#does that mean we wouldn’t click well?
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I am a Virgo but I absolutely love how bubbly and sometimes goofy you are 😍😍😍🙏😘
Ok ok ok why did you say ‘but’ though
#like educate me pls#in the astrology world#does that mean we wouldn’t click well?#I remember growing up and I would read a bunch of different tumblrs dedicated to astrology#and I would read ones about Gemini and I would be like broooOoOoOOoOoOOOOOo that’s so true!!!!!!#and then I would see what signs click best with geminis#and sometimes I would see my crushes signs#and I’d be like I KNEW IT#if only this bitch ass would notice me#anyway thank you so much babe#i think bubbly is such a cute compliment#like yes I AM bubbly! thanks!!!!#🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰#ask#anon
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BURNER ACCOUNTS — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fem! reader, loser ex-boyfriend! satoru, exes to lovers, college! au, satoru making burners to watch your stories, miscommunications—satoru is not perfect but he’s trying okay?, gossip icons shoko & suguru <3, i had a silly idea and it turned into 2.6k words my bad
there’s a peculiar account watching your instagram stories—@user273582838, to be exact. you don’t think it’s a very well timed coincidence seeing as you and satoru have just broken up—so you decide to do some digging.
which of course, means enlisting the help of shoko.
“i think satoru is stalking me,” you mumble, making her pause in the middle of sipping on her energy drink—for a med student, her habits don’t seem every healthy. this is her third one of the day.
“okay,” she nods, “i wouldn’t put it past him, but what makes you say that?”
“look,” you turn your phone to face her, the blank, anonymous instagram account right there on the list of users who have viewed your story. she crinkles her brows, blinking for a moment before humming.
“that definitely seems like something he’d do,” she nods—and then, “i have an idea.”
“okay,” you brighten, nodding enthusiastically, “what’s the plan?”
“try and log in with that user.”
“shoko,” you look at her like she’s grown two heads. maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to her—no amount of energy drinks can save her at this point. “we don’t have the password—”
“—and that, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, making you scowl at the name, “is why we click forgot my password and see the last four digits of the phone number that registered the account. if it’s satoru’s number, we’ll know.”
okay—you take it back. shoko is a genius and a full-blown brilliant mastermind that you could never hope to come close to. you’re glad you chose her to help—you’re even more glad she agreed because you would not have thought of that. this is fantastic. a fool-proof plan.
you grin wide, eyes lighting up as you gasp, “shoko! you’re so smart, that’s a great idea!”
“i know,” she grumbles, “took you long enough to notice.”
ignoring her, you quickly pull out your phone and try to log onto the account, typing user273582838 into the username box and clicking forgot my password. shoko is hovering over your shoulder, and your breath is held as you wait for the page to load and the number to pop up. within just a few seconds, the first few digits are censored with asterisks, but the last four show, and—
yeah. it’s satoru’s fucking number. just as you suspected—you and shoko scoff together at the same time, rolling your eyes.
“well,” you look at her, lips pursed in irritation—of course, satoru refuses to give you space and leave you alone after your break up (which was his fault, might you add), “what now?”
“send the verification code to his number,” she presses, “it’ll definitely spook him when he sees.”
she’s so good at what she does, you think in awe, staring at her with heart-eyes. nodding quickly, you press send code.
hopefully, that’ll give satoru the heart attack you want it to.
———
satoru stares at his screen in abject horror—who could be trying to log into his burner account? the only person who should possibly stumble across it is you, but surely you’re not closely inspecting your story viewers, are you? so then, who could be trying to log onto the instagram account of @user273582838?
“suguru,” he says in a trance, “are you trying to log onto the burner?”
“are you bringing that shit up again?” suguru grumbles, controller in hand as he pays attention to the screen, “i told you that was a stupid idea. a pathetic one too—”
“well, i didn’t want to keep waiting for you to send screenshots to see the stories—”
“you’re a fucking loser, do you know that? pathetic,” suguru reiterates. “move on.”
“no,” satoru hisses in disbelief, “why would i do that? now, was that you or not? you’re the only other person who knows the user.”
“as if i care to log onto your loser burner account,” suguru snorts, shaking his head in amusement. he beats satoru’s high score, turning to give him a sly grin as he adds, “i wasn’t removed, so i can view the stories all i want.”
“you’re a jerk, you know that?” satoru grunts, crossing his arms and pouting, “i’m having the worst heartbreak of my life, and you—”
“who’s fault is it that you’re dumped?”
satoru deflates.
okay, so he supposedly hasn’t been the best boyfriend. it’s not that satoru isn’t helplessly committed to you—he’s so sickeningly obsessed with you, it’s actually a bit unhealthy. suguru says so, at least. but satoru is…well, satoru, and he doesn’t always seem to take things as seriously as most people would hope.
evidently, that includes your relationship—though, he does insist on disagreeing on that. according to you, he doesn’t take you on dates often enough, and sometimes he flirts back with random strangers. that’s not true—he’s simply a bit of a tease and enjoys it when you’re jealous, but he doesn’t flirt back. that’s outrageous. you’ve even claimed he’s mean about it and makes a joke out of it all—satoru would never be mean on purpose; he only teases because the banter is always endearing.
but, unfortunately, you don’t seem to see it the way he does, and now he’s woefully single and cold and alone in bed. no cuddles, no goodnight kisses, and no head scratches.
life is so cruel sometimes.
“suguru,” he says in distress, “i’m serious. someone’s trying to hack my burner—who could it be?”
“hmm, i don’t know…maybe the one and only person who would notice the account in the first place?”
“but why try and log in if the password is unknown?”
suguru looks at satoru like he’s stupid—apparently, he is because he’s not putting two and two together.
“maybe because sending a verification code shows the last four digits of the registered phone number? you’ve probably been caught, you idiot.”
satoru pales at that—he didn’t think about that. it slipped his mind completely. fuck, he should’ve used a burner email instead. he stares down at his phone numbly—yeah, he thinks, he’s screwed.
———
after two days of continuous log in attempts into satoru’s burner account—it’s only just to spook him extra—you finally decide to confront him.
we need to talk. is all you send him.
the three bubbles appear on his end multiple times before disappearing—you and shoko get a good cackle out of that and laugh at him for a bit before he finally answers.
miss me already? knew it ;)
wow. what a dickhead.
so, because you can be equally as much of a prick, you send him a screenshot of his phone number on the log in page followed by a message that says: no. it’s so you can explain this.
the three dots show up again for a few minutes before he finally responds with: okay. you caught me. when do you wanna meet?
well, that was easy. satoru is the type to not go down without a fight no matter how cornered he is—he’s stubborn and annoying like that. you turn to shoko for help.
“meet him now,” shoko crosses her arms, “don’t give him time to come up with some ridiculous excuse.”
“what excuse could he possibly come up with?” you snort, “that he was possessed and the evil spirit in his mind made him stalk his ex like a loser?”
“true,” she concedes, taking a sip from her energy drink—seriously, how many of these does this girl drink in a day? “i just want to know what happens,” she shrugs, “so do it now.”
of course, as on brand as ever, shoko is merely in it for the drama. you roll your eyes before sighing and nodding.
“okay,” you huff.
meet me at my place. now.
on my way, he sends back almost instantly.
“he’s probably just excited to see you,” shoko snorts, “like the loser he is.”
“you’re probably right,” you purse your lips in exasperation. in all your time knowing him, you’ve definitely realized that satoru is definitely…well, a case.
———
“hey,” shoko whispers to suguru through the phone, walking out your door so you can prepare to confront satoru. “did you know satoru’s been stalking—”
“—on a burner account? yeah, i know.”
okay, she frowns to herself, that was no fun at all. suguru is already aware of the drama. but that’s no matter—surely, he can’t possibly already know that satoru has been invited over to be scolded.
“yeah, well,” she says smugly, “did you know he’s actually on his way over to—”
“—get yelled at? yeah, i’m aware. he called me panicked. what a fucking loser.”
“okay, well since you’re up to speed,” shoko grumbles bitterly, rolling her eyes. she was supposed to be the knight in shining armor with the juicy updates—but evidently, satoru is pathetic enough to already cry to suguru about his dilemma. “wanna meet up and get sushi nearby? i bet they’ll get back together in twenty minutes.”
“i bet ten. loser pays for the food?”
“you’ve got yourself a deal.”
———
satoru sits on your couch in shame, bouncing his leg nervously as you sit on the opposite end with your arms crossed and brow raised.
it’s quiet. he doesn’t have the guts to say anything, waiting for you to break the silence. maybe you’re not that mad.
“so,” you start, “it’s nice to finally meet you, user273582838.”
he rubs his neck awkwardly, chuckling through his nerves as he mumbles, “oh, hey there! it’s a small world, huh?”
“satoru.”
yeah, never mind. you seem pretty mad.
“okay, look,” he begins, “you can’t blame me. you dumped me, your sweet, loving, and unsuspecting boyfriend out of nowhere! i was heartbroken and shattered—and then you didn’t even give me a chance to work it out! i was not in the right headspace to make wise decisions so…so this is basically not my fault.”
that doesn’t seem to help his case—in fact, it only makes it worse.
“so it’s my fault?”
“wha—no!” he says quickly, “no, definitely not.”
you sigh, rubbing your forehead in defeat as you mumble, “satoru, we are broken up for a reason. you can’t overstep and—”
“it’s a pretty stupid reason,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and frowning. you glare at him from the side as you scoff in disbelief.
“of course,” you chuckle dryly, “of course you would say that. nothing is ever serious enough to you—”
“it’s pretty fucking serious to me,” he spits, shooting you a look that tells you he’s just as shocked as you, “that’s obviously why i’m the one who’s still not moved on as easily as you. how seriously did you really take it?”
“that’s not fair,” you grit, “you made it abundantly clear you didn’t care enough, so why should i—”
“i fucking cared a shit ton,” he says incredulously, “that’s bullshit, and you know it—”
“don’t curse at me, satoru—”
“well, don’t accuse me of not caring when i clearly—”
“oh, yeah cause you cared so much when you were laughing with that waitress as she hit on you,” you seethe, throwing a pillow from your couch at him. he can catch it easily—you know this for sure, but he lets it hit him out of what you’re sure is at least a little consideration to your feelings.
“i wasn’t laughing because i enjoyed it,” he crinkles his brows as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing ever, “it was just funny because she was trying so hard. and you looked all cute when you got mad.”
“what kind of boyfriend enjoys watching his girlfriend get mad—”
“the kind of boyfriend who thinks his girlfriend is adorable when she’s mad—”
“yeah, well your idea of a date is going to the mall with shoko and suguru. what kind of date is that—”
“okay, i was a bit clueless sometimes, but you could’ve said something instead of just dumping me like i was some random guy in your dm’s—”
“you need to grow the fuck up, satoru—”
“now look at who's cursing!”
it’s silent—both you and him have your arms crossed and lips curled into scowls as you both glare at each other. you’re stubbornly convinced satoru doesn’t care as much as you do, and he’s firmly committed to the idea that you’re twisting him into some douche who doesn’t give two shits.
it’s quiet like that for a bit before he deflates and slumps against the couch, rubbing his face as he groans.
“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry. i never meant to make it seem like i enjoy attention from other girls, and i didn’t realize you wanted more dates. i’d have done things differently if you told me how you felt.”
he sounds sincere. and he’s looking at you with those eyes of his—god, those stupid little eyes that are so wide and blue and deep and full of love. even after that whole argument, satoru is clearly as painfully in love as ever.
you sigh before playing with a loose thread on your sweatpants.
“i…guess i could’ve talked it out first. i probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to breaking up,” you mutter, not meeting his eyes.
satoru stares glumly at you from the corner of his eyes before he adds bitterly, “you don’t seem to miss me. not even a little.”
“toru,” you pinch your nose, “of course i miss you. i was not gonna be mopey on instagram, though—”
“doesn’t seem like it,” he huffs. he’s a bit hurt—you can tell because he’s not meeting your eyes, and he’s not got that playful little upward curl of his lips.
you’re a bit weak, you realize—but you suppose you always have been for satoru, because you’re shuffling to his end of the couch and poking his cheek gently.
“i miss you tons, y’know,” you murmur—you smile a little at his pout before adding, “i want more dates this time around. and stop letting girls get away with being shameless flirts.”
he finally meets your eyes—it’s like a child on christmas, the way his face lights up and his lips curl into an excited grin.
“you mean i get to be your boyfriend again?”
it’s cute—the way he asks to be your boyfriend and not if you’ll be his girlfriend. maybe you’ve been a bit unfair, maybe satoru has always cared deeply in his dumb little clueless way of his own.
“fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes. he looks hopelessly excited as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, tucking you under his chin as he rests his cheek on your head.
“you should really talk to me more,” he murmurs, “i’m…things fly over my head sometimes. i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry too,” you admit, “i’ll talk to you—but you better listen to me if i do. don’t turn it into jokes.”
“i never turn things into jokes,” he grumbles petulantly, huffing to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed raise of your brow. “does this mean i can follow you again?”
“yes,” you snort.
“and you’ll follow back, right?”
“yes, satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head in amusement. he’s already back to being a handful—but you can admit you might have missed it just a bit. “but for the love of god, please delete that burner.”
“fine,” he pouts, tugging you closer.
you giggle, he grins, and then you’re kissing—and everything feels as it should be.
———
“they’re back together,” shoko says in disbelief, staring at your text. suguru groans, pausing mid bite as he rubs over his forehead in defeat.
of course, you and satoru just have to make up in exactly fifteen minutes. not ten. not twenty. exactly fifteen.
how considerate of you both.
“are you kidding?” suguru grumbles, “so neither of us win.”
“guess not,” she says sourly, rolling her eyes.
woefully, they both agree to split the check.
suguru and shoko are so me and my friend every time our other friend argues with her boyfriend we deadass be making bets over when they make up and loser has to pay for boba LMAO
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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how to get to know a dog (and their owner)
pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, an attempt at comedy, strangers to friends to lovers
word count: 5.3k
warnings: reader seems stalkerish at the beginning; i promise it's not that deep please 😭, dog. kkuma is the main character actually/j, mentions of food, choi seungcheol is down bad, lots of giggling, let me know if i miss anything!
author note: hi! this is my first full length fic and i hope you enjoy <3 when i say cheol is down bad, i mean it. i'm not sure if this is actually funny (i have no sense of humour). also, if you’re allergic to dogs i’m so sorry.
(i had to change the headers because it turns out that the original ones were not the choi seungcheol we all love !! a mistake on my part, and pinterest because it told me it was cheol?? anyway, enjoy reading 🫶) - moon
masterlist
i. let me introduce yourself
there’s only one true love in your life.
okay, maybe your favourite food comes close but there is still just one thing at the top of your list. kkuma, the dog that your apartment complex is named after—you don’t blame the owners in doing that. she’s the only reason why you walk faster to make the trek home shorter, and honestly, who wouldn’t love her?
of course, you only watch her from afar. she…doesn’t take well to strangers, even if you have been living at kkuma apartments for almost 3 years now. it’s fine though, as long as you get to see her.
you’re walking home after another long day at work, miserable because you had been scolded earlier, and you hadn’t seen kkuma before you left in the morning, the only thing that gives you motivation that early. you smile at the security guard at the front and he opens the gate to the green building you’ve grown accustomed to.
you dejectedly walk to the lobby entrance with a sigh after scanning your surroundings discreetly, still seeing no sign of kkuma. as you start to place your foot on the first step in front of the glass doors beckoning you inside to the warmth of the lobby, you freeze.
you hear a bark. KKUMA?
you move towards the sound, and find her being taken on a walk. hiding behind some pillars placed in just the right position, you watch kkuma and…the superintendent’s son, you think. you know there’s two, and assume this is the younger one by his pouty lips and how he’s on his phone.
you hear the sound of a phone camera going off, and realize that he’s not idly scrolling on his phone like you assumed but instead taking pictures of the cute coton de tuléar. you approve of him, understanding why he feels the need to click picture after picture. with one hand on her leash, his cheeks puff out as he focuses on getting the right angles—not like kkuma could look bad in any photo.
you giggle quietly, your attention back to kkuma as she turns in a circle and looks up at the phone, posing without being told to. you see the man tense, his dark green beanie slipping down over his eyes and messing up his bangs before he adjusts it. he turns in your direction.
damn it. he must’ve heard you. thankfully, the pillar covers you completely, but you still hear his voice shake as he calls out. “is…is someone there?”
suddenly realizing you could come off as a stalker, you stay silent and try to move away quickly, covering the side of your face with your hand in case he can see anything. however as you take a step away, you almost trip over a small rock jutting out of nowhere—seriously, it was a safety hazard—and squeak, completely caught off guard.
he calls out again, this time smug. “hah, i knew someone was there! just come out so i can see you. i know what you’re here for.”
your eyes light up as you turn. does he know that you want kkuma pictures? slowly making your way away from the pillar that provided you deep moral support earlier, you look at the man sheepishly. looking at him closer, you realize that he would be cute…if he didn’t have an obnoxious smile on his face. kkuma barks, as if she knows what you're thinking, but she only moves to sit down by his legs.
“so…” he drawls out, his arms crossed and the smirk never leaving his face. he clears his throat before you both speak at the same time.
“how’d you know i like kkuma—”
“listen, i know i’m handsome—”
“what?” you say, confused by his words. you don’t even know him. what is he even talking about?
his face falls, eyebrows furrowing together. “wait, so you aren’t admiring me secretly and spying on me because you like me?”
you shake your head at his words. “i’m only here for kkuma.” you stare down at the aforementioned dog and smile. (she’s looking off in the distance and doesn’t seem to care about the conversation you and her owner are having at all.)
“oh.” the owner’s son says, squatting down to pet kkuma with his head facing away from you—he’s trying to hide the flush creeping up his neck, isn’t he?
“well…you seem to really like my kkuma a lot, huh?” he says, reaching for a topic both of you can talk about. you nod sincerely, before bending down to his level to grin at her.
“if i see her when i leave for work or come home, i know it’s guaranteed to be a good day…most of the time. she doesn’t seem to like strangers, so i’ve never tried to approach her,” you say, not noticing the guy’s eyes on you, and the way his face softens.
he turns back to kkuma, petting her soft white fur. “yeah…you’re right about her being wary of others. i’m seungcheol by the way,” he introduces himself shyly, not over the embarrassment he just went through.
ah, you were right then; he’s the youngest son of the choi family who owns the building you were outside of.
you introduce yourself before turning back to kkuma with a sigh. “i should go inside now. i still haven’t eaten dinner.”
seungcheol hums in agreement as you get up from your position on the ground, and dust off any dirt on you. as you turn back towards the lobby, he calls your name out.
you look back at him as he smiles nervously. “you know, if you want to get close to kkuma, you can just be friends with me,” he laughs slightly, scratching the back of his head.
you stare at him. what is he even talking about? you’ve just met this man and what? he wants to be friends with you?
you smile back awkwardly. “um…i’ll think about it. i’ll see you around, seungcheol.”
you turn around, not waiting for him to respond before you hurriedly walk back to the front. truth be told, you thought he was weird. besides, you have enough friends—the nice old lady next door and your friendly coworkers are enough. why add some random person into the mix?
ii. ask very important questions
seungcheol glares at his older brother, who just won their rock paper scissors match. now he has to go tell every single tenant in the building that the in-house laundry machines are broken; a bet is a bet, and he lost.
great.
it’s seven in the morning, and way too early—he stayed up playing games until three am. it doesn’t help that he’s already pouty from yesterday night when you told him that you would “think about” being his friend. why would you need to think? he’s obviously an amazing person, and someone you should become friends with, at least in his opinion. (it is very much just his opinion.)
he huffs, walking down the first hallway on his imaginary list, recalling how his dad had forbidden him from taking kkuma with him; of course he couldn’t even have his sweet girl with him.
after answering the questions of those on the two floors below you, he finally gets to your door (or at least, he thinks it’s yours—he’s not a stalker or anything…unlike you).
he knocks quietly, and you open the door to his face…and immediately close it.
“hey!” you can hear seungcheol protest from the other side but keep the door closed. what was he doing here?? did he already expect an answer from your vague reply to his question yesterday? does he have no life?
you take a deep breath and steel yourself before opening the door more hesitantly, and a smile pasted on your face. “hi, seungcheol! what’s up?”
he stares at you, his arms now crossed. “you slammed the door in my face,” he says bluntly.
you laugh awkwardly before leaning against your doorway, blocking the man’s view of your messy apartment. “i was just…surprised.” you struggle to come up with a word for the panic you felt when you saw him.
he raises an eyebrow before choosing to drop the topic—he has a lot of people to talk to, after all.
seungcheol gestures in the general direction of the laundry room downstairs. “the laundry machines are broken today, so you either have to wait until we can get them fixed—probably tomorrow—or…yeah i don’t know.”
you sigh at his nonchalant words. of course the machines are broken when you have a ton of laundry to wash. noticing your expression, cheol raises an eyebrow. “are you alright?”
you nod, before shaking your head. no, you were not alright. you didn’t have any clean clothes to wear to work tomorrow! thankfully, today was a day off—something about a reward after the extremely stressful project your team had just finished. sure, you could reuse an outfit from last week, but your dirty clothes were scrunched up in a pile all together—it would feel wrong to. instead, you ask seungcheol a question…that would soon lead you to your doom.
“do you know where the nearest coin laundry place is?”
iii. go on laundry adventures
your “doom” is really just seungcheol escorting you to the nearest laundromat.
you pick up all your clothes and put them in a hamper, not caring who sees you in your hoodie and pyjama pants. seungcheol, ever the gentleman, offers to drive you to the place he recommends, and now you’re in the parking lot, wondering how you ended up in this situation. you swore you were going to avoid this weirdo but…here you are, going on an outing with him.
you sigh, before picking up your load and getting out of his expensive car. it’s sleek and clean…and definitely not your style, considering how big it is. seungcheol notices your discomfort, and assumes it’s because of where you’re headed, and not a general lack of excitement of having to do something different than usual.
“you know, the lady who runs this place is really nice! she gives me a ton of candy, and always says i’m like her son. i’m sure she’ll like you too, if that’s what you’re worried about,” seungcheol says, wringing his hands together before opening the doors for you.
you smile at his attempt at comfort as you enter the small place, a small bell alerting the woman at the back that there’s new people. it’s mostly empty, with only a couple of other people there.
you assume it’s the owner that comes up to you both as soon as she registers it’s seungcheol coming in and grins, clasping her hands to her chest. “oh, cheolie, it’s been so long!”
yup, it’s definitely the owner then.
the mentioned man smiles, and turns to you with a look that says “i told you so,” before greeting the woman back with the same level of enthusiasm. “it’s nice to see you, mrs. kim.”
mrs. kim turns to you, her eyebrows raised. “cheolie, are you dating this person? i thought you said you were single!” she smacks seungcheol’s arm slightly, covering her mouth as she laughs.
seungcheol looks at you before back at her in horror—though you swear you can see a tinge of red on his face like yesterday. “n-no! we’re just…friends, that’s all!”
you raise an eyebrow, never agreeing to actually be his friend but the panicked look on his face makes you grin. maybe you’ll humor him, just for a little bit. besides, the disdainful look this auntie was giving you makes you feel like she was going to kick you out if you said anything else.
“yes, cheolie’s right. we’re just friends.”
he sends you a grateful look—wait, did you just call him cheolie?
seungcheol chooses to ignore whatever warmth is building up inside him, and instead pushes you to the nearest free laundry machine, holding onto your shoulders after giving an awkward smile to the owner—this only adds to the slightly uncomfortable feeling in his chest. he drops his hands, putting them in his sweatpant pockets instead to avoid any other weird emotions (it doesn’t work).
attempting to sound natural, he leans against the washer machine before you shoo him to the next one as you open the door and put your dirty clothes in the tub. “so…” he starts. “cheolie?”
you look up at him, closing the door after you’ve checked to make sure everything’s in the right order. “oh. i guessed it would be more natural to call you that if you were my friend, right, seungcheol?” you give him a look before giggling.
seungcheol finds that he wants to hear your laugh more; something vulnerable from your somewhat tough surface. he scrunches his nose. “i would prefer you call me cheol…o-or cheolie, if you’d want to. no one calls me seungcheol unless they’re mad at me.”
you hum a reply, working on putting in detergent and fabric softener in the right places before taking a couple of coins from your wallet for the machine.
“oh!” you look to the side to see seungcheol with one hand pointing at your cherry printed wallet, and the other covering his mouth. “i love cherries! this means that we’re meant to be.” he says grinning, before the words register in his head. “like friends, of course, right? i didn’t mean anything else by it! wait, i don’t mean that like you wouldn’t—” seungcheol cuts himself off in a panic, face now the colour of his favourite fruit. what is he even saying?
you give him a weird look, trying to not embarrass him further by questioning what he means—it doesn’t work; he’s now squatting down on the floor, covering his face but peeking through his fingers to look up at you. “okay…cheol it is then.”
you reach out a hand to help him up from his new position. you can’t believe you’re saying this. at the same time, though, you didn’t expect him to be this…adorable, as much as you hate to admit it. maybe he isn't as bad as you think.
“friends?”
cheol takes your hand.
iv. meet their friends
you ❙
are you stalking me??
kkuma’s dad 🍒 ❙
???!?
you ❙
look up
cheol does what you ask, and flinches as he sees you right in front of him, almost as if you appeared out of nowhere. you laugh, joined by the barista on the other side of the counter in the small coffee shop—his name tag reads joshua.
you stop laughing when cheol doesn’t join in, the man’s eyes still wide open. did you know he was thinking about you or something?
you wave a hand in front of him when he doesn’t respond to you calling his name. “cheolie, you okay?” (neither of the two of you notice joshua’s smirk at the nickname or the sneaky look the deer eyed man gives his co-worker jeonghan, who has a similar expression on his face).
cheol blinks, and opens his mouth before closing it, his coffee left forgotten on the counter beside him. “you…where did you come from?” he finally says after he stares at you for a second.
you point to a building through the tinted window across the road. “that’s where i work! i just came over to try out the coffee here before heading home.”
cheol nods before looking to the side to the barista who had laughed with you earlier. “oh, this is joshua. and that,” he waves a hand towards a worker who’s now taking an order on the other side of the room, “is jeonghan. they run this place together.”
joshua rolls his eyes before holding his hand out to shake yours. once you take his hand and introduce yourself, he smiles sweetly before shooting a look at cheol. “he forgot to mention that we’re his only friends…well, other than you now, right?” he shoots you a wink. you raise an eyebrow, now seeing why him and cheol are close—they’re both a bit overconfident, aren't they? you wouldn’t be surprised if jeonghan’s the same.
your attention back to cheol, you smile at him again. despite agreeing to be friends approximately twenty one days ago (no, he wasn’t counting; why would he count?), he’s still not used to how…nice you are to him. your gaze feels like a warm spotlight on him, and he’s still not sure how he feels about it. all cheol knows is that he smiles back every time.
“i’m gonna head home now. send me pictures if you take kkuma on a walk later, okay?” you say pointedly, starting to turn around until you feel a hand on your arm. “wait!”
you look back to see joshua stifling a laugh at cheol, who looks at you pleadingly, holding you back. “don’t leave me alone with them!” he points at joshua and jeonghan, who had come back while you were talking to make drinks and actually do his job, unlike his coworker.
when you don’t give cheol an answer, he sighs before tightening his grip on your arm. “please…” he starts, running his other hand through his newly permed dark hair. he had texted you the other day, asking for your opinion; you told him the truth: it looked great. he hadn’t responded.
“why don’t i drop you off? i have to pick up kkuma to take her to the river anyway. it’s getting dark, and i would rather you be with me than on the bus.”
you roll your eyes at his concern before pausing. “wait. you’re taking kkuma out for a walk but not inviting me? and here i thought we were friends, choi seungcheol.”
he winces at the use of his full name before putting both his hands up in an effort to appease you. “okay, okay. you can come with us.”
both joshua and jeonghan raise an eyebrow at their best friend’s words and cheol groans, grabbing your hand and pausing to glare at the two of them before stalking off quickly with you behind him. “don’t you dare say anything,” he yells back at them on your way out, leaving the owners of the falling for u cafe giggling.
v. spend more time with them
you step out of cheol’s car with a strange sense of deja vu. the last time you had been in it, you thought it was big and pretentious but now…now you think it suits him, but not in a bad way like at first. huh. maybe kkuma being in the backseat helps.
speaking of kkuma, cheol entrusts you with her leash as he gets his jacket out from the backseat, and takes kkuma out with him in his arms. he ruffles her hair before fixing her bow, making sure it’s still pinning down her bangs, so to speak. he gives her a kiss, and you can’t help but find them adorable; cheol cares so much for her, and it’s obvious in the way he treats her.
cheol looks up at you, drawing kkuma’s attention to you as well. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”
you lift an eyebrow before bluntly speaking. “cheolie. it’s because you just happen to be so good looking.” you wink at him jokingly, giggling when he looks around in panic, hoping no one notices how red he is—thankfully for him, there’s no one around.
kkuma licks him on the cheek, trying to comfort him, and he smiles softly at her before putting her down and grabbing her leash from you—not without pouting and grumbling about how embarrassed he is, of course. after he makes sure that the leash is secure, he gets up, brushing off anything that may have gotten on him before smiling.
as you walk along the riverside, stopping occasionally when kkuma does, you learn more about your new friend. he’s not jobless like you thought he was—he works as a manager at a local finance company, and is taking a little break to use up his days off since they don’t carry forward.
when you ask about kkuma’s name’s origin, he avoids your eyes sheepishly. “i…when we adopted her a few years back, i was obsessed with roasted sweet potatoes and…it just turned into her name ‘cause we couldn’t think of anything else.”
you gape at cheol before hitting his shoulder in horror. “WHAT? you’re lucky that kkuma is a cute name.”
cheol sighs, scratching his head. “yeah, yeah i know. at least i didn’t name her potato, right?” you nod in agreement, realizing it could be much worse.
you shiver when a particularly cool breeze flits by the three of you, jacket a little too thin for how cold it gets this late. the sun had set a while ago, and you decided earlier to head back to the car before it got too dark.
cheol looks at you from the corner of his eye and huffs, looking away before giving you kkuma’s leash. “here.”
he starts to take off his leather jacket, his red and white beanie falling off in the process—you manage to catch it just in time before it hits the ground. cheol grins and puts his jacket on your shoulders, taking his beanie out of your hand before you can protest.
“what—cheol! you’re only wearing a sweater, you’re gonna be so cold!” you glare at him, trying to give him back his jacket. he shrugs in response, putting the beanie on top of your head, covering your vision before he adjusts it.
“you need it more than me. besides,” cheol shows you the inside of his sleeve, “it’s fleece lined!”
“yeah, yeah, whatever you say, cheolie,” you grumble before giving him kkuma’s leash so you can make your way back to the parking lot.
his lips stretch up slightly before he clears his throat. “of course! it’s your cheolie who’s talking after all,” he says, before freezing. huh, he slips up a lot around you, doesn’t he? “i-i mean that like—”
“yeah i know, cheol,” you cut him off by patting his fluffy hair down. “i get what you mean, so don’t worry about it.”
you continue to walk even as he stops, and turn back with a grin. “i’m sure i’m not the only one who can say you’re my cheolie anyway.”
cheol mirrors your expression before he looks to the side and clears his throat again. “well…totally.”
you laugh before leaning down to watch kkuma, hoping she’ll let you pet her (kkuma doesn’t even look at you, instead opting to stare into the distance as if she’s a seasoned sailor.)
cheol stares down at you softly. he doesn’t know why he agreed with you, actually. jeonghan had once called him a similar thing, and both of them had immediately agreed to never think of that incident again, the cringeness being too much to handle. even his own mother hadn’t called him that since he was young…but he always finds himself agreeing with what you say.
vi. giggle it out
cheolie 🍒 ❙
hey wanna walk kkuma with me?
we’re going around the block
you ❙
is that even a question.
of course
i need my daily kkuma intake
cheolie 🍒 ❙
😭😭😭😭
i’ll be in front of the lobby in 5
you get up from your bed, where you had been scrolling on your phone after work. after taking a quick look at yourself in the bathroom, you fix your hair to make sure it’s perfect—wait. you’re just going to walk kkuma; why are you paying so much attention to how you look? you turn on your phone camera, and look at your reddening face.
to tell the truth, you knew why you were making sure you wore the nice pants you rarely take out, and fixing your hair again. the thing you didn’t know though was when you started feeling this way towards cheol, like you had to be your best for him. isn’t he just the apartment owner’s son? the owner of the dog you’ve found yourself loving? you sigh, slapping yourself lightly on the cheek. that’s enough. your phone buzzes, and you catch yourself immediately opening it as fast as you can.
cheolie 🍒 ❙
where are u??
i’m leaving in the next minute
hurry up 😗
you giggle at the emoji before pausing, cursing yourself out in your head. you search around for a jacket to wear—it was late, and cold outside; you aren’t about to risk catching anything—and your eyes settle on cheol’s leather jacket, the one he told you to keep with a wink before blushing last week. you hadn’t worn it, but it was neatly hung on the back of your bedroom door, waiting for you to pick it up, so you do. you pull on his jacket carefully, his cologne surrounding you for a second as you rush out to lock your door, almost forgetting your phone on your bed in the process.
you wave to cheol as you step outside of the lobby, the cold air making you shiver before the warmth of his jacket covers you completely. you nod politely at mingyu—he lives a floor higher than you, and sometimes comes to your door by accident, though his partner is usually there to drag him back to the elevator and get to the right floor. mingyu’s perched on the ground, petting kkuma gently as she barks contently. wow, he’s got kkuma privileges too, huh?
“well, i’ll get going! have fun on your date,” mingyu says, winking as he gets up and walks casually to the front doors, even having the gall to whistle.
you and cheol look at each other before giggling, your cheeks turning the colour of what’s become a fruit dear to you because of the man in front of you. cheol adjusts his grip on kkuma’s leash before walking slowly, making sure you can keep up with him.
you wave at his parents when you pass by them; they’re talking animatedly with the security guard at the front about something, and you hear your name mentioned with cheol’s once you pass them. you turn back to ask them what they’re talking about but stop when you see the trio giggling to themselves. wow, does everyone think you’re dating or something? …not that you seem to mind it like you first thought you would.
cheol clears his throat, and puts a hand around your elbow, urging you to carry on and leave them alone. “so…” he starts, crossing his hands over his chest—huh, haven’t you seen this before? he clears his throat again, looking down at kkuma as she walks gracefully down the sidewalk. “you like my jacket, huh?”
you nod, and peek over at cheol’s expression—he’s grinning to himself, clearing his throat every so often. “yeah, i do. i mean, it’s not just the jacket that i like—” you cut yourself off before you say too much. you feel cheol tense too, and wince. why’d you have to go and ruin this moment?
cheol’s panicking, his mind and heart running laps together. what. does that mean you like him? he knows he’s definitely not good enough for you, that’s for sure. he coughs before looking off into the distance, avoiding your eyes, as if he knows you’re trying to analyze his expression. “you know, i could always give you more. j-jackets, i mean of course.”
you gape at him before schooling your expression to be more neutral, though the colour of your cheeks betray your true feelings. “pfft, you make it sound like we’re dating or something,” you laugh slightly before looking in the opposite direction. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? somehow, you’re making this situation even worse than before.
you sneak a look at cheol again, and stop, realizing he’s completely lost for words. his mouth is opening and closing like a fish, and he’s struggling to say anything. he looks straight at you and starts giggling instead, not knowing what else to do. you giggle with him, realizing how silly this whole situation is.
here you are, giggling with the guy you like, faces brighter than tomatoes.
you stare at each other for a bit before kkuma barks angrily, pulling on her leash as she tries to keep moving forward. remembering you’re supposed to be walking your favourite dog, and not just standing in the middle of the sidewalk and giggling, you take a step forward, cheol by your side.
you walk in silence again, the hysteria wearing off. as you turn to face another street, cheol mutters about how cold it is, and puts his hand in your jacket pocket, looking away and covering his face—his hands don’t stop you from seeing how bright his ears are.
you nod at his words before grabbing his hand in your pocket with yours and squeezing gently. “yup, you’re totally right about that, cheolie.”
sweet silence coats the two of you again, and you clear your throat, looking down at your feet as they step forward. “so…” you mimic cheol’s tone from before. “how many jackets do you really have?”
cheol, flustered now that you’re speaking to him, stumbles on his words. “u-um, i’m not sure,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his other hand over his warm neck.
you squeeze the hand in your pocket once more, before stopping and shrugging. “well…i think you’ll need more, considering you’ll be giving them to me, right?” you look up at him with a grin despite your nonchalant words.
he stares at you as if you handed the world to him. he grins, and suddenly you can’t help but giggle…again. if someone chooses to walk out of the surrounding houses and buildings, they would probably think the two of you are crazy. something must be messed up in your minds to be giggling this late at night in the cold, especially considering the dog with you seems to be in a bad mood.
kkuma barks again, not caring if she ruins your little moment together—even she thinks you’re crazy, and she has to deal with seungcheol everyday. realizing she has to take more active measures, she walks up to the two of you haughtily once more, and taps your shoe with her nose.
this gets the two of you to shut up. only for a moment though, until you scream in joy and hug cheol, your hands out of your pockets and finding their way comfortably around cheol’s back, as if they’re meant to be there.
you’re almost about to cry, being so happy. “kkuma likes me, cheolie!” you scream into his ear, not caring if it hurts him or not—he’s content in your arms, only laughing slightly before pulling away and booping your nose. “i told you she would like you if you became friends with me!” he exclaims with a grin.
you hum in agreement before shrugging out of cheol’s arms softly. “well, maybe friends…” you trail off, looking up at him with a smile. he chuckles before he finishes your sentence, “isn’t enough.” you both grin at each other once more, about to burst into another giggling fit.
the other choi sibling pops his head over the entrance, already yelling. “hey, choi seungcheol! we’re about to close the gates, you’re taking too long to walk kkuma!” he pauses, seeing you two smiling at each other with heart eyes, and rolls his eyes. “oh, finally! hurry up you two lovebirds, it’s late.”
you turn back to cheol, who has a frown on his face. “hm. i don’t really like lovebirds…” he caresses your red cheek gently before chucking again. “what about cherries instead? we can be a pair of cherries.”
you laugh, caught off guard by how corny he’s being before shaking your head. “whatever you say, my cherry. let’s get back inside before your mom comes out and yells at us, hm?” you say, interlocking your fingers with his free hand.
kkuma barks lazily at the two of you from the ground, her goal finally complete.
a/n (again): thank you so much for reading!! let me know what you think hehe i promise i don't bite !! lots of love - moon ♡
bonus drabble: number one
#dokries works#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#svt x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol fluff#seventeen fanfic#choi seungcheol scenarios#choi seungcheol imagines#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol scenarios#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups fanfic#scoups imagines#scoups scenarios
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bsf!jj teaches you how to suck dick
a/n: y'all have been so kind, showing so much love to the rafe blurb and my oc fic, so here's a thought i had after thinking abt some personal experiences (18+ nsfw, mdni)
cw: uhhh kind of manipulative jj but it's hot so it's okay. consent is given enthusiastically, that's all that really matters
“And apparently, Rebecca gave one to Sean,” you complained. “I swear I’m the only girl who’s never done it before.” You turned your head from where you laid on your bed, JJ sitting on the floor beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone.
“No way every girl’s given a blowjob but you,” JJ replied flatly, his attention on ‘his insta models’.
“Feels like it,” you huffed, turning back to look up at your ceiling. “I just don’t want to miss out on vital teenage experiences. What if I wait too long to learn, and then I’m bad at it?”
This made JJ chuckle, and then in the silence after, you hear the click of his phone. “Y’know, y/n, if you really just want the experience… I could teach you.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned your head to look at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Dead serious. I mean, it’s just practice, and who better to practice on then your best friend?”
“Practice…” You mumbled to yourself as your thought it over. JJ scooted closer to the bed.
“Like when we practiced kissing, that wasn’t a big deal, right? And then you won’t be the only girl who hasn’t done it.”
“And you won’t be mad at me if I’m bad at it?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that, I’ll teach you.”
You bit your lip, it sounded enticing. “And it’s not a big deal?”
“Nah, I’m sure friends do this all the time, they just don’t talk about it.”
That made perfect sense to you, whom for a while had lustful thoughts about the blonde, surely everyone wants to fuck their best friends, it only made sense.
“Okay, yeah,” you decided, sitting up. JJ quickly pulled himself up to sit on the bed beside you. “How do we start?”
“Well, you can’t suck my dick if it ain’t hard,” JJ answered.
“Is it hard?”
“I don’t know,” JJ replied, taking your hand in his, leading it to his crotch. “Am I hard, y/n?”
You bit your lip, “A little…”
“You can get me harder than that, c’mon,” JJ encouraged.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you wet your bottom as you tried to recount all you had seen in porn.
“Start by kissing me, y/n,” JJ said softly, already leaning in. You quickly closed the gap between you, you were well practiced on kissing JJ, already knowing how he liked it. You brought your hands to cup his cheeks, pulling him closer. JJ liked when you were needy for him.
“You can touch me,” JJ mumbled between kisses.
“Where?”
“Where do you want to touch me?”
You slid your hand down his chest until it once again was met with his hardening cock. JJ let out a soft moan against your lips before kissing down your neck. You tried to bite back a moan, but it still escaped your throat as you slid you hand down the front of his jeans, rubbing his dick through his boxers.
“Mmm, just like that, y/n, you’re doing so good,” JJ said breathlessly. “Can I see your tits?”
You looked at him with doe eyes, before pulling away to pull your shirt over your head, JJ’s palms immediately cupping you over your bra. “Gorgeous fucking tits.”
“Mmm don’t tease, JJ.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, cupcake. Can I take your bra off?”
You nodded before continuing your strokes, you could feel his dick getting harder and harder, and the thought was making you salivate. JJ’s hands reached behind you and expertly unclasped your bra, helping it slide down your arms before moving to take off his pants.
You took your bottom lip between your teeth as you were met with the sight of JJ’s cock, pale and veiny but with a pretty pink tip, already leaking precum. JJ put his hand in front of your mouth. “Spit,” He commanded, and you obeyed, spitting in the palm of his hand. It was almost pathetic, how JJ could get you to do anything he wanted.
You watched as his hand wrapped around his cock before he stroked it a couple times, spreading your spit over him.
“Okay, now get on your knees, y/n.”
Your body moved automatically, kneeling on the floor in front of where he sat on the bed. “Good girl, now just use your tongue at first, work your way up.”
You looked up at him through your lashes before licking a stripe from his base to his tip, JJ hissing at the feel. “Good, just like that, baby. More.” You did it a few more times before giving his tip a few kitten licks, moans falling from JJ’s lips, and before you could think, you slid his dick in your mouth.
“Fuck, y/n,” JJ breathed out. You kept your eyes on him as you moved your head back in forth, like you had seen girls in porn do.
“That’s it, baby, suck in your cheeks.” You did as you were told.
“You feel so fucking good… hey, wanna know what guys really like?” You nodded the best you could with his cock still in your mouth. “Take me as deep as you can, but go slow, okay?”
You pushed back further until your throat stung, making your eyes water. “Fuck you look so fucking hot, y/n. You can take it, baby, I know you can.” JJ’s praises encourage you, and with each swivel of your head, you tried to take him deeper and deeper. JJ’s hand wrapped in your hair, keeping it out of your face as he watched you. “I’m gonna make you a pro at this, I promise, baby.”
You began to gag around him a bit, so JJ moved your head slower for you. “Breathe through your nose, you got this, just relax that throat, princess, you can take it.”
With your cheeks still hollowed, you brought your tongue to the underside of his length, and you let your nails rake up and down his thighs.
“Fuck, I’m close, keep doing that, y/n, just like that baby. Can I go faster? You can handle it, right?”
You nodded, prepared for it this time, but JJ took that as a yes for him to thrust, making his dick hit the back of your throat, pulling a whine from you, but JJ could only focus on the vibrations on his dick, letting out another moan. You could feel yourself growing wet from pleasuring him, you had forgotten all about your urge for experience, this was about making JJ feel good.
“Fuck!” JJ exclaimed, pulling himself from your mouth. In an instant you were shocked, disappointed even for him to stop. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby.”
You obeyed mindlessly, sticking your tongue out for him, mouth wide as you kept your eyes on him. He began fisting his cock right in front of his face, and you realized what was happening, and you felt electricity buzzing through you, you were making JJ cum.
He let out a few moans, then turned to whimpers before his cum landed on your tongue, some getting on your face.
“You gonna swallow, baby?”
You closed your mouth and swallowed, before using your finger to wipe the stray cum off your face, licking your fingers clean. “You did so fucking good, y/n.”
“Thank you for teaching me, J.”
“Imagine how good you’ll get with a few more practices.”
“Now?” You asked, and JJ chuckled.
“No, not now, baby. Gotta give Junior a rest. But if you want to repay me, you could let me practice eating pussy.”
©outermaybanks 2024
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Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.
Word count: 6.3k.
Warnings: None for this part.
All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.
But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.
Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.
So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.
Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.
“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”
Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”
“Sit.”
The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.
It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”
Cass blinks. “What?”
“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”
“…But Y/N and I…”
“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”
This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.
But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.
“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”
Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.
Something he needs to work on.
And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”
“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”
Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”
“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”
Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.
He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.
“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”
“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”
“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”
Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.
What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.
His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”
Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.
The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”
Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”
“Fuck you, make your own tea—”
“Make me some tea—”
“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”
“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.
It promptly shuts the other two males up.
They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.
“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.
Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.
“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”
“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”
“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”
Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”
Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.
And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.
“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.
Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.
But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.
“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.
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A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.
But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.
And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”
“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”
“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”
Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”
“I never liked her. Nor her father—”
“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”
“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”
Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”
It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.
But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.
Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.
But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”
Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.
“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”
“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”
Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”
“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”
The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”
“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”
“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.
“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”
Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”
Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”
“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”
“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”
“So this is about the tea.”
“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”
Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.
He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.
Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.
And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.
There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.
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The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.
Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.
But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”
And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.
He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.
“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”
This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.
Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.
“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”
“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”
Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.
So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.
“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.
They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”
“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”
Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”
“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”
“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.
Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”
Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”
Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”
“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”
“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”
“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”
Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”
“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”
“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”
“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”
Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.
“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”
Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”
Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”
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Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.
It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.
She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.
Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”
“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.
“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”
“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”
“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”
She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.
“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”
“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”
“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”
“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”
“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”
“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.
The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”
There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.
“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”
“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”
Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.
And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.
Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”
Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.
“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”
“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”
“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”
“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”
“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”
“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”
“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”
“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”
“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”
“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”
“Azriel, please—”
“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”
He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.
About time, too.
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This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.
The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.
“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”
Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”
You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”
A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”
Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.
But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.
Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.
But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.
Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.
At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.
Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.
From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.
Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.
“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.
You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”
Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.
“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”
He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.
And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.
But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.
But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.
You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”
And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.
“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”
“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.
But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”
“I do, very much so.”
“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”
A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”
“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”
“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.
Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.
But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.
“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”
No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.
Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.
He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.
“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”
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If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.
Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”
Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”
Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.
“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”
Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”
“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”
Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”
“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”
The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.
“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”
“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”
All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.
Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”
“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”
“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”
“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”
“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—
But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.
“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.
“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”
“But why?” Cassian frowns.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”
Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.
Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”
Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”
“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”
Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”
Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.
But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.
He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.
That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.
pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#shadowsinger#shadowsinger x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel fic#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar random#acotar x reader#acotar writing#acotar fanfic#acotar headcanon#acotar smut#acotar series#acotar fic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#reader insert#illyrians#rhysand#cassian#practice on me
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Evan Buckley x fiancée reader
Reader and Evan are recently engaged. Reader gets shot by the sniper instead of Eddie, Buck gets covered in her blood and attempts to save her (like the episode) and then just go from there please ❤️🩹. Please include lots of angst, sadness and happiness too 🫶
EMERGENCY ROOM - E.BUCKLEY
after a completely normal day on the job, you get shot seemingly out of nowhere. buck does not handle it well.
WARNINGS: spoilers for 04x13 and 04x14, established relationship, major character injury, blood, guns, buck is on the verge of a mental breakdown for most of it
buck x fiancée!reader II flangst Il 4.2k Il requests open!
a/n: i had so much fun writing the little fluffy bits at the beginning and the end i love them your honour
₊ ⊹ masterlist!!
“I know right?” You finally had a few minutes to fawn over your newest accessory now that you’d managed to secure Charlie away from his mother and get him into an ambulance, holding your left arm up in front of you and wiggling your fingers to show off the shiny rock on your ring finger towards Eddie. “Who would’ve thought he was so focused on the details?”
“Hey!” Buck nudges you as he walks past, shaking his head with a smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“People like you aren’t exactly known for their ‘detail orientation’ Buck,” Eddie laughs as he walks past him, pushing his head with the palm of his hand. “Good job on defying expectations,”
“Hey I am plenty detail oriented thank you,” gestures outwards exasperatedly, glancing at you for backup for his statement. You give him nothing more than a shrug of your shoulders.
“Shannon was the same when I bought her ring don’t worry,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder. “Went on this whole rant about how she never expected me to put so much thought into how it looked, I think it’s just a girl thing,”
“It’s not-” You scoff, putting a hand up in front of him in absolute astoundment. “I am trying to show my appreciation for the thought that went into making this ring fit my preferences, and you are making me feel disrespected,”
You point between the two boys in exaggerated disappointment, turning your face away from the two with a click of your tongue and a shake of your head.
“Oh come on baby seriously?” Evan sighs dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his head fall back until he’s facing the sky.
“You’ve hitched your wagon to a tank,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder once more, and the two share a short laugh.
“I’m gonna ride with Charlie to the hospital, you two good to get back to the station and tell Bobby?” Buck nods towards Eddie, giving him a small nudge towards the ambulance. “Yeah go ahead, we got it from here,”
“Thanks,” He returns Buck’s nod and then sends a finger salute in your direction. “See you later Mrs. Buckley, try not to kill him before the wedding,”
You laugh shortly at Eddie’s jest, shaking your head. “See you Eddie, give us a call if anything happens,”
“Will do!” He shoots the two of you a wave as he jogs towards the ambulance, climbing inside before the doors get shut behind him.
“Mrs Buckley,” Buck takes a few steps forward to grasp gently at your hips and pull you close to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I could get used to the sound of that,”
You give a soft hum as his lips press to your temple, turning your face upwards to kiss him properly. “I’d hope so,”
You pull out of his grasp with a soft laugh, pressing the keys to the paramedic car against Buck’s chest for him to take before actually beginning to walk towards the vehicle.
“We’ll have to get you a new turnout jacket too,” Buck follows behind you with a smile etched onto his face, eyes scanning over the last name printed on the back of your jacket. One you wouldn’t have for much longer.
“It’d be pretty confusing to have two Buckleys in the same station, the jacket might have to stay,” You turn around to face him once more with a smile of your own, arms crossed across your chest. “We’ll know the truth though,”
You shoot Buck a wink and he laughs, stopping a few feet in front of you and mirroring the way your arms are crossed with his own. “Are you saying that I can’t show off the fact that you’ll have my last name to every single stranger we meet on the job? Because I don’t know if that’s gonna fly with me,”
“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse to let them know, you’ve got a talent-” Your retort is halted by a sharp sound, then a searing pain in your right shoulder, and then you can feel yourself tumble to the floor as your legs give out underneath you under no will of your own.
Buck flinches as you do, a mix of shock from the noise and an instinctual reaction to the splatter that covers side of his face and stripes of his button down shirt.
Then it feels like the world just stops. Buck stands there with wide eyes as he watches you hit the pavement, in an awake state of sleep paralysis as a pool of blood begins to seep onto the pavement and stain the tarmac red underneath you.
He wanted to shout, to run, to move, Anything.
But he couldn’t so much as curl his hands into fists as he stood stationary in shock, eyes wide and locked onto where you’d crumpled into yourself on the concrete.
It took one of the other firefighters on the scene physically tackling him down to the ground for him to move, and even then his eyes never left yours, just barely open as you slip in an out of consciousness.
“Get down!” Mehta yelled across the group of vehicles as he pulled Buck behind one of the trucks, covering him with his own body as he tried to radio for help. “Shots fired. Shots fired a firefighter is down. I repeat, a firefighter is down!”
Buck can feel himself hyperventilate, his hearing going quiet until the sounds of the civilians nearby are drowned out and replaced with his own racing heartbeat. He watches as your hand crawls forward along the pavement in his direction as if silently trying to confirm to him that you were okay, but the far away look in your eyes wasn’t reassuring him at all.
Then your eyelids fluttered and you weren’t looking at him anymore, your hand left still in front of you with the stones on your finger glinting in the sunlight like a sick taunt of Buck’s anguish.
Shots continued to rain over the fire engines, and as Mehta moved from Buck to radio dispatch again he mustered all of the strength he physically could under the rush of adrenaline in his system to make a break for where you were laying, crawling underneath the bed of the truck as cover as he watched you roll from your side onto your back. “Come on baby! I’m coming I got you!”
You groan through the pain as you roll over, still conscious despite the agony raging through your shoulder and down the rest of your arm as you squint your eyes from the harsh sunlight.
Buck gets as far out as he can without exposing himself to the raining shots, grasping at your wrist as soon as he’s close enough and tugging until you’re dragged under the engine and onto the other side protected by the metal of the truck.
The friction sends another sharp wave of pain through your body, a sharp yell leaving your throat as you’re dragged across the concrete.
“Get her in the cabin! Quickly!” Mehta and a few other firefighters from station 133 rush to open and prep the back of the truck to cover you inside, and Buck pulls you into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder as quickly — and carefully — as he can to secure you safely.
Another shot is fired in the group’s direction as you’re pulled out of Buck’s hold and onto the seats, shattering the glass of the window and only further hastening the efforts of the firefighters as everyone clambers into the truck to rush away from the scene, leaving the paramedics car you’d driven over in erupted in flames on the side of the road.
“Okay, we got you, we got you you’re okay,” Buck lays you down across the back of the truck with help from one of the paradmedic’s from station 133 with panic written all over his face, continuing to speak reassurances to you in haste, mostly trying to reassure himself that you would be alright.
He rips open the top of your uniform shirt, paying no mind to the buttons that are pulled from their stitching in his haste to cover your gunshot wound in gauze and stop it from bleeding out. “We got you baby you’re okay, just- just stay with me okay?”
Your vision is blurry as you blink up at him, and you can vaguely hear Mehta calling for a trauma unit on standby as you attempt to lift your head slightly to clear your vision of Buck’s face. “…Are you hurt? There’s a lot of blood..”
Buck follows your eyes as they trail down the stains covering the front of his torso, and he shakes his head quickly as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. “No no no, I’m good baby, you just hang on for me okay?”
The hand that’s not stopping your wound from bleeding all over the place moves to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the way he practically barks at the driver of the truck to hurry up.
You barely manage to lift up your arm to cover his hand with your own over your cheek, shaking your head slightly under his palm. “You shouldn’t shout at people…”
“I know baby I’m sorry-” He takes a sharp breath in as he turns his attention back to focusing on you and not on the fact he felt like this drive was taking forever.
The paramedic in the back helps to stabilise your head as you start to slip out of consciousness again, and buck rubs his thumb over your cheekbone to get you to keep your eyes on his. “Hey, three minutes away, you’re so close, I just need you to hang-”
It wasn’t working very well.
The paramedic preps and secures an oxygen mask over your mouth as your eyes start to flutter closed.
“I just need you to hang on…please…”
This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
He’d just asked you to marry him, you were supposed to be spending the evening celebrating.
You were supposed to get married and have children and grow old together.
Not get shot and bleed out in the back of a fire truck.
Buck jumps out of the vehicle the minute it stops in the hospital, practically screaming for the doctors to come and get you out.
“Through and through, upper torso,” Mehta explains your injury with just as much panic as Buck, although remains decidedly more collected as he barrels out of the front to watch you get pulled onto a gurney. “Large caliber-”
“We’ve got transfusion ready-” One of the nurses gives Mehta a nod before stopping as she takes in the last part of the explanation. “Did you say large caliber?”
“It was a sniper-”
“Pulse is weak! Trauma bay 2, quickly!” The medical team rush with you on the gurney towards the entrance of the hospital’s emergency unit with Buck watching on like everything was happening in slow motion. “Let’s set up for a thoracotomy-”
“Buckley, are you okay?” Mehta looks over at Buck with concern written all over his face as he examines the stains of your blood covering his face, torso, and hands, and Buck waves him off with nothing but a dismissive nod as an answer as his eyes remain locked on the door you disappear into, the the 133 firefighters, Mehta included, following after you inside.
He was not okay.
—
“Hey,” Eddie approached Buck carefully, but he still jumped at his voice anyhow. Eddie gave a short sigh through furrowed eyebrows, face contorting in concern. “She’s gonna be okay man, she’s strong, you know that don’t you?”
Eddie placed his hand slowly on Buck’s shoulder, immediately able to feel the trembling in his hands that traveled up his arms and into his back. “She was standing right in front of me I-”
“Hey.” Eddie swerved Buck to look at him, shaking his head. “This was not your fault. Nobody knows what happened. When’s going to be alright, you’ve just gotta put faith in her,”
Buck took a series of short, staggered breaths through his nose with a small nod, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking. “I need to change- And have a shower-”
“You need to take a second to breathe,”
“You don’t get it I-” Buck exhales heavily, his eyes flickering as he turns to face Eddie. “I can still feel it under my fingernails and no matter how many times I wash my hands it won’t go away-”
“Okay slow down for a second,” Eddie raises his hand up to stop Buck from falling into a spiral. “You can’t go home alone like this, you’re not okay,”
“I don’t know what to do-”
“Alright, you’re coming back with me, come on,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder, guiding him through the parking lot towards his car.
—
A sniper who was specifically targeting firefighters, who would’ve thought.
Being sent back out into the field wearing bullet proof vests and swat protection didn’t feel any more secure than proceeding unprotected Buck thinks. If they were going to get shot with a bullet proof vest on then the sniper would just aim for somewhere not covered by the vest.
And it only proved to remind him that you didn’t have the protection you needed when you were shot. Why should he be surrounded by swat agents and covered in kevlar when you weren’t afforded the same luxury.
You ‘took one for the team’ as people would say. But you shouldn’t have had to. Why you?
It was such a selfish thought, but he would’ve rathered any other firefighter on the scene get shot as long as it wasn’t you. He’d’ve rathered get shot himself than it being you.
But apparently the universe was conspiring against him, making him watch and suffer from the sidelines as everything he cared about got ruined one by one.
Maybe that was why he was so reckless. Maybe that was why he climbed the crane with zero protection when he knew he could’ve been shot at from any of the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers and loose his own life whilst still debating how he would live if you lost yours.
He could see the look Bobby gave him as he was lowered down to the ground again, preparing himself for another scolding about him being ‘reckless’ once they got back to the station.
But it never came.
In fact, Bobby didn’t speak to him at all.
“Are you gonna say anything to me?”
Bobby puts down the chopping knife with a sigh, turning around to see Buck leant against the kitchenette sink. “I don’t know Buck, what would you like me to say?”
“Uh… I mean- I mean usually it’s- ‘what were you thinking?’ or ‘that was reckless’ or my… personal favourite ‘you could’ve been killed’.”
“It doesn’t seem like I need to have that conversation, you know it by heart already.” Bobby gestures exasperatedly before picking the knife back up to continue chopping the onion on the table in front of him. “And still, you went full Buck.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing-” Buck approaches Bobby slowly, arms braced over his stomach in a self-soothing fashion.
Bobby sighs once more as Buck doesn’t drop the conversation, giving up his chopping to put his full attention on Buck. “You’ll never be the guy who thinks before he acts. And i’ve learned to come to terms with that,”
”In part because I realised I don’t have a choice, you’re never gonna change,” Bobby gestures outwards with his hands before clasping them together. “But also because… I know no matter what actions you take, no matter how dangerous or impulsive they may be, they come from your heart because you care.”
“Wow, uh, thank you,” Buck gives a soft chuckle as he claps his fist into his hand, clearly happy that he wasn’t getting a scolding this time around.
“Today was not that.” Bobby paused for a second before continuing. “You didn’t get caught up in some moment and rush in where angels fear to tread, you made a deliberate choice to make yourself a target.”
“Yeah.” Buck shrugs his shoulders exasperatedly. “I made myself a target because I wasn’t gonna let any of you guys take that risk because I cannot handle anyone else getting hurt right now.”
“And what about her? How do you think she would feel if she wakes up in the hospital to find out you got yourself killed because you weren’t being careful?”
Buck didn’t really have an answer to that question.
“You have responsibilities Buck. You have a responsibility to this team, you have a responsibility to your fiancée, and most importantly you have a responsibility to yourself.” Bobby shakes his head disappointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot keep putting yourself in reckless situations Buckley because there are people around you that need you alive.”
Buck exhales heavily, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look I couldn’t protect her from getting shot, but today? I had an opportunity to protect the rest of you. So I did.”
Bobby sighs as he turns back to the half diced onion, finishing chopping it slowly. “We are a team, and we’re supposed to protect each other.”
There’s a small moment of silence before Bobby turns to look at Buck for a final time, a stern expression on his face, although lingering traces of gracefulness simmer into the wrinkles by his eyes. “Don’t do it again.”
—
The doctors said the surgery went well. It was probably one of the most relieving moments of his life.
He didn’t have time to visit you immediately though, the team had to go on a call out first.
And of course, because nothing was ever easy, the man who’d called 911 from the fire was also the sniper who was targeting firefighters.
Bobby ended up with a pistol shot to his abdomen, and after helping Athena get into the building dressed in firefighter gear to subdue the sniper the team headed straight to the hospital, now with two team members induced for bullet wounds instead of just one.
Bobby’s was much less severe than yours, but he was still put in for surgery, and Buck decided that it was a good time to visit you down the hall in the recovery unit.
You were still unconscious when he arrived, and it physically pained him to see you hooked up to so many machines as he took a seat at your bedside.
“Hey baby…” He took your limp hand in his own, fingers brushing over your knuckles and the ring still resting on your finger. “The doctors said that your surgery went well… So you should wake up soon…”
He lets out a small stunted exhale as he lifts your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to your fingers. “I was so worried about you… God you scared me half to death-”
He continues to fiddle aimlessly with your fingers as he recounts the events of what happened to your sleeping self, how he risked his life, how Athena ran into a burning building to find Bobby and how he’d been bothering Eddie and Christopher for the last few days so he wouldn’t have to be on his own.
He told you how he’d moved the reservation of your engagement dinner so you wouldn’t have to miss it, laughing softly to himself at how excited you were to go to that specific resturaunt and try everything they had to offer.
He stayed after regular visitor hours were over, using his position as your fiancé to stay just a little while longer as a priority visitor, not wanting to miss the moment you woke up.
He ended up missing it anyway.
You woke up slowly, eyes fluttering open to the florescent lighting and the rhythmic beeping of the heart rate monitor.
The most prominent thing though, was an added weight on your left thigh, right near your stomach.
A mop of sandy blond hair is what meets your sight first, then your follow it down to his broad shoulders and his back, awkwardly bent forward in his chair to lay his weight on top of you. Then you noticed your hands caged together, his fingers intertwined with yours and held close to his chest.
The sight makes your heart melt a little, and you smile softly as you achily pull your right hand over to thread your fingers through his hair.
He stirs almost immediately, and you can feel his eyelashes brush against your thigh through the thin hospital bedsheets as he pushes himself upwards slowly until he’s supporting his own weight again.
“Hi baby…”
Buck lets out a short breath as your voice meets his ears, features flooded with relief. “Hi…”
You mirror the smile that breaks onto his face with your own, expression still laced with fatigue but also filled with your absolute love for him. He’d really stayed with you in the hospital for so long he’d fallen asleep.
“How’re you feeling?” Buck’s gaze flickers from your face to your bandaged right arm, and you give him a small shake of your head to dismiss his worries.
“I’m okay, takes more than puny bullet to put me out of commission,” You give him a soft wink and he gives you a little chuckles in return.
“You’re one tough lady…” he leans forward towards you until your foreheads brush against each other and your noses bump together. “I’m glad you’re okay…”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” You laugh softly, shaking your head against his and causing your noses to brush back and forth. “You put a ring on it remember?”
You pull back enough to flash your hand at him and show of your ring like he wasn’t the one who bought it for you.
He pulls your hand down into his lap without a care in the world for looking at the gemstone on your finger, his eyes not wavering from yours for even a second as he cups your face for a kiss, one filled with all the love and pain and anxiety and relief that he’d felt over the last few days.
“I love you so much-”
His lips leave you almost breathless, and you give his hand a soft squeeze. “I love you too Evan,”
He pulls you in for another kiss almost before you can even finish your sentence, and you laugh softly against his lips at the fervour. as you return his enthusiasm.
He shifts his hand down from your face closer to your neck as the kiss continues, and you groan against his mouth as it brushes a little too close to the brushing around your shoulder, pulling away with a hiss of pain.
“Ow ow ow-”
“Oh I’m so sorry-” Buck brings both his hands up away from you like he’s not exactly sure what to do with them, eyes wide in imminent panic of hurting you further.
The expression on his face sends you into a small for of giggles, and it’s enough to ease his panic back into calmness as you prove that he hadn’t actually hurt you.
“You always were a little rough with your hands,” You tilt your head against the pillow with an amused expression on your face, and it’s enough for him to crack a smile himself as you reach up your hand to pull his head back down towards yours.
Your lips connect more with his teeth than his own lips as you kiss him through his smile, and he laughs softly into your mouth at your statement. “You’ve never complained,”
“I never will complain,” You shake your head against his softly with a laugh of your own, one that’s cut off by his lips on yours once more.
All’s well that ends well he supposes.
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Interlude No. 1 | bsk x reader
Interlude No. 1: Inspired by these pics and me wanting to marry Boo Seungkwan
Rating: M (18+) | WC: 2.6k | Pairing: bsk x reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: semi public sex, limo sex, marriage kink, fingering, mouth covering, cum eating/swallowing, cum as lube, hand job, oral m. rec., finger sucking, they both cry
Reader Notes: wears a dress, reader and kwan both wear makeup, has a vagina
“I can’t believe we did it,” Seungkwan pants ecstatically as he settles into the backseat of the limousine, clicking his seatbelt into place just as you do and grinning when he sees the partition is already up.
“I know, we’re fucking married,” you send him a watery beam, leaning into his side when he raises his arm and letting your giggles bubble up when you see him tilt his head back and take a deep breath. That means he’s trying not to cry too, and while usually he’s open with his tears, you know that sometimes once he starts, he can’t stop. He must know this would be one of those times.
Part of you wants to tease him, remind him how sweet his vows were and how very much you love him and how you can’t wait to spend your life with him, but you know that would make you cry too, and you don’t want to mess up your makeup any more than you want to mess up his.
That thought flies out of the window as soon as he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, murmuring, “I’m your husband,” in between kisses. He seems frantic almost, sucking at your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into it, making you whimper and shift closer.
You can’t get far with the seatbelt restricting you, and you’re about to depress the button to release it just as the limo pulls away from the venue. Seungkwan wouldn’t want you to be unsafe, so you move your hand away from the buckle and sink it into his hair instead, clenching your fingers in the silky locks when his lips move down to your neck.
As it is, you’re just grateful you decided on the middle seat, wanting to be as close to him as possible. It’s paying off now, with the sucking kisses he’s laying on your throat and the hand resting on your knee.
You changed into your reception dress before leaving the venue and that’s another thing you’re grateful for, because it gives Seungkwan even easier access to you. He doesn’t have to work your skirt up as much as he would have in your wedding dress, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh before you can even take another breath.
“Can I make you cum, honey? Please? It’ll be hours before I can get my hands on you again,” he sounds like he’s in agony, like he’s burning for you, and it takes you little to no time to nod your head and spread your legs wider.
He tugs your leg over his to open you up, making you gasp as you realize how wet your silk panties have grown. You gasp even louder when his hand covers you, his soft, warm palm pressing into your clit and his elegant fingers digging into your entrance. The silk is so fine and delicate, you can feel every touch like there’s nothing in between you, his hand grinding into your covered pussy as he murmurs in your ear.
“Never gonna get rid of me now, honey.”
“So wet for your husband, aren’t you?”
“Gonna cum for me? Hm?”
The friction feels incredible, but it’s not enough, and you know he knows that. He’s just taunting you by asking if you’re going to cum for him, because you’re both well aware that you will, just not like this.
“Kwannie, we don’t have enough time for you to fuck around,” you whine softly, glancing at the digital clock that rests above the partition. There’s only thirty five minutes left of the drive to the reception venue, he’ll need to get a move on if he wants any chance at getting his own release.
“I’m not fucking around, honey. I’m enjoying you like you deserve,” he says in response, though he does listen to you in part by slipping his fingers under your panties and letting them glide along your cunt.
“You have literally the rest of our lives to enjoy me. Please, just-”
A sharp whimper cuts off your words as he sinks two fingers deep inside of you, his knuckles flush to your pussy and his eyes locked with yours. “S’that what you wanted?”
His voice is hushed, deeper than usual, and it sends a shiver rolling down your spine just as he curls his fingers, the tips prodding into your sweet spot before you can even try to answer him.
The pleasure gathering in your belly steals your words, but you don’t think he really expected an answer anyway. He knows it’s hard for you to put together sentences when he’s got part of himself inside of you, whether it’s his fingers, his tongue, or his cock.
Fuck, his cock…
You want his cock so bad, your eyes flicking down and your hand releasing its death grip on your seatbelt to cover the growing bulge in his dress pants. You squeeze along his length, whimpering at the way he hardens under your touch, then whimpering again when he starts fucking his fingers in and out of you.
He’s gentle at first, thrusting slowly and crooking his fingers on every stroke in, his thumb pressing down on your throbbing clit as he finds his rhythm. When you clumsily unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper to tug his cock out, his pace becomes punishing, like he’s trying to distract you from your endeavors.
“Why won’t you let me…” You begin but don’t finish, breathless at the sensation of him sliding a third finger inside of you.
“It’ll make a mess,” he sounds almost as ruined as you, making you drag your eyes back up to meet his, wanting to see his face as he takes you apart.
He’s blushing, his dark brown hair messily falling over his forehead and his plush lips open as he takes in shuddering breaths. He’s so fucking pretty, your lovely, gorgeous, beautiful Seungkwan, your lovely, gorgeous, beautiful husband.
“What if I swallow?” You offer feebly, your words tinged with tears and desire as you grow closer and closer.
“Maybe. You cum first, and then we’ll see,” he says, his voice tight and his fingers relentless.
They’re barely fucking in and out of you now, just tapping and grinding into your g-spot as his thumb rubs tiny circles around your clit, and you can feel the waves as they lap at your shore, feel the heat stirring inside of you, every single touch stoking the fire. You try to keep your mouth closed, biting your lips and holding your tongue, knowing he usually makes you cum so loudly, the neighbors complain.
You’re sure the kind elderly driver has heard (and seen) his share of escapades, but you don’t want to add yourself to the list.
Unfortunately, you just don’t have enough self control to be quiet, your cries loud even with your efforts, so you take the hand of the arm wrapped around you and pull it up to cover your mouth. That’s the last indication you give that you’re teetering on the edge, though Seungkwan doesn’t need a sign to know that.
He knows you inside and out, loves every single part of you, even (and maybe especially) the parts you used to try to hide from him.
You don’t hide a thing now, and you never will again.
That’s why it feels so right to shout into his palm as he pushes you into bliss, his fingers squelching inside of you and his thumb ruthless on your clit. Your hips buck into his hand, your body presses against the warmth of his, and your eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking out of the sides as you float away on cotton candy clouds.
When you go limp against him and blink blearily, looking around the small space like you don’t know how you came to be there, he pulls his fingers out and slides them into his mouth, sucking your taste away like you’re something sweet to be savored.
You come back online a bit when he removes his hand from your mouth, your eyes finding the clock. You should still have twenty minutes left to suck his dick and freshen up, and before he can even open his mouth to ask how you are, you’re turning and finishing your earlier task of pulling his dick out.
He’s hard, so hard, and flushed at the tip, already leaking precum that you smear over his head and length, leaving him glistening in the low light of the limo. You try to bend down and swallow his cock, but the angle isn’t right with the seatbelt holding you back, so you dip your fingers between your legs to gather up your remaining arousal and use it to ease the glide of your hand on his dick.
Seungkwan groans deeply, likely both at finally having some stimulation and at the fact that you’re using your own wetness as lube. He has great stamina so it usually takes a bit longer for him to cum, but already you can feel him twitching and pulsing in your hand. It brings a wicked little smile to your face, knowing you’ll undo him in half the time normally required, and with his competitive spirit, you’re glad he’s got his head tilted back and his eyes closed.
If he saw the look on your face, he’d probably hold his orgasm back, just to show you he can.
You feel the limo roll to a stop, but it doesn’t shift into park, and suddenly, there’s a voice over the intercom.
“Ran into some traffic, folks. Looks like it’ll be an extra ten or so minutes, but I’ll get ya there, don’t you worry.”
You press the button and say brightly, “Thank you so much, Leonard!” before unbuckling your seatbelt and sliding onto the floor.
“Honey, your dress will get dirty!” Seungkwan frets, his hands hovering over you as if he’s about to scoop you up and pull you into his lap.
“I won’t be down here long,” you smile sweetly, leaning down to lick at the head of his cock before opening wide and working half of it into your mouth at once. He bites out muted curses, his knees spreading to make room for you and his hands clenching in his dress pants so they don’t mess up your hair.
Your mouth is one of his weaknesses, he always breaks for you so quickly, always fills your throat with his cum and kisses you so tenderly after, making giving him head an experience almost as pleasurable for you as it is for him.
The traffic means you can take your time, but you’d rather make him cum now and get fixed up so you can cuddle for a bit before the reception. You both tend to feel touchy and needy after sex, and though you know you’ll be together all night, you also know you won’t have a single free moment to yourselves until the party is over.
So you suck harder, bob your head faster, use your hand to cover what your mouth can’t take. You moan around him, knowing he loves the vibrations, and take one of his hands from his knee to wrap it around your neck.
You don’t want him to choke you (right now) but you do want him to feel himself move, feel your throat work around him, feel your sounds in more ways than one. He whimpers brokenly, gazing down at you with tears welling up in his eyes and his face tight with bliss.
He’s trying to be quiet like you were, and you think he might be even worse at it, his cries loud against the quiet hum of the limo. You reach up to cover his mouth and he sucks two of your fingers between his lips instead, the wet heat of his tongue reminding you how it feels between your thighs and sending a zip of electricity down to your clit.
You so wish you could climb up and sink down onto him, let him fill you up with his cock and his cum, but you don’t have a condom and you can’t have it leaking down your thighs while you celebrate with your family and friends.
You can be content with swallowing. This time.
It won’t be long, now, not with the way he’s bucking into your mouth in little thrusts, or the way his cock is jerking and spitting precum, or the way he’s groaning around your fingers, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes to settle in the creases of his lips.
“Cum,” you moan, or try to, around his throbbing dick, and that’s enough for him.
He stubbornly keeps his eyes on you even as his head tilts back and your fingers nearly slip from his mouth, his hips rolling up and sending his cock just a little bit further down your throat before white hot cum starts to spill out. You can’t taste it, he’s in too deep for that, but you can feel it as it drips down your esophagus, your throat opening and closing around him as you swallow and swallow and swallow him down.
He was near silent this time, somehow, and when you notice how red he’s getting, you realize it’s because he was holding his breath to hold his noises in. His lips part so he can gasp for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he blinks down at you, the look in his eye telling you he wants to ask Leonard to take you straight home.
Sometimes Seungkwan gets a little… territorial, covetous, over you after he cums, and as he reaches down for you, you feel the limo lurch forward, nearly sending you face first into his softening dick.
You climb back up onto the middle seat and reach for your bag before buckling your seatbelt back up, digging through to find what you need.
You’ve got tissues and wipes to clean yourselves up with, plus makeup and a mirror for necessary touch ups (and some gum, thank goodness). You pass a wipe and tissue over to Seungkwan, but he just stares at you blankly, apparently still too out of his head to figure out what to do with them. You shake your head with a fond smile, gently wiping his cock down and drying it off before tucking it back into his pants, redoing them carefully and smoothing out the wrinkles he’d pinched into them.
You clean yourself up next with a quick swipe between your legs, balling up the used tissues and wipes and putting them in the trash can inset in the limo door. Popping some gum into your mouth and then Seungkwan’s to get rid of the scent of bodily fluids, you glance over his face, noting that he should be fine with just a light reapplication of his cushion foundation and some setting powder.
You take care of him without thinking about it, fixing his makeup and then his hair before moving on to yourself. He won’t stop staring at you, his eyes misty again and his mouth wobbling.
“I love you so much,” he mumbles, watching as you restore your own appearance to its pre-interlude state.
“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your minty lips to his and settling back into his side when he lifts his arm for you. Soon enough, you’ll roll up to your wedding reception and enter as the Boos, but for now, you’re you and he’s him, and that’s all you could ever need.
AN: i love boo seungkwan that is all i have to say about this
jk! i'm thinking about doing a less formal series of interludes like this, little breaks of fluff and smut in between big life events. i think it could be fun and a way to write more with less pressure! feel free to send in asks with ideas and i'll start keeping a list 💖
My Masterlist
#svthub#k vanity#✨em’s interludes✨#seventeen smut#svt smut#boo seungkwan smut#seungkwan smut#kpop smut#boo seungkwan x reader#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan x you#seungkwan x y/n#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen fic#seungkwan imagines#seungkwan scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt fanfic#svt x reader#kpop imagine#kpop oneshots#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfic#✨emily writes✨
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Silliness and why it’s important
Crowley and Aziraphale are so silly and it’s something I really love about them and it’s something I think is really important to them because they can be silly with each other in a way they can’t with anyone else.
Both of them are silly – Aziraphale displays this side of himself much more readily and more often than Crowley does, but Crowley is silly too. Even present day Crowley who often seems to get labelled as dark and jaded and traumatised is actually still really quite silly.
Quick note - this post is part of a series which contains my opinions on Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship dynamics. I already wrote one on what they ask of each other (click to read it!). This one is silliness, by which I mean the funny things they do to amuse themselves and each other and also to a lesser extend the times when they are just a bit weird, because they are both slightly bonkers sometimes, for no other reason than they want to behave like that.
(By the way, if you make it to the end of this post without the word silly becoming, well, silly, then I applaud you!)
Why is being silly with each other important?
Can you imagine them being silly with any of the other demons or angels? There’s no way Aziraphale could display his silly side in heaven, the archangels are serious and wouldn’t understand the silliness, they’d just think Aziraphale was mad. Same for Crowley, the demons of hell just wouldn’t get it, they’d be scornful or dismissive at best, and also probably think he was mad (in fact we know they would because Aziraphale later utilises this idea when they body swap). In addition for both of them silliness around humans is something they can and do indulge in, but they don’t get a lot out of it because humans probably just think they’re a bit odd. Aziraphale for example isn't as socially unaware as he first appears, unless he’s playing a character (for example when he’s the magician or reporter), he tends towards being basically affable around humans, because that’s the sort of persona he wants to cultivate. Crowley generally wants to look suave so silliness around most humans is out for him too. It’s not that they are never silly around humans (see 1601 for just one example) but usually they aren’t. That leaves them with each other.
Crowley’s silliness
Taking them one at a time, let’s look at their silliness and what it says about them. I’m starting with Crowley because his is less obvious. Crowley doesn’t seem to be super silly at first glance. His silly streak is overshadowed by Aziraphale’s and also his tendency not to smile and be so overt whilst doing silly things. It’s partly why he looks like he’s lost a lot of his joy in life, but I’m not so sure that’s true. Crowley is optimistic and continues to be optimistic right up to season two – he also continues to be silly.
Let’s look at some examples of Crowley’s silliness through the ages:
Firstly angel Crowley is obviously a bit inclined towards the ridiculous – look at the weird and wonderful noises and faces he makes whilst creating the nebula. Aziraphale is utterly charmed (and so are we all).
Next another obvious one – Bildad the Shuite. This whole persona is just silly. From the odd facial hair to the weird things he does, Crowley is just having quite a lot of fun here. His ridiculous summarisation of the permit (“hugs and kiss, God”), more weird noises and faces as he fireballs the goats, his over-exaggerated setting everything aflame in the house (here some of his silliness is for a different purpose – to test Aziraphale’s trust in him), and then ending with his farcical cobbler/obstetrician doing a fake child-birth, complete with ridiculous over-acting for the benefit of the angels. For a lot of the Job incident Crowley is indulging his own silliness for a serious end.
After that we have to skip right to 1826 for the next bout of blatant silliness on Crowley’s part. For a start he’s ricocheting through Scottish accents, sometimes changing from one sentence to the next. He’s having fun with the persona he’s created for himself and he really doesn’t care who notices. He also banters with Aziraphale, Elspeth and Dr Dalrymple here in a way I really love, “bet you left your loom on your farm!”, “more murders, I’ll drink to that!”
There’s a lot of silliness in 1941 and I really don’t need to list it all – the middle name that’s just a J, the weird American accent, his very genuine laugh of delight at the snakes in a can trick, and more. This isn’t a demon that’s so jaded he isn’t still having fun.
So then we get to the modern day. There’s limited opportunities for super overt silliness because the situation is serious in both seasons, but there’s still some there:
In series one instead of miracling the guy with the paintball gun to sleep he literally turns himself into a monster and then declares “that was fun!” It’s ridiculous behaviour if you think about it, but Crowley enjoys himself.
The way he drinks the coffee in S2E1. Seriously. Why does no one talk about this? He gulps it down and then hisses/pulls a really stupid face. Maybe it gets overlooked because it’s sort of a bit sexy too, but honestly, it’s pure ridiculousness and he knows it.
From this point on Crowley’s silliness tends towards being more quiet silliness, rather than over the top silliness like Aziraphale’s is (with one notable exception). In the pub scene he orders the drink with a joke about Aziraphale, and then proceeds to intimidate Mr Brown in a not at all normal voice. He later asks Nina stupid questions about awnings and sudden rain – he must know these are silly questions from her perspective, but he does it anyway because he’s got a plan and he’s just a bit daft and doesn’t mind appearing weird around humans if need be. Later in the bookshop he throws the books around – honestly he could just place them down, he will know he’s being silly when he chucks them all over the place, but he does it anyway. In between this we have Muriel, which is a delightful moment of them both being a bit silly together at Muriel’s expense, except they’re both really quite kind about it as well. Then we get the exception - in the magic shop he dons a fez and messes about with a crystal ball – really do I need to say more about how obviously overtly silly this is?
I’m sure I’ve missed plenty of other examples as well (I've not even mentioned how silly the apology dance is!), these are just the ones I can think of right now.
So all this to say that Crowley is silly and most of his silliness is when he’s around Aziraphale. We as the audience don’t see Crowley being super silly very often, but we can extrapolate from what we do see that throughout the history we don’t see he must display his silly side to Aziraphale reasonably regularly. The biggest piece of evidence for the idea that Crowley is a lot sillier than we tend to see him is when we glimpse him through Aziraphale’s eyes. We know he sees Crowley as someone who does funny things and that this is something Crowley continues to do right up to the present day because when they body swap and Aziraphale takes his place in hell what are the two main characteristics of Crowley that he plays up? Sarcasm and silliness.
So what does Aziraphale think of Crowley’s silliness? Well, he doesn’t actually react much to it (see later for one reaction he does tend to give). He definitely seems to expect it though, he takes it as a given part of Crowley’s personality and I think we can safely assume he likes it, since he likes Crowley. Is Crowley aware of his own silly streak? Absolutely. How do we know? Again because of how Aziraphale sees him. The first thing he tells Crowley about on his return is how silly he was: “I asked them for a rubber duck!” and Crowley laughs along with him, delighting in the silliness of it all. This reaction is a tacit acceptance of what Aziraphale has done yep, that’s totally the sort of thing I would have done, angel, I know I’m sometimes silly like that and I’m delighted that you see that and that you are also silly.
Aziraphale’s silliness
Aziraphale’s silliness is so overt that I’m not even going to list examples of it. We all know how silly Aziraphale is, right? We’ve all seen his stupid behaviour in the magic shop and his daft attempts at speaking French because he’s somehow wiped his ability to speak proper French from his memory (anyone got a meta about how he’s achieved this because I don’t think it gets enough attention?)
Basically Aziraphale is quite often as mad as a box of frogs and Crowley adores him for it. Sometimes he teases him about it, but a lot of the time he doesn’t even do that, he just shakes his head a bit and looks at Aziraphale like he can’t believe what he’s hearing or seeing and like he thinks Aziraphale is absolutely insane. This is a massively important part of their relationship dynamic. Aziraphale is silly and Crowley fake rolls his eyes at him – it’s what they do.
Why is this so important? Well firstly Aziraphale’s silliness is something that he gives to Crowley. And he only gifts it to him after he starts to trust him – Aziraphale’s silliness is a symbol of trust and Crowley knows it. If you made a graph of their silliness around each other through time then Crowley’s would stay fairly consistent, maybe even drop off a bit, (as he gets more worried about their situation), but Aziraphale’s would be a massive upward curve probably starting sometime around the arrangement (which is around 1020AD according to the book). This is another reason Crowley falsely looks super morose and jaded by S2. At the beginning of their relationship Crowley is the only silly one and he’s overtly silly fairly often (and probably this continues in meetings we don’t see), whilst Aziraphale is anxious and serious a lot of the time (there’s no real silliness from Aziraphale during the Job incident) because he’s struggling with his own morals and his own place in relation to heaven and God’s will.
Over time though he starts to trust Crowley and once he does he unleashes the silliness and this becomes a basic part of his personality. For the audience 1601 is the first time we see this, but it’s clear by that point that Crowley knows he’s silly and isn’t surprised by it. Once Aziraphale starts being silly around Crowley he does it with increasing regularity and by the time the events of S2 come around he’s silly so often and so wildly ridiculous about it that it makes Crowley look serious and maudlin by comparison (even though he’s more-or-less maintained his original silly streak at least up to the point where he drinks the coffee).
The second reason this is so important is linked to the first. Sometime after Aziraphale starts being silly this becomes how they flirt without flirting. Aziraphale is silly and it delights and surprises Crowley (surprises in terms of he doesn’t know how Aziraphale is going to be silly today, he’s not surprised by the fact that he is silly).
We see this in 1601 with Aziraphale shouting inappropriately silly things to Hamlet and looking at Crowley whilst doing it. He’s offering Crowley his silliness as a sign of trust and something more, the subtext is, You know how to be silly, I’ve seen you be silly, I know you love silly things and I’m silly too. Crowley reacts with a look we will see from him a lot in the future, you’re being ridiculous angel. He knows it’s silly, he knows Aziraphale knows he’s silly and he knows why Aziraphale is doing it. He doesn’t laugh though because they’re already on their way to established roles in their relationship, Aziraphale is silly and Crowley rolls his eyes at it whilst secretly delighting in it (it works the opposite way too – see the fez scene where Aziraphale is the one who reacts, you can just see the start of a, “seriously, what are you doing, Crowley?” expression before the camera cuts away to Crowley’s mad moment).
The dynamic later evolves into more overt flirting. By the time Gabriel turns up Aziraphale is very definitely using his silliness to flirt. The car scene (which I’ve written more about in another post) is the most overt example of this. Crowley isn’t being walked all over here, he’s playing up to Aziraphale very obviously flirting to get his own way, and by doing so is encouraging him to keep doing it. Aziraphale starts the scene off being silly about the clue and “investigating” because he knows Crowley likes it, and then he ramps up the silliness with his voice and hand gestures the more Crowley reacts with grumpiness and refusal. That this is all an act becomes very obvious when it continues inside after Crowley has removed the plants from the car. Clearly the car borrowing is already happening at this point but Crowley continues to protest and Aziraphale continues to flirt over the issue, right up until Crowley playfully pulls the car keys away from him at the last second and turns the tables by indirectly flirting with Aziraphale via his conversation with Muriel.
One interesting question here is, do they even know they are flirting? And you know what, I’m not entirely sure. I doubt they’d describe it like that to an outsider, but what they do understand is the effect their actions have on the other one, particularly Aziraphale. He knows flirting-using-silliness is a good way to get his own way on minor issues and Crowley, possibly sub-consciously, but definitely willingly, falls into his role in that dynamic providing it’s something he feels he can give (see my other post for more on that).
So is Crowley jaded by life in season two?
Tricky one! I can see some evidence of it and I do think he’s drifting a bit aimlessly this season, with no real home, no direction and feeling generally a bit lost about his place in the world. But I also see him being quite silly, sarcastic and generally amusing throughout the season as well, and he’s definitely still enjoying Aziraphale’s silliness, right up until the ball when Aziraphale won’t listen to him because he’s too busy being giddy. Also though he literally shares a joke with Mrs Sandwich when he’s rescuing the humans from the demons and he laughs in delight when he finds out Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He’s fed up about some things, but he’s not so fed up that he’s completely lost his sparkle.
Why does Crowley seem different though? Well, Crowley, whilst definitely very much inhabiting the ‘thin dark duke’ persona in the present-day scenes, still retains a lot of his sense of humour, it’s just changed over the years. He’s more likely now to channel his silliness into sarcasm, which makes total sense – he tends to keep up with the modern world a lot more than Aziraphale does and he’s lived in Britain for a very long time and British humour is very inclined towards sarcasm, which is basically a more grown-up form of silliness. Crowley hasn’t become jaded, he’s adapted his humour to the modern British world, but also still retained some of his original inclination to just behave in bizarre and unpredictable ways (Coffee drinking! Fez wearing!) He also doesn’t need to be as silly himself now because he’s got Aziraphale, who is more than silly enough for the both of them, and Crowley loves him for it. “I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny. It’s great!”
Conclusion?
Yes, sort of! The whole thing can basically be summarised by something @ineffabildaddy said in response to my previous post. “Aziraphale and Crowley don’t just love each other, they like each other, too.” They haven’t hung around each other for 6000 years and fallen in love against their will because it’s fate or some nonsense like that – they liked each other first. They’ve always liked each other from the moment they met as angels and they have grown to like each other more at every meeting since. They like each other’s personalities, conversation, sense of humour, silliness and so much more. These are the things that bind them together.
We the audience only see their big moments, times when something happens that pushes their relationship forward (1941) or changes their sense of who they are (Job). In S1 we see them face a huge challenge together and come out the other side. What we don’t see and so what we can sometimes forget as the audience is that there is a massive amount of time in their history where these things weren’t happening, where they just met up and had normal conversations and hung out because it was fun for them to spend time together. To spend 6000 years hanging out together and still be able to find the other person interesting and funny and just generally worth being around is pretty impressive and show just how strong their relationship really is. I hope that no matter how big and dark things get in season three that we at least get some chance to watch them be silly together some more, I think they deserve it after all they’ve been through!
#good omens 2#good omens#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#ineffable fandom#crowley loves aziraphale#aziraphale loves crowley#silliness#love#aziraphale#crowley
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the art of loving you | john marino
warnings: none really, just some sweet anniversary sex between jm and his girl <3 (italics = flashback)
pairing: john marino x fem!reader
summary: “maybe he gets back from an away game and him and reader have been together for a while so when he gets home its practically desperate the way they want each other and it's like super needy but also intimate because they just know each other like the back of their hands after so long together"
wc: 2201
“Hey,” comes John’s soft voice from the darkness of the night. He kneels by your side of the bed and shakes you awake. The sunlight is starting to peek through the curtains. His thumb caresses your cheek, causing you to scrunch your nose from restlessness. “I’m headed to the rink. We’re leaving from there. I’ll be back on Monday, take you to dinner and all.”
“Mmm, okay, baby. Love you,” You slur, voice thick with sleep. You didn’t have to be up for another few hours and normally, you’d pout when John woke you up so early, but things were different. He was headed out on a week-long roadie and he had a game on the west coast on your second anniversary– meaning you two wouldn’t get to spend that together. Despite being sleepy, you pucker your lips to give John a goodbye kiss.
“Love you too,” John whispers, delicately cupping your jaw and pecking your lips twice. “Be back before you know it.”
He stands from his position next to the bed and gathers his things, heading towards the bedroom door.
“Play good,” You call out after him.
“First star every night, just for my girl,” John promises with a smile, closing the door with a soft click behind him.
A week later, John was headed back to Jersey and you had put on your favorite little black dress for your anniversary date. He hadn’t been named first star of the game during any of their games, but he had gotten one of his rare goals on your anniversary, and his celly ended in a kiss blown towards the camera that touched your heart.
You were waiting by the door when John came home and you jump him before he even gets the chance to cross the threshold.
“Hi,” John greets. “Missed you.”
“Missed you,” You reply, arms looped around his neck. You pull him into a hug, feeling his hands wrap around your waist and press your bodies flush against each other.
You two stay in the hug for a few minutes, waiting for your breath to sync and for John to start rocking you from side to side the way he always does when your touch goes on for too long. As much as he loves to touch you, he’s never been one for hugs, unlike you. To you, John’s hugs are like crack and you take your fix anytime you can get it.
“Dinner?” John asks, pulling away and rubbing your arms like he’s warming you up.
“Rezzi at the normal place,” You confirm. You give his chest a firm pat. “Go change. This is our anniversary dinner, after all. Want you to wear something nice.”
“Gonna propose to me or something?” John teases, finally letting the apartment door fall shut behind him.
You drag his suitcase to the bedroom, parking it next to the chair before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Isn’t that your job?”
“All in good time,” John replies, following you down the hall with his hockey bag over his shoulder. He opens the door to the balcony and sets his personal pads out on the chair to air out. He also sets his dirty clothes on the chair– something you’ve chided him for in the past, since he could just throw them in the wash and kill the smell that way.
You watch John change into a suit, smiling widely when he sneaks little peeks at you every few minutes.
“Really did miss you, you know,” John says, focusing on tying his tie in the mirror on the back of the closet door. “Mercer tried to sprinkle rose petals in my locker on our anniversary to make me miss you less.”
“He’s so supportive.” You laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides.
“Tried to take me to dinner too,” John continues. “Said he might as well take me out if we were going back to the hotel together anyway. What kind of girl does he take me for?”
“Maybe he was trying to recreate our love story,” You say. “It wasn’t exactly the most conventional of meetings for us. You took me for one of those girls.”
“Yeah, but you asked me what I was doing later, I was just being honest.”
“You’re lucky it worked out for you.”
John makes a kissy face at you, then walks over and reaches out to take your hand and help you up. “Dinner?” He asks.
“Let’s go,” You answer, leading him out of the bedroom and back down the hall, out of the apartment and down to the garage.
John drives, naturally. You’d appointed yourself his passenger princess long ago and he’d never asked you to drive. He orders your wine and meal for you at the restaurant, knowing that you’ll get the same thing you always get. He takes the menu away from you, too, so you can’t even pretend to peruse the offerings. He did so with a knowing look and you replied with an embarrassed smile, rolling your eyes because your boyfriend knows you so well.
When your food comes, John cuts his meat into precise cubes and you steal a piece or two off of his plate, despite the fact that you have your own food to pick at. John allows you to do so with only a few noises of protest, only a few teasing and threatening inflections of his fork at your wandering utensil.
You two make small talk– about John’s games, about your week at work, about the upcoming inspections your landlord is doing for the plumbing in your apartment after John tried (and failed) to adjust the water pressure to your liking. You’ve been in this relationship so long that you don’t need to have the deep conversations all the time, or plan out the future in a lengthy conversation over some red wine.
John is your future, and you’re his.
When you arrive home, John takes you to the bedroom and kneels at your feet, unstrapping your high heels and prying them away from you. He rubs your feet a little bit to soothe the ache of wearing heels all night, a small smile on his face the whole time. You brush his hair out of his face and take in his small details– the moles on his cheek near his mouth, the button of his nose, the scar from the stray puck that marred his skin and left behind the mark that you love to kiss.
“You look pretty down there,” You say, breaking the silence.
John shoots you a look and tries to hide his smile, hide the blush that always spreads across his cheeks when you call him pretty. He kisses your knee and rises to sit next to you on the bed. “Happy anniversary,” He says softly, like it’s a secret between the two of you.
“Happy anniversary, Johnny,” You reply. You press your lips to his, the kisses smooth and slow even as John makes his way down your neck to your shoulder.
Your movements are a language of their own. John’s fingers light fires on your arms as he feels your goosebumps. Your knee presses into his thigh, the connection of your skin on his stronger than a dam. His tongue moves against yours insistently when he makes his way back up to your mouth.
“You gonna let me fuck you like I wanted to the other night?”
You moan into John’s mouth. “Hard?”
“Mm-mm,” John hums, shaking his head. He reaches down, pulls your panties to the side, and starts to slide a finger into you. “Slow,” He breathes out, not even a hair’s distance from your lips. “I’m going to touch you everywhere, angel. You’re gonna feel every bit of me.”
“Even better,” You say. “Want you to fill me up.”
John thrusts his finger inside you and works a second in, scissoring and curling his fingers until you’re a moaning mess beside him.
Your hand is gripping his shoulder so hard that your fingernails might as well tear his shirt. You’re panting, mouth perpetually open. The pressure between your legs is insurmountable, aching and throbbing as John pulls you closer to the edge.
“Johnny, Johnny,” You plead, pushing at his arm. “Fuck me, want to come when you fuck me.”
“Finger yourself,” John commands, pulling away from you to shrug his suit jacket off. He unbuttons his top as you shove three fingers inside your cunt, hungry for more. Really, you’re keeping yourself full while he acts as eye candy. You’re not trying to chase an orgasm, like you normally are when you and Johnny fuck. No, today you’re just here, just waiting to feel his cock enter you and satisfy you in a way that your fingers never could.
He strips hurriedly, standing just mere inches from the bed. He throws the clothes around the room, not caring where they land. You track each movement, having seen his naked chest plenty of times to have it memorized by now. His underwear make their way to the arm of the chair in the corner, and it’s when you realize that he’s naked that your eyes return to his figure.
His cock is just as wonderful as ever– you’ve been in love with John for a long time, but his beautiful cock and the way he fucks you always makes you love him just a little bit more. He knows it, too, from the way he smirks at you– he knows that you love him, but if he was a shit fuck, you would tell him that you have the capacity to love him more. Maybe that’s crazy.
You pull your fingers out of your entrance and use them to spread your lips, showing John the expanse of the part of you that’s just for him.
John smiles, takes his cock in his hand, and pumps himself a few times.
You bite your lip and return his smile, watching the precum bubble and drip from his slit.
“Fuck me, J,” You beg. “Please.”
John joins you again on the bed, pushing you down onto your back and opting to forego your little black dress altogether and slide your panties down your legs instead. “You look so pretty,” John compliments.
“Thank you,” You reply, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“Wanna see how your tits bounce in this dress while I fuck you,” John continues, leaning over you on the bed and lining himself up with your core. One of his legs pins your knee to the bed, while the other stays straight and braces against the floor.
His words seem to steal all the thoughts from your mind, leaving nothing but the feeling between the two of you as he pushes the bulbous head of his cock into you.
John moves slowly, like he promised. He fills you, warms you from the inside-out. He punctuates each drag with a sharp push into your core, causing your body to shift up on the bed. He raises a hand and grasps your breast, both keeping you in place and filling his palm with one of his favorite body parts of yours.
You don’t exchange words, minus a reassuring, hushed “I know,” that drips from John’s lips and into your ear when you become close. He fishes your boob out of your dress and dips down to attach his mouth to your nipple, reaching his other hand down to soothe circles onto your clit. The added stimulation sends you into a whirlwind and John can practically feel the pitter-patter of your heart from where he’s sucking at your chest.
“Johnny,” You cry, clutching his shoulder and arching your back beneath him.
“Yeah, honey. I know, my angel,” He mumbles against your skin. He leaves burning kisses along your body up to your lips.
“Please,” You say, high strung and wanting so much that you’re almost shaking with it.
John moans, wrenching himself away from your lips to press a kiss to your cheek, then returning to your lips. His thrusts grow stuttered and desperate, no longer slow. They’re just as passionate, just as fulfilling, and John coaxes the orgasm out of you just as he unravels himself.
He holds you like you’re a precious liquid that is slipping through his fingers.
You almost want to cry from the feeling, the knowledge that you and John share so much love between the two of you and there will be nights like this for the rest of your life.
John leads you over the edge and guides you through it, holding you and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear until your breath returns to normal. He traces your cheek, then draws his fingers down your neck.
“You’re everything,” John says. “I meant it. I’m going to marry you… all in due time.”
Instead of a response, you take his hand in yours and press a kiss to the back of it. You lace your fingers together and bring your interlocked hands to your chest, resting them over your heart. All you can do, really, is smile and cuddle closer to John, feeling his heat fill the bed and making you doze off.
note: just finished watching "you've got mail" for the first time. sigh. what a movie. devastating. sooo invisible string. corporations need to stop winning.
#puck-luck's fics#john marino#john marino smut#john marino x reader#john marino x y/n#john marino x you#jm6#nhl smut#nhl x reader#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl x y/n#andy writes anything🍄
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🧸 lando’s reaction to his twins dressing up as max and daniel for halloween (like rbr suit & kangaroo costume) saying they’re their uncles😭💗 idk if he’d find it more hilarious or cute skdksks
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“I don’t understand why I have to wear this blindfold!”
“Because it’s a surprise!”
“I don’t like that you three have been conspiring behind my back!”
“I am surprised you even know what that means.”
Lando couldn’t help but let out a snort, shaking his head as he settled back in his seat. It was dress up day at the twins’ school and they had been eager to choose their costumes this year; you had told him as much on the phone whilst he was back at the factory for a few days. He had asked multiple times what the twins had chosen but you never once gave him a concise answer.
He had been eager to see the costumes this morning, only to be told he was banned from the twins’ room. Instead, he was set on the couch with a blindfold over his eyes (the twins’ request) to make sure he wouldn’t peak before they were ready.
“Okay, you ready?”
He heard some giggles and couldn’t help but let his lips twitch upwards. “Yes! Show me!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
“Go!”
It took Lando a few seconds to blink away the fuzziness as he pulled the blindfold off his head, letting his vision focus again before he was taking in the sight in front of him. Both twins stood a few feet in front of him, grinning wide and proud as they awaited his reaction.
Delilah was on the left, dark brown curls like his own poking out from the kangaroo hat that was settled on her head. Lorelai was no better, though hers was a lion instead, with a massive mane framing her round face as she smiled widely. It took him a few seconds before he looked down, seeing the mini racing suits they were wearing before it all clicked to him.
And once it had, he couldn’t help but let out a loud, boisterous laugh that the twins seemed to reciprocate.
“Oh, the boys are gonna love this!”
“Do you like it, daddy?” Delilah had asked, her eyes big, doe eyes staring at him with such eagerness.
“I love them, honey,” Lando smiled, reaching for his phone to take a picture of this scene. “And I’m sure Uncle Max and Uncle Daniel are gonna love it too.”
“The girls felt bad when they both dressed up as you last year,” you explained with an amused smile on your face. Both Max and Daniel had joked that their feelings were hurt and, with the twins having big hearts as they did, they wanted to cheer their uncles up.
“Well, you two look so much cuter than your uncles but I am sure they will love it,” Lando said to them as he reached for them both, his smile widening as they squealed when he lightly tickled their sides before hugging them close. “But we all know who the best team is, right?”
“Papaya!” They both exclaimed together.
Lando smiled proudly. “My smart girls.”
.
#cece's slumblurb party#lando norris#formula one#f1#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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“Many places I have been
Many sorrows I have seen
But I don't regret
Nor will I forget
All who took that road with me”
-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd
This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end.
Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.
It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.
Thank you.
(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)
This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out.
The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else.
It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking.
A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself.
It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking.
Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way.
It’s about love. Always.
By @toyouhellohowareyou
Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.
I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day.
But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.
The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.
You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.
The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.
Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.
Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.
Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.
But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.
I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.
And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.
By @sunny-porridge
This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.
By @life-in-winter
While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?
This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?
There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.
@needfantasticstories
Artist credit
Legend: @gia-d
Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer
Time: @toonblade
Sky: @noorahqar
Warriors: @whitewinterstar
Wild: @weavingstarlight
Twilight: @bluury2
Wind: @thewitchdoctor39
Four: @lunaopus
Red: @peepthatbish
Blue: @glowingmin
Green: @winterfen
Vio: @waterfallstream
Shadow: @deleetrix
Wolfie: @linkiscool333
Fierce Deity: @awildsilver
Ravio: @lele5429
Malon: @tooner-tastic
Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine
#linked universe#linked universe fanfic#linked universe fic#this is an Adjuration#this is an adjuration#lu legend#lu hyrule#lu four#lu red#lu vio#lu blue#lu green#lu sky#lu wild#lu warriors#lu time#lu twilight#lu wind#lu shadow#lu colors#lu fanart#lu dink#yiga clan
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heal me.
there’s a new medic in town, and ellie williams is about to find out who she is.
ellie williams x fem!reader, pt 2 here
warnings: fluff, mention of cuts/wounds, medical setting, suggestive themes. wc 1.3k
a/n: first time writing an ellie fic! if this does well i might post a second + third part <3
Ellie hated anything to do with doctors. She could take care of herself perfectly fine, she swears. But Dina witnessed her earning a nasty gash during a patrol, and wouldn’t shut up about it unless she got it checked out.
Word was that there was a new medic in town. Ellie’s pretty sure she’s seen you around Jackson. Walking around in those dumb white clothes, tending to everyone who needed you.
You’ve seen her too. Sneaking glances anytime you could. I mean, Ellie was pretty, and it was no big deal, right?
That is, until a flash of auburn hair ducks into the med clinic, and you nearly jump out of your skin.
Ellie clears her throat. “Uh… you guys are pretty much done for the night, right?”
She’s hoping you would say yes so she could just go back home and rest. Watch a movie, maybe. Have everyone fuck off and leave her alone.
You nod, clicking your pen, when you notice her clutching her side. “But I’ve got time for one more.”
You were on call, anyway, so your shift was never really over.
Fuck, she thinks. Ellie has always had trouble asking for help. She could take care of herself just fine. It didn’t help that you were so nice — nauseatingly so — but she figures that’s why you’re the town medic and she’s not.
“Follow me,” You add, motioning her over to the first room on the left. Even though meds were hard to come by, bandages were plentiful, and you weren’t gonna pass up the opportunity to tend to your crush.
Totally innocent crush.
“So, what was it?” You ask, eyes scanning over the girl as she takes a place on the edge of the hospital bed.
“Some fuckers we ran into, lone group. Nothing too serious... think they were looking to steal shit.” Ellie mutters. “But one took a swing at me and I fell on something sharp. My friend’s been bugging me to come here, get it checked out.”
Your conversation pauses as you take her vitals. Everything is in a normal range.
“The group…” You break the silence, looking down. “Are they a concern?”
“They’re gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
You felt a light blush rise on your cheeks. Ellie was so strong, and brave. It showed, even in the way she just talks about her patrols.
You flit your eyes back up, trying to refocus. “So can I see? The wound?”
“Oh. Right.” Ellie’s fingers dip down to grab the hem of her shirt, and pull up. For a moment, you only see her toned stomach. You try not to get distracted.
Then you see the bandage under her ribcage.
Your fingers are gentle when they graze over the gauze. It’s a barrier, but Ellie swears it’s like you’re touching her directly. You move to peel it off of her.
Ellie absentmindedly sucks her breath in through her teeth. You whisper a small apology.
“It’s not… bad right?” She says after a moment. “I mean, I’ve had worse.”
She made a mental note to get onto Dina. This whole thing made her look like a fucking pussy.
“I’m sure you have,” You smile meekly, examining the cut. “No… not bad.”
After washing off your hands, you pull up a chair in front of Ellie. She watches you carefully as you sigh.
“Won’t need stitches, and no signs of infection.” You add. “But I can at least disinfect it and send you off with some new dressing.”
“I mean, it’s fine, I can—“
“No, let me.” You say quickly, cutting off her retort. “You’re already here, right?”
Ellie opens her mouth, then closes it. You had a point. She merely nods instead.
You reach down for the bucket of clean water. When you come back up, you notice Ellie has removed her shirt completely. The only thing clinging to her upper body is a flimsy sports bra.
“Oh,” You all but whisper accidentally.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
The rag becomes stained as you wipe the area. A few swishes, and the water in the bucket has turned a cloudy mahogany.
“So… your friend,” You add. “Was it Dina?”
Ellie raises her eyebrows slightly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”
“She must really care about you.” You say quietly. It takes Ellie a moment to realize what you’re implying. She’s quick to answer.
“Oh, yeah. Not like that anymore, though. It’s… just friends now.”
You take that as confirmation that their relationship ended. And even though in a way you were happy to find out Ellie is now single, it would be rude not to apologize.
“Oh.” You mumble. “Sorry.”
She looks down. “It’s cool.”
You disinfect the wound with some alcohol before applying new dressing with gentle fingertips. You smile up at the brunette.
“Good as new.”
She feels herself smiling back. She wants to kick herself; she didn’t even wanna be here in the first place. But now it doesn’t feel like a mistake after all.
“Thanks,” She says. Her gaze has softened.
You grab something out of the cabinet. Ellie realizes it’s fresh bandages when you outstretch your hand to her.
“So, just… use these. Every couple hours, change it out, till it scabs over. If you ever need more you know where to get it.”
Ellie knows this. But she realizes that she likes hearing you talk, so she thinks of something else to ask.
“Uh, and how do I know what to look for? If I have an infection?”
“Oh,” You say. “Here, lay back. I’ll show you.”
Something about the way you’re hovering over Ellie has her stomach fluttering. You were so tentative. Why hadn’t she tried to talk to you sooner?
“Gotta check it everytime you change your dressing. If it smells weird, or feels hot…”
Your fingers trace over her body yet again. Her eyes are stuck on you, the way your hair falls into your face. The way your lips move to explain everything. Not to mention how soft your skin felt on hers.
She thought the whole “hot nurse” trope was something that only happened in movies. It was pretty clear now that she was wrong.
“Got it?”
“What?”
Shit. She wasn’t listening.
“Do you get it now?” You repeat, looking down at Ellie.
She blinks before propping herself up with her elbows. “Uh… yeah. Think so.”
You smile again, leaning back so you’re no longer positioned over her. You take your place against the counter.
Ellie didn’t hear a word. But she’ll make the effort now to be extra gentle with herself, because of you. If that’s worth anything.
Silence fills the room once again as Ellie pulls her shirt back over her head. You sneak in one last glimpse before she’s fully clothed.
“If something changes you can always come back and see me.” You add with a breathy laugh. “I’m in here, like, all the time.”
“Oh yeah?” She asks, looking up at you. “I’ll have to stop by again sometime, then.”
Your heart skips a beat. Is she trying to flirt with you? No, it’s probably nothing.
You clear your throat. “Hopefully not under these circumstances.”
“Right,” She says. Her eyes widen as she realized she’s extended her stay. “I’ll, um… I’ll go. Get out of your hair.”
Ellie’s never used that expression before. She nearly facepalms. So stupid.
But then you laugh a little, and it’s such a beautiful sound when it hits her ears.
“I don’t mind.” You add bashfully. “But… you need to rest and get better. Go back to kicking ass, all that stuff.”
Ellie feels her face wanting to turn red again. You were so sappy, and shameless with it. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, really. She didn’t think people like you even existed at all anymore.
She merely hums, unable to find the right words to say. If she sticks around any longer, she might actually develop feelings for you as if she hasn’t already. So she opts to bid you goodbye.
“Well… see you around.”
You nod, watching her head for the door. You hold the clipboard to your chest in an effort to soften your heartbeat.
“Night, Ellie.”
— part two
#ellie williams#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#tlou2 fanfic#ellie tlou2#the last of us
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Wine and Lies 2
summary: A dinner date turns into a heartbreak. But maybe, you could get revenge.
pairing: carlos sainz x fem! reader, charles leclerc x fem! reader
warnings: alcohol consumption, toxic relationship, cheating, sexual tension
Previously: You never imagined that Carlos, your Carlos, would do this, then lie to you. You find that her name is Rebecca. She’s a model, of course she’s a model. Why are the homewreckers always models?
Clicking onto your Instagram you find that she’s following you. Rage filled your body, along with the need to throw up.
You rush off the floor and run towards the bathroom, throwing up the appetizers and wine you had.
Your phone buzzes to life next to you, showing the caller ID of your boyfriend's teammate, and Ferrari's golden boy, a smirk spreads across your face.
If Carlos could do it, you were going to do it ten times better.
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
You swipe to accept the call, “Hey Y/n..are you alright..?” You hear Charles softly say, the tone of his voice showing he already knew Carlos had cheated.
"Y/N? You there? You alright?" he asks again having not gotten a response from you. "Yeah, sorry," you reply, sitting back down on the toilet as gently as possible. "Just a lot going on right now, I don’t know what to do."
"I know what it's like..." he says quietly, trying to be there for you though his voice still betrayed the sadness there in his voice, "I think you should probably just leave him," he says after a moment's hesitation.
“I think if I tried to, it wouldn’t work” You say truthfully, knowing you and Carlos would end up back together somehow, he would never let you leave.
“Then you should dump his ass for a better option. Like me” he says a moment of silence as if realizing what he had just said.
“I’m just kidding of course, maybe.” He sighs
Your eyes widen at his suggestion, I mean you had known Charles had a soft spot for you, and sure you found him attractive but you would have never tried anything, but now, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.
“Really?” You say teasingly, getting up from the toilet and wiping off your smudged mascara.
“If you want to leave him” he says, his tone nervous and hesitant.
“Let me take you on a date”
“A date?” You muse, fixing your mascara and applying some lip gloss. “And why should I go on a date with you?” You add on.
“Cmon you know why. I’ve always wanted to see more of you” he says, and now you can hear the smile there in his tone.
“You know Carlos is an idiot who doesn’t deserve you, I’m the best option”
“Really? And you’re sure of that?” You add on, wanting to see what else he’ll say, now touching up some of your eyeshadow.
“You name the place and I'm happy to take you” he says confidently. He knows he's a good option and he wasn't afraid to let you know it.
“Hmm well, I think I’m about to go out, I’ll send you my location soon” You say before hanging up on him.
You take your time fixing your makeup and hair, then you change into a red dress you know Carlos loves, you also know Charles would love it too.
You hear the door to your apartment slam open and shut, then footsteps lead to your bedroom, turning you see an annoyed Carlos.
“Why weren’t you at the restaurant?” He asks, his voice stern. “Because I had a much better alternative. Why did you decide to ruin us?” You say standing and looking at Carlos in anger, “I know about her, I know you slept with someone else, and I know Im better than her” you say and he looks shocked that you know.
Hearing his silence you add on, “So if you don’t mind, I’m going out”. Grabbing your purse and shoving past him.
“Where are you going?” Carlos asks angrily, grabbing your wrist and yanking you back towards him.
“It doesn’t fucking matter to you” You hiss out to him, yanking your wrist out of his grip.
“You don’t own me” You add on glaring at him. “It does matter to me” he hisses back, “ you belong to me” he says and you know just the thing to say to piss him off now.
“I belong to Charles”, you say and you immediately see a red flash in his eyes because god did he hate being compared to Charles.
“So go seek out Rebecca, I’m sure she’d love to hear you complain” You add on, opening the door to your apartment and shutting it behind you as you walk off to a nearby club.
You get a call a few minutes later, a call you know who it is from. It's Charles but before answering you decide to enjoy the power trip of letting him wonder why you aren't answering.
You arrive at the club and instantly beeline to the bar, ordering a gin tonic.
Grabbing your phone from your purse you text Charles your location with no further explanation, excited to get your revenge.
It’s not long before he arrives, the club a bit quieter than others but still pretty busy he finds you and comes over and orders himself a vodka tonic.
“Hey” he says smiling at you, as he takes a sip from his drink, his eyes wandering as he takes you in.
“Hi..” You say with a smirk, slowly checking him out as you sip at your drink.
"God, you look even better than I imagined" he says, taking another sip of his drink and getting a bit closer to you.
"I'm glad Carlos is an idiot, otherwise I might not have been able to see you tonight" he says teasingly.
“That makes two of us then..” You say softly, moving in closer to him as you place your hand on his arm, knowing that someone will probably be taking pictures, which is exactly what you want.
He feels your touch and he smirks, his eyes darting across you, imagining what he'd like to do with you, how you'd feel like in his arms, and his hands.
"Shall we get out of here?" he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Let’s stay awhile, no need to rush anything..” You whisper back, drinking some of your gin tonic, needing the alcohol.
"You're right" he says, and he puts his arm around your back leaning in close. His eyes wander down your body, and you want to kiss him. You want to feel his breath on your neck, his lips on your skin.
He notices where your eyes go to and he looks back up at you, you're so close now and you smell good. He moves in slowly, his lips so close to yours.
With a smirk you pull away from him, “Let’s go dance” You say, finishing off your gin tonic you place the empty glass on the bar and leave some cash for the bartender.
You walk away from Charles, making your way to the dance floor area. It was relatively crowded and the music had gotten louder, almost to the point you couldn’t really hear anyone else.
Charles follows you closely looking at your body as he sees it sway with each move you make, the music drowning out everything else and all there is left is the sound of your breathing, and your heartbeat.
He gets close to you once again this time pressing his chest to your back, the heat between the both of you intense. His hands travel to your waist, guiding your hips against his.
You can feel his hard chest against you, his hands on your waist, a low groan leaves him as he guides your hips against his, moving in time with you, as you both move your bodies against each other.
“This is perfect,” he says softly in your ear. “It is..” You say, forgetting about Carlos, solely focused on Charles.
“How long have you wanted this?” he asks softly, his voice low, only you can hear it in the loud club.
“How long have you wanted me?” he adds, his voice sounding almost demanding.
“Tell me.”
“Months..” You whisper out, but that wasn’t the truth. You knew that this, between you and Charles, was just to get at Carlos.
But who’s to say you couldn’t have your fun with it? Charles is, after all, an attractive guy. And you had a soft spot for him. You knew you already had him wrapped around your pinky, just like Carlos. It was time for you to have your fun.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
radio 🪩: So excited to get this series started! 💙
taglist: @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @roseseraj
next part
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Ya know we have a lot of the chain ‘he realizes he’s in love’ but what about when he realizes YOU’RE in love with him? Maybe they catch you looking love struck at them, or a breathless praise cause he’s so pretty, just all sound saps
Sure thing!!
Masterlist
Part One will include Twilight, Four and Sky. :D
Content under the cut!
Twilight
Twilight was in the middle of washing some gunk off of his shirt down the river when he figured it out.
Granted, he was in denial for a good part of the week afterwards but he always got a little doe-y eyed in heart when he thought about it again.
He didn't think much of it when you were doing the rest of the laundry with him a little way away form him. Twilight was too busy trying to actually do a half decent job to notice it at first.
Then he looked your way, wondering if you were having as much luck as he was.
He wasn't prepared for the expression that was waiting for him when he turned.
Your eyes were soft, and your smile was so subtle that it looked as if you were viewing him for the first time with quiet awe and adoration. Your mouth was slightly open and your entire stance was relaxed and calm. The laundry you had in your hand was about to be taken down the river if you weren't paying attention.
His heart jumped to his throat and he suddenly felt self conscious that you were staring at him for who knows how long. He had forgotten entirely the task at hand. He wasn't expecting this.
Twilight felt his mouth go a little dry as he stared back at you. His face grew warm at the thought that you were looking at him this way. And what else would be looking at?
The only person was Legend, but he's behind you. And he's too busy trying to fix up one of Hyrule's tunics to pay attention to either of you.
Twilight feels his expression soften. Oh, how he's wanted to be the one who you looked at this way. Is real life? Are you really that enamored by him? Are his eyes deceiving him?
"Hey." He calls to you softly.
It seems to break you out of whatever trance you ended up in. You drop the laundry and you take a poor step back. Luckily you seem to catch yourself before you fall into the water but clearly you're more than embarrassed at being caught.
You're face goes bright red and you laugh nervously in an attempt to play it off.
Twilight's heart flutters at the thought. The tiniest light of hope shines through.
He winks at you.
You grow bashful and he think he might just have to talk some more when you're both done with your chores.
Four
It took him an embarrassingly long time to figure it out.
It was less him figuring it out and more so, someone telling it to his face. Directly. Bluntly. And it still didn’t click.
“They like you.”
Four just looks at them with wide eyes- no thoughts in his head. “I mean... I’d hope so? I like them too... You’re supposed to like to your friends.”
A small twang strikes him in the heart at his own words. He feels like an idiot for saying them anyway. Despite their truth, he wishes you would look at him in the way he looks at you. With tenderness and desire. With hopes and quiet confessions. With dreams and unspoken promises.
”No Four.” They grit their teeth, trying their best to remain patient. “The-want-to-hold-you-hand kind of like you.”
Four bite his teeth, feeling his heart start pounding in his chest. A soft blush comes over his cheeks. Wouldn’t that be nice? Just to hold your hand. He thinks it would be very soft. Much different than his callused hands from the forge work and his swordsmanship. “It’s not like anything is stopping them, right? I wouldn’t mind it.”
If anything he would quite welcome it.
“You’re so dumb.” They groan, smacking their forehead and dragging their hands down their face. “They blush whenever they see you! How do you not see that?!”
“What are you talking about?” Four rubs the back of his neck, feeling like he’s missing some very vital information.
“They love you!”
“Well I love them too!” Four starts to get defensive. “What does that have to do with anything?!”
“Not platonically, idiot!”
“Then in what other way-”
“They want to kiss you. They want to go out on dates. They want to get married and grow old and have a garden outside the house with a white picket fence- I don’t know!” They shout, all ounce of patience lost. “But so help me, we’re all tired of seeing you two dance around each other like awkward teenagers.”
Four clenches his jaw at that. “So what if we are? How can you just say-”
“They! Are! IN LOVE! With YOU!” They give up, grabbing Four by the shoulders and shake him with emphasis on every beat of their sentence. “GODDESS!!!”
Four is set back a few steps with the strength they all but launch him back with. Four only stares at them dumbly. The words take a minute to process through his skull. “...They do?”
His friend all but collapses to their knees with their hands grabbing fistfuls of hair in frustration. ”YES!”
The blush on Four’s face grows ten fold as he looks not to subtle at the direction where he knows you’re at. He hopes that you’re far enough away where this whole ordeal was out of ear shot.
“...oh...”
“YES!”
Sky
Sky wasn't sure what to think about this new development. Could he dare to hope? Would it amount to anything? Would he be at risk of ruining it all if he were to act on his suspicions?
You had begun to act more and more shy around him. Which... didn't work for him if wanted to spend more and more time by your side.
Sky was curious about your escalating change in behavior.
It was time to experiment.
He tried to set up circumstances that would get the two of you together and alone. Just so he could try little things and see your reactions. He wanted to have some sort of foundation for his suspicions and the confidence to be able to act on them.
A small brush of your hair here, nudging your hands together there- just little touches- little gestures. He brought you a flower. He saved you a seat. He'd compliment your appearance when he noticed you doing something new.
Sky tried to watch your reaction each and every time. You always seemed to be happier and you'd blush softly each and everytime.
It gave him hope.
It gave him the strength needed to not only work up the courage to do more and more for you but to do something about it.
Sky knew that the others were catching on to what he was doing. But no was willing to stop him, which only furthered his suspicions that you have somewhat reciprocated his feelings.
"Ok." You looked at the map in your hands. "If we went north then we can eventually hit the river, then we can gather up enough water for the group and maybe clean up some of the clothes that were damaged in the last battle."
"Sounds good to me." Sky grinned and put a hand on your shoulder. You bite your lip and blushed. With a small smile, you turn to him and fold up the map.
You provided him with the perfect opportunity. He leans in, kissing you cheek casually. "Let's go."
You tensed up, blushing even more.
Sky walks around you, keeping his hand on your shoulder. He smirks to himself and keeps walking. If he focuses long enough he thinks he can hear the way your brains fries.
He spins on his heel and tries to fix his face into a less mischievous look. You're completely red, but smiling to yourself.
Ok, yeah- he's not going to get smacked for that. He can live with this.
In fact- he's all for it. Rooting for you, even.
If you like him, then he can die a very happy man.
Part 2
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Christmas & New Years
Part 3 - Fire on Fire Series
A/N: Don't know how I feel about this chapter but I hope you like it
You were sitting in the gym with some of the girls, they were all discussing their Christmas plans.
“What are you doing for Christmas? You won’t be alone will you?” Steph asked.
“No, I won’t be. Tante booked me a flight to Paris, so I’m going to Paris. I think we are doing Christmas day with some of Tante’s family.”
“Paris, wow, do you know French?” Kim asked, “Yeah, I do, we actually speak a mix of Swedish, French and English at home.” You all continued talking about Christmas and New Years, and everyone's plans and traditions until it was time for everyone to head out to the pitch.
____
You were about to board your flight when your phone lit up.
From Leah:
Safe travels x (Tell me when you land)
To Leah:
Thank you. You too x
Your flight to Paris was pretty uneventful, thankfully, there were no children in your part of the aircraft, although that was probably due to the fact your Tante insisted on buying you a first class ticket, but you couldn’t really complain about the complimentary glass of champagne.
Tante and Moster picked you up from the airport and as you were sitting in the back seat you messaged Leah.
“Who are you messaging?” Moster asked, “No one,” you replied, brushing it off, “It doesn’t seem like a no one, have you met someone?” you looked up from your phone and glared at her at the words, “Well that answers my question,” she said smugly.
“Leave her alone babe,” Tante told her off, “Yeah Moster,” you said as Tante rolled her eyes and playfully stuck her tongue out at you. “Such children, the both of you,”
______
You and Leah had a lot more conversations between each other at the training grounds and you found talking with her really easy, you wouldn’t even talk about anything important or useful just random conversations, and slowly over the days you found yourself messaging with Leah more and more, having taken to phone calls most nights. You couldn’t figure out your feelings for her, was she just a friend to you or did you want something more, and you couldn’t decipher her feelings for you.
“How did you know? Like how do you know if someone is the one for you? I haven't known her for long but it feels different, like we talk all the time, and some nights we call each other and talk before we go to sleep. Just it wasn't long between when you both met and got married, so like how do you know, how do you know it’s not just a good friendship and you’re not just reading too much into it?” you blurted out
“I mean it’s different for everyone, but I guess you could say it feels easy, and you can talk to them without it being weird or awkward but you can also sit in silence and it's fine too. It’s kind of like a good friendship but with different feelings.” Moster explained.
“How do you know her? Do you play with her?” Tante asked, “Yeah,” you said as you nodded, “and so I don’t want to just be like reading too much into it and then it get awkward, like obviously I’m going to wait longer to say anything to her about it, but some of the girls have said they think she has a crush on me, but I don’t know if that’s true.”
“Just wait, take your time, if she does like or love you she won't mind waiting, aren’t you doing a preseason camp with the team?” “Yeah, and I think she is my roommate, they’ve given us draft plans in terms of roommates and schedules and currently it says she’s my roommate.”
“Well you’ll find out a lot more then, and even if it end ups that you don’t like each other you could still have a good friendship,” you nod and smile, “Thank you,”
______
Leah sat on the bench as her Mum baked some biscuits, talking away, discussing many things that had happened in their lives recently.
“Have you met someone? You seem different and you’re always on your phone,” Amanda asked her daughter.
“Um, I guess, the new signing, she is really nice and I feel like we just clicked, like it’s so easy to talk to her and she cares about things you say and actually remembers the details, she is very attentive.” Leah said as her Mum watched her expression change as she spoke about this girl.
“That’s good Bubba, go for it, but just don’t jump the gun too fast, and as always remember that if it doesn’t work out she could still end up being a really great friend,” The blonde nodded at her Mum as she slightly bit her bottom lip.
______
You had planned to spend New Year's Eve alone, having just arrived back from Paris that night you weren’t up for the party Beth and Viv were hosting, you had been invited many times by them and Beth promised you it wouldn't be awkward even though you hadn’t spent much time with any of the team but that wasn’t what you were worried about, you were more worried about the ones you had spent quite some time talking to. Leah had invited you, or more asked you to come to the party and to be honest you were nervous, you didn’t want Leah to have any expectations and you also didn’t want to do something you would regret. However after the multitude of Beth’s messages you decided to go, even if you only stayed for a few minutes. It only took you three minutes to get there, as you were still dressed from your flight.
“Y/N you came!” A very excited Leah said as she opened the door, before she dragged you by the wrist to where the countdown was happening.
“Happy New Year, Y/N/N,” she spoke loudly as she pulled you in for a hug, to which you returned.
#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#arsenal wfc#awfc#awfc x reader#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#wosoamazing fireonfire
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Wildest Dreams - Part Two
Word Count: 4.1k
Themes: fluff, pining, tension
Summary: Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate.
Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 25/26 years old
Find Part One here
Sebastian apparted them to a quiet hillside with a beautiful, large cottage resting at the top. Although it was dark out, the faint light coming from the full moon allowed Y/N to see the intricate stonework of the L-shaped house and the garden that lay outside that was obviously well taken care of. She couldn’t see it, but she could hear the gentle swell of the ocean and smell the salt in the air.
“Where are we?”
“Ominis and Anne’s house.” He turned to hold his hand out for hers before guiding them forward slowly. “I moved in so I could help Anne with her pregnancy and the first few months with the baby. They live in that section of the house, but they’re hopefully fast asleep.”
“Trying to sneak me in like a late night conquest?”
“First, you would never be a conquest to me.” The look Sebastian sent her sent a flash of heat through Y/N’s body that warmed her all the way to her toes. “Second, is it that bad I want you to myself for a while before my sister steals you from me?”
“Ah yes, the infamous Sallow charm,” she gave him a teasing smile as he led her inside, a hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the dark interior and into the kitchen. With a slight wave of his hand the lamps that were dotted around the room came to life, revealing a figure sitting at the table.
“Fuck - Ominis!” Sebastian glared at his brother-in-law. “What have I told you about sitting around in the dark?”
“Is it dark?” Ominis tilted his head to the side. “I couldn’t tell.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his words despite her heart still racing and he turned his head in her direction curiously. “Y/N? Is that you?” He stood up and made his way over to them, one hand skirting along the table to help him navigate.
“It’s good to see you again, Ominis.” Y/N pulled him into a tight hug before releasing him and taking a step back so she stood next to Sebastian again.
“I’d say the same but…” He chucked at his own poor joke and held his hands out to her, a silent request to trace her features. Y/N took his hands and placed them on her face, her eyes slipping closed as his fingers moved over the scar on her temple. “Still starting fights?”
“Does it really matter who started it as long as I finish them?”
“No, I suppose not.” Ominis released her face and took a small step back. “Why are you back so early?”
“It got boring,” Sebastian shrugged and leant against the kitchen wall, his gaze not leaving Y/N.
“So you decided to steal the guest of honour as you left?”
“I’ve got to be a bad influence on her somehow for old times sake.”
“Hm.” Ominis didn’t exactly sound pleased, but Y/N could see the smile on his face. “I’m going to head to bed. I assume you’ll be spending the night, so I’ll see you at breakfast, Y/N.”
“That’s a bit presumptuous.”
“Am I wrong, though?” Ominis offered her a wry smile before making his way up the staircase located in the back corner of the kitchen. Y/N heard a soft click as a door closed and Sebastian came to stand behind her.
“Do you want to get out of this dress?” Y/N turned to look up at him with raised eyebrows and watched his face turn red. “I didn’t - I mean, I wouldn’t mind but that’s not…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What I meant was, do you want me to lend you something to wear?”
“Yes, please.” Sebastian stopped to grab a bottle of firewhiskey from the cupboard, as well as two glasses, before leading her out of the kitchen and to the right, through what Y/N assumed was the living room. There was another staircase on this side of the house and Sebastian ushered her up and pointed her in the direction of his room. Y/N closed the door behind them as he walked over to his dresser and set their drinks down before rummaging through one of the drawers.
“I can’t give you anything of Anne’s without waking her up, is this alright?” Sebastian pulled out a long sleeved shirt and some pyjama bottoms for her.
“Only if you help me out of this dress,” Y/N watched as Sebastian visibly gulped and his face and neck turned a brilliant shade of red. She turned her back to him and brushed her hair out of the way to show him the small buttons that ran up the back of the dress. “Please?”
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Save the theatrics for when I’m in your clothes.”
“Darling,” Sebastian groaned, his hands coming to rest on her waist from behind. “When I asked you to flirt with me I didn’t think it would be like this.”
“Like what?” Y/N brought her hands up to hold the bodice of her dress in place as Sebastian began to undo her buttons, his fingers brushing against every inch of exposed skin in a way that set Y/N’s nerves on fire.
“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
“I did warn you,” Y/N laughed quietly as she felt him undo the last of the buttons.
“You did,” he agreed, voice low as he trailed a finger down her spine softly. “Is it later?”
“Give a girl the chance to get dressed first, Sallow.”
“Oh right. Yes. I’ll - hallway?” Sebastian stammered, one finger pointing at the door behind them. Y/N bit her lower lip to hold back a smile as she took in how flustered he was. It was a rare sight (in fact, she didn’t think she had ever seen it before) and it brought a sense of gratification knowing she was the one who had turned the charming man into a stuttering mess.
“Just turn around.” Sebastian nodded once before turning his back to her, resting his head on the wall gently. Y/N quickly shed the dress and pulled on Sebastian’s clothes, pulling a face as she tried to hitch the pants up as far as she could. “I feel like a child playing dress up.” Sebastian chuckled and turned back around to face her, his eyes darkening as they roamed over her. “I look ridiculous.”
“You look ravishing.”
“Oh shush,” Y/N turned her back to him so he couldn’t see her blush and poured out two drinks for them while he quickly changed as well. She picked the pins out of her hair while she waited for him and took a sip of the firewhiskey to steady her hands as she listened to him shuffle out of his clothing. She didn’t dare move until he came to stand behind her, his hand resting on her waist gently as he leant over to grab his glass. Y/N grabbed the bottle and her own glass before taking a seat on the bed and crossing her legs so she could face him.
“To us,” Sebastian toasted.
“To later,” Y/N clicked her glass against his and took another sip of the drink. The liquid burned the back of her throat, but warmed the rest of her body and gave her the surge of confidence she needed. “You said earlier you always wanted to kiss me. How long have you felt that way?”
“Since fifth year.”
“Sebastian, that was ten years ago!”
“What can I say? I’ve always known what I wanted.” The look he gave her offered more heat than the drink and Y/N found herself drinking a little more to calm her nerves.
“Am I just a want to you?”
“No. Definitely not.” He brushed some hair from her eyes. “You are everything to me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“How long have you felt the same?”
“Since fifth year,” Y/N murmured shyly. She had assumed all of the under-the-radar flirting he had done back in school was just a part of his charm and that he was the same with all the other girls, but that hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him all the time. It had only gotten worse the more time she spent with him and she started to realise that not only was he charming to a fault, but he was also kind and smart and funny and flawed.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Touché.” They sat in a comfortable silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. “I wouldn’t mind either, by the way.”
“Mind what?” he asked. Y/N gave him a look and waited for the sickle to drop. It took him a moment to recall the words he had said in the kitchen, how he wouldn’t mind getting her out of her dress in a less than pure sense. “Oh. Oh.” He tilted her chin up gently, his fingers brushing along her jaw in a way that made it feel like every inch of her was on fire. “While I would love nothing more, we have all the time in the world for that later, darling. Plus, it would probably be better to wait until we don’t have to be quiet because my sister and best friend are sleeping a few doors down.”
“Silencing charms were invented for a reason.”
“And you call me the rake.” He took her empty glass and set it on the bedside table next to his, turning back around just in time to catch her stifling a yawn. “Oh I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Y/N nudged him and looked like she was about to snap back at him but instead let out another yawn before groaning dramatically and flopping onto the bed so she was laying down. Sebastian brushed some hair from her forehead, his fingers lingering on the mark on her temple gently. “Do you want me to leave you to sleep?”
“No, stay. Please?” The look on her face melted his heart and he couldn’t find it in him to say no. Instead he lay down himself and covered them both with the blanket before rolling over to face Y/N and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.
“Get some sleep, darling. I’m right here.”
*~*~*~*~*
Sebastian woke up to the sunlight streaming in through a small gap in his curtains and looked down at Y/N, who was still fast asleep beside him. At some point in the night she had curled up to his side, her head nearly resting on his shoulder as she slept peacefully. He gently brushed some hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek for longer than necessary. He watched as she began to stir and her eyes fluttered open to look at him.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” Y/N smiled shyly and Sebastian was delighted to notice a faint flush on her face. He brushed her cheek gently, a teasing smirk on his face as her blush deepened.
“I could get used to this,” Sebastian trailed his fingers up her jaw slowly, moving round to the back of her neck before lightly running down her back.
“Get used to what?”
“Waking up beside you.” He rested his hand on her lower back and gently pulled her closer. Y/N buried her face into the pillow and pulled the blanket up to cover her face. “Where have you gone?” he laughed, trying to tug the duvet away from her.
“It’s too early for you to be this charming.”
“I’m always charming.” He succeeded in getting the blanket away from her and was rewarded by her demure smile. “You, on the other hand, could do with being a lot less gorgeous first thing in the morning. How is that fair?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his response, her hand hesitantly trailing over his bicep. She watched his throat bob as she lightly traced her way over his collarbone and came to rest over his thundering heart.
“Nervous?” she asked innocently, a coy smile playing on the edge of her mouth. “Pretty woman in your bed, and all that?”
“Darling,” his voice was considerably lower and he reluctantly removed his hand from her back to hold hers against his chest. “I thought we cleared up last night that you’re the only woman I want in my bed.”
“All you said was you wanted to kiss me since fifth year.”
“I’m pretty sure I followed that with telling you that you mean everything to me.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully and tugged her closer, her body pressed against his in a way that set every nerve ending on edge. “Were you not listening to me?”
“My mind was occupied.”
“With what?” he asked. Her answering grin and raised eyebrow was nothing short of wicked and Sebastian felt his heart stutter in his chest. Y/N laughed quietly and wound her hand up his chest to play with the hair on the back of his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I’d say I’m sorry but - ”
“Sebastian, are you awake?” There was a gentle knock on his door. Y/N froze, her eyes going wide as Sebastian groaned quietly, his eyes sliding shut.
“I’m up, Anne. I’ll be out in a moment.” His forehead came to rest on her shoulder and she could hear him mutter about his sister’s poor timing.
“I’m about to do the washing, do you need anything cleaned?” Anne tried to open his door. “Why is your door locked?” Sebastian rolled out of bed, moving faster than Y/N had seen him before, waving his wand to unlock the door.
“Must have just been stuck,” he opened the door to greet his sister, his frame blocking her view of the room, and more importantly her still in his bed. “Nothing needs cleaning, I’ll be down in a moment.”
“Why are you being strange?”
“I’ve not long woken up, Anne, give me a break.”
“Is there someone in your room, Sebastian?”
“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Morning everyone.” Y/N felt herself physically cringe as Ominis joined the twins in the hallway. “Is everything alright?”
“Sebastian has someone in his room.”
“Anne,” he groaned and lightly banged his head on the doorframe, “no I don’t.” Y/N didn’t need to be able to see through doors to know Ominis was tilting his head to the side.
“Good morning, Y/N.”
“Morning,” she grimaced and climbed out of the bed to stand by Sebastian, attempting to tame her hair as she did so. Anne looked surprised to see her and although Ominis was looking slightly to her right, she could still see the smirk on his features that was meant for her. “It’s good to see you both again.”
“A bit presumptuous, was I?” Ominis chuckled and placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “Come, my love, Sebastian can show Y/N where she can freshen up for breakfast before we accost them.” He pulled her back down the hall gently, shooting a glance at the pair before they both went down the stairs.
“Well,” Sebastian let out a breath. “There goes my plan to pretend I asked you round for breakfast this morning.” His face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No harm, no foul. Although, I feel like Anne is currently assuming the worst of me.”
“She would never.” Sebastian’s voice was full of conviction, as if it was a ridiculous notion that Anne would ever think of her poorly. “By the time we make it downstairs she’ll be over the shock and will probably be telling me I told you so over breakfast.” He led her down the hall, showing her where she could freshen up before shutting the door quietly behind her. Y/N moved as quick as she could, splashing water on her face to remove the traces of makeup she had forgotten to remove the night before and tying her hair in a simple braid. She made her way back to Sebastian’s room when she was done and walked in without knocking, her eyes going wide at the sight in front of her.
“Sorry!” Y/N’s face burned as she turned around and pressed her forehead to the cool wall as she covered her eyes. Sebastian laughed from behind her and stepped close, his finger running down her spine gently before he turned her back around.
“All of those flirtatious remarks last night and you go the colour of a Gryffindor’s robes when you see me without a shirt on?” Sebastian teased, grasping her chin gently so he could angle her face towards his. “You’ve seen me like this before.” Y/N couldn’t help but look back down at his bare torso, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging from his shoulders. The fluttering in her stomach that seemed to appear whenever Sebastian was around had turned into a full-fledged swarm as a kaleidoscope of butterflies ran amok within her.
“No I haven’t.” She made herself look back up and above his head so she wouldn’t have to see the shit-eating grin on his face.
“Yes you have,” Sebastian chuckled and tried to meet her eyes again. “Or do you not remember the day I saved your life in the lake?” The confidence he exuded with the sentence made Y/N eyes snap back to his, a glare on her features as she flicked him in the arm.
“I think we remember that day very differently, considering I wouldn’t have needed saving if you had just trusted me.”
“You were swimming into a whirlpool in the middle of the lake, you’re lucky you didn’t drown.”
“There was a cave there! If anything, what nearly made me drown was some buffoon clinging onto me as we both went under.”
“This buffoon pulled you out into said cave.”
“And right into a spider den,” Y/N laughed as he shuddered at the memory and belatedly noticed that her hand was on Sebastian’s chest, her fingers tracing over a raised mark on his right pectoral. “What’s this?”
“Oh,” Sebastian chuckled nervously and placed his hand over hers, hiding the mark from view. “You’re going to laugh.”
“Probably.” She swatted his hand away and stood a little closer, her finger moving along the curved line slowly. “Is this…?”
“Yes,” he sighed in defeat and gave her a sheepish smile. “Ominis and I thought it would be fun to try and give each other tattoos when we turned eighteen after leaving school. You can probably tell we didn’t do a very good job of it.” That was the understatement of the year. The mark held no ink, and if anything, it looked more like an old faded scar than a tattoo. Y/N tilted her head as she traced the shape again, a sly smile on her face.
“So you both decided that out of all the things you wanted permanently etched to your skin you wanted the snake from the Slytherin crest?” Her lip twitched as Sebastian nodded bashfully and she repressed the urge to laugh.
“Does Ominis have a matching one?”
“His took a little better because of his pale skin - the prick - but yes, he does. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
“What did Anne have to say about this?”
“Oh, she was furious. Kept telling us how only criminals and people in the circus marked themselves like this.” Y/N finally let the laughter bubble out as she imagined Anne reprimanding the pair and they both more than likely stood there and took it like scolded school boys. Sebastian’s features softened at her laugh, his heartbeat picking up speed as Y/N began to subconsciously trace shapes between the freckles that covered his chest.
“You know, I’ve always wondered how far that blush goes,” Y/N commented innocently, her finger winding its way down his chest slowly. Sebastian gulped as she came to a stop at the bottom of his sternum and gave him a demure smile. “I didn’t think it would be here.”
“Where did you think it would stop?”
“I’ve always pictured you with a full-body blush.”
“You’ve pictured me?”
“Mhm.” The light movement of her fingers on his bare skin burned as she slowly trailed between each freckle on his chest. He knew she could feel how embarrassingly fast his heart was beating in his chest but he didn’t care. He was enamoured by her and he didn’t care who knew it. He brought a hand up to rest on the back of her neck, gently pulling her forward until there was little space left between them as he tangled his fingers through her hair. “Seb?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Are you ever going to kiss me?”
“Would you like it if I did?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” He laughed as she rolled her eyes at him and wound an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Y/N cocked her head to the side, remembering that smile on his face from their fifth year. More often than not it meant trouble, but sometimes, like right now, he paired it with the same look on his face that he had right now. One that was almost soft.
“Use your words, darling. What do you want?” He brushed his thumb across her lower lip as he leant towards her, his forehead resting on hers. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and tried to close the gap between them to kiss him, but Sebastian pulled back fractionally, amusement sparkling in his eye as her frown deepened and a gorgeous pout fell on her lips. “Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?”
“Apart from earlier when you had me in your bed?”
“I believe the word I used then was gorgeous.”
“Well, if you want to be pedantic about it. Not since last night.”
“You did look beautiful last night,” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, his nose bumping hers softly, “I think this version of you is my favourite, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Right now, first thing in the morning. Barely awake and tucked to my side…” Y/N brought both of her hands up to rest on his chest as Sebastian’s grip tightened on her waist, her fingers brushing his collarbone delicately. “I meant what I said earlier. I could get used to waking up beside you. Every day.”
“For how long?”
“For the rest of our lives.” Y/N’s breathing stilled at his words, at the raw emotion and sincerity on his face as he spoke. She felt the back of her eyes burn and tried to look away but he held her in place and kissed her cheek gently. “Do you know what you do to me? How completely and hopelessly you enrapture me? You’re bewitching.”
“Was that a pun?”
“Shall I use a different word?” he murmured. His thumb stroked her cheeks gently, her skin burning in its path. “You’re exquisite, flawless, downright ethereal.”
“Seb…”
“From that very first day you smiled at me, you had me. I fell for you harder and faster than anyone I’ve ever met before. My heart was yours before I knew nothing more than your name.”
“My heart is yours too, you walnut. It’s only ever been yours. From the very first moment.”
“I adore you, Y/N Y/L/N.”
He finally closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers so gently that Y/N thought her heart would burst out of her chest. She wound her hands up and into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as she kissed him back and he nipped at her lower lip. His grip on her waist tightened pleasantly, holding her body against his so every inch of them was touching, and Sebastian swore he had died when she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and ran her fingers down his back. They broke away as Ominis called for them from downstairs, both of their faces tinged pink as they took in each other’s swollen lips and tousled hair. Sebastian leant back in to press one more sweet, toe-curling kiss on her lips.
“I’m going to marry you one day,” he muttered against her lips, his mouth curling into a smile as he heard her breath hitch.
“I’ll be the one in white.”
Epilogue
#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow x y/n#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fluff#sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x fem!reader#hogwarts game#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts#hogwarts legacy#awkwardauthormasterlist#awkwardauthorwrites#awkwardauthor
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