she was making you feel as everything started to become sensitive all over again. Your thighs squirmed on either side of her head, a clear sign that your climax was coming and fast approaching.

"Cum for me, darling.." was all you heard as pure bliss took over your entire being. You body shuddered and rocked with the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you, screaming out your loves name before rushing to catch your breath.

She licked up everything you gave her, every ounce dropping on her tongue like ambrosia. She lined small kisses up your slit, your stomach and chest, before kissing along your jaw and capturing her lips in yours.

Her tongue danced along with yours, a moan coming from the both of you as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath and come down from your bliss filled state. You felt a cool cloth touch your core when she came back, a whimper leaving your lips at the contrast of warmth the rest of your body felt. You opened your eyes as a gentle touch moved a strand of hair out of your face.

Larissa looked at you with nothing but love, her lips curled into a soft smile as her fingers traced behind your ear and down your neck. You took the opportunity to kiss the palm of her hand, your eyes closing as you sunk into the warm touch.

With a dip in the bed, she was right back next to you, capturing you in her protective hold as you buried yourself in the crook of her neck, the realization of what just happened and the emotions that came along with it all hitting you at once. You pulled her close, needed to feel every inch of her as you recovered from each overwhelming emotion.

"Shh, my darling.. I got you.." She cooed quietly. She rubbed her hands along your back, warming you up under the covers she pulled over the both of you. As your breathing evened out, she took the chance to pull your gaze to hers. You pulled her in, kissing her lips in the softest, sweetest kiss you could muster.

"Thank you.." You whispered against them. A small laugh left her, the two of you moving slightly as it rumbled out of her chest.

"There is nothing you should be thanking me for, my love.. Though, if it makes you feel better, of course.. I'd do it all over to see you react under my touch again.." A blush filled your features at her words, small kisses from your lover lining your forehead. "You did amazing, sweet girl.."

So you cuddled into her touch, the candles that were once lit burnt out by their wax, a smokiness filling the room slightly as the credits rolled up the screen from the movie that was since long forgotten..

~~

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𝐚/𝐧: LMAO HEY UH PFF sorry i don't really know how to open up after all of THAT..

i'm getting here, i swear. theres definately some things i want to work on when it comes to writing smut, but i'm glad that you guys enjoyed the last one and that you, anon, wanted me to write more of it

i hope this satisfied the ask ! it was, again, a fun one to write for me.

if you haven't checked it out already, my next series is being posted right now ! i absolutely love writing it, even though it's just so full of angst (sorry Evey) but it's a series if thats something you're interested in ! ill link the series page here

it was a nice, long weekend for me due to the holiday so i got to do a lot more writing than normal which was so fucking fun. but school is still here and it back on so i'll keep everyone updated on my schedule if anything changes.. i should probably put it on my masterlist page ngl.. (edit:i did)

but yeah! anon, thank you sm for the ask ! sorry it took a bit longer than the other ones i received but it's here !

if you weren't successfully tagged on this, please look at this post that I made regarding the possibility as to why it didn't work

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧

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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@eveymay @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @s-c-rambledegggs @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute

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