#not that he's not a big dummy at heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kitten4sannie · 4 months

Text

pairing: ex! san x fem! reader feat. wingman seonghwa and instigator mingi

genres: omg actual plot ??, exes to lovers, romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff, an attempt at humor, smut finale

summary: during a winter getaway with your friends, you end up having to come face to face with Choi San, the man who broke your heart in two just last christmas.

w.c: 8.2k

tags: features the unholy trinity: misunderstandings/miscommunication/messiness, drama (i bring drama-ma-ma-ma~), alcohol use, mutual jealousy, mutual pining, lots of banter, third parties, poor sannie and reader are just two big dummies with even bigger hearts </3,, like 20 flashbacks (okay it’s like 2 but i like being dramatic sue me), too many winter analogies, insecurities, confessions, l bombs, tears, all that jazz

warnings: soft dom! san (literally the softest dom to ever exist IM SICK), subby! reader, pussydrunk san and cockdrunk reader (like these mfs are so desperate for each other it’s actually disgusting), dirty talk, pet names, praise, possessiveness, kissing, a lot of spit (leave me alone!!!), tit play, grinding, body worship, oral (receiving), passionate condomless lovemaking by the fire baybeeeee, breeding kink, bulge kink, creampies

a/n: so i listen to last christmas religiously every year and while i was jamming my hamster brain was like “WRITE WRITE WRITE” so i diddd and yeahh this happened??? lmao but fr this was the most fun i’ve ever had writing since feb filth fest…. like wtf. i gotta write plot forward fics more often this shit’s like a drug man. anyways i hope you enjoy my dear lovelies <33

*shoutout to my sweetheart bunbun @cottoncandy-girl for beta reading and hyping this fic up during the writing process. i would’ve second guessed myself twice as much if not for you. you’re a lifesaver!! mwah mwah ~~

song rec for the general vibe: last christmas by wham obv <3, fool by frankie cosmos, snowfall (slowed and reverb) by oneheart, know me by gemini, easily by bruno major, flowers and chocolate by eyedress

angst: pleaser by the wallows, do me right by gemini, homesick by wave to earth, cherie by hojean

smut: mice city by hotel ugly, between your thighs by jimmy brown, lock me in by hojean, touch by keshi, your love by brb

Masterlist

“Hey, Y/N,” your best friend began, walking around the side of your beat-up car to the trunk where you were busy shoving various suitcases and bags into the small space and trying to make them fit. “So, don’t get mad, but–”

With a case of wine bottles in hand, you slowly set it down on the lip of the trunk, side-eyeing your friend with the intensity of a thousand suns. It was so powerful, it’d probably melt the snow that had been falling around your feet for the past thirty minutes. “Why would I be mad? What’s going on?”

“Just breathe for me, okay?” she sighed, bringing a hand up to play with a few strands of her hair. “So, you know how Seonghwa’s coming up to the cabin with us?”

“Um, yeah…? I don’t care about you bringing your boyfriend with us, you know. Just let me know if you’re gonna fuck so I can put my headphones on,” you replied, lifting the case up and pushing it inside the empty space of the trunk, satisfied that your long game of tetris was finally complete.

She quickly waved her hands, shaking her head. “No, that’s not…” she started, taking in a deep inhale, before letting it out, a wave of condensation hitting the cold air between the two of you. “He invited…someone. Someone you know.”

You bent down into the trunk to move a few items around, making sure they wouldn’t collapse on each other. “Okay? I only know you and a few other people, bestie. Who could it possibly be–”

“It’s San,” she finally blurted out, her face scrunching up in anticipation of your reaction.

Once your ex was spoken into existence again, a flood of memories from the previous year bombarded your defenseless brain and heart, causing you to stand up so quickly, you hit your head on the edge of the trunk lid.

“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” your friend gasped, already at your side, helping you stand up straight and placing her hand on the one you had held against the back of your head.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I think that just knocked all the bad memories out of my brain. Ready to head out?” you chimed, giving her a thumbs up with your keys in hand, stumbling a bit in place, your vision fading out slightly.

Sighing, your friend reached for the keys. “Yeah, I’m driving.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Your friend pulled her keys out of the ignition once she parked in a free space near the cabin you’d both be staying at, turning her head to observe the way you were playing with the drawstrings of your joggers with a pout on your sullen face. “Y/N, are you sure you’re okay? You know, we’re visiting everyone else later, so you can always stay at their cabin, if you’d like. It’s much bigger and has wifi, and definitely won’t have S–”

“I’m not a little bitch,” you suddenly whined, your eyebrows furrowed, your pout growing. “I can handle being in the same cabin with my dumbass ex, okay? I don’t even care that he’s here, actually.”

She nodded her head knowingly, giving you a gentle smile. “Just let me know if you’re uncomfortable, please. And if he starts up with one of his…unique personalities, tell me or Seonghwa, alright? He knows how to handle him.”

“I can handle him myself. There’s plenty of snow for me to toss him into, or some flames if our cabin has a fireplace,” you muttered, too stubborn to admit that your heart would most likely explode as soon as you had the displeasure of witnessing his disgustingly handsome face and charming dimpled smile.

Your friend shook her head slightly, unable to keep from smiling in your direction. “There is a fireplace, yeah.”

You sighed contentedly, admiring the expanse of dense snow, the sundry of oversized pine trees, the far away mountains covered in white, and the cluster of cozy-looking cabins beyond the frosted windshield. “Finally, some good news.”

Once you both got to the front steps of the cabin you’d be staying at, your arms full of the items that you could bring from the car, the front door swung open, almost giving you a heart attack on the spot.

“Baby, you’re here!” Seonghwa gasped, pulling your friend into his arms when she set her stuff down on the porch and spinning her around in a small circle, his eyes twinkling with pure adoration.

Once Seonghwa acknowledged your presence with a warm greeting, you stood off to the side while your friend and Seonghwa kissed and giggled with each other, your arms beginning to feel like jelly, wishing someone would just stamp the words “third wheel” on your forehead already.

“That looks heavy,” you heard someone say in a deeply familiar baritone voice, causing you to whip your head towards the origin, your wide eyes meeting San’s concerned coffee brown ones. “Do you want me to carry it in for you?”

“San,” you automatically blurted out, alarm bells going off, the mini versions of you running around in panic inside your head, your fingers clasping tighter around your things.

“Y/N,” he parroted back in the same cadence, already moving closer to you, his arms sliding underneath your belongings and holding them up with ease, his navy sweater doing nothing to conceal the solid mass of his arm muscles. “Is it like, misogynistic for me to carry your things?”

You opened and closed your hands, trying your get rid of the pins and needles. “No, I’d say it’s progressive since it’s a big dumb caveman carrying my things, so women: 1, patriarchy: 0.”

San offered you a dimpled smile, his wide shoulders scrunching up slightly, as a hearty laugh emanated from his throat. “Caveman, I like that. Should I go find a cave to explore?” He tilted his head, his eyes flitting between yours and your pleasing body line. “Maybe try to start a fire?”

Your heart leapt into your throat, forcing you to gulp it down. You sneered, already beginning to push past him to enter the cabin, only turning your head back to tell him, “Start a fire and jump inside, caveman.”

San smiled at you, seeing right past your act, watching you walk away, before turning his head to look at the two lovebirds still hugging on each other. “See that? She already gave me a pet name.”

❆ ❆ ❆

“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping yourself down onto the surprisingly comfy mattress in the cozy guest room you were occupying, finally done with putting your clothes and toiletries away in their respective places, for the most part, also noticing that the violent hammering inside your chest had subsided.

And then your door opened.

“Yo, this cabin is pretty sick, right? It’s got a nice, cabin-ey feeling to it,” San announced, walking into your room and looking around like he owned the place. Typical San behavior. Whistling casually, he eventually headed over to your side of the bed, picking up a few skincare products that were sitting on your bedside table to study them. “Does this retinol shit really work?”

“Excuse me, but are you lost? This is my room,” you combated, not bothering to get up from the bed you were currently sinking into, simply turning on your back and lifting your head up slightly to glare at him.

“Bro.” San clutched his chest like you had just emptied a clip right in between his tits, his eyebrows turning upwards, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Why do you act like we haven’t been inside each other?” He climbed onto the bed, looking down at you past his black bangs. “Matter of fact, I know you better than your little friend downstairs.”

You stared up at him, cursing yourself for wanting nothing more than to grab him by his stupid face and kiss him — but you wouldn’t, not after what he did. “You’re so gross.”

“Like in a sexy way, right?” he quipped, chuckling when you just shook your head. San slowly laid himself down beside you, looking up at the ceiling, reaching up behind his head and cupping the back of it to get more comfortable. “You didn’t argue against the fact that I know you better than your own self proclaimed ‘bestie’, you know.”

You let out a small sigh, resting your hands down at your sides, gripping the quilted blanket underneath you, your heart pounding inside your chest just like it did last Christmas. Did you ever fall out of love with him? Was that why your heart felt so stuck? Frozen in place? Like it was waiting for San to make it beat again? “Well, for once, you’re not wrong. I…let you in back then, obviously, so yeah, you know me better than she does. You know me better than anyone.”

San began to reach for your hand, hesitating for a second, not even realizing his walls were just as high. If only he could gather the courage to bring them down. “Y/N…”

You turned to look at San just as he turned his whole body towards yours, giving you one of his infamous gazes, his eyes closed ever so slightly, his lips parted, drawing in a breath. He lowered his hand, touching the top of yours, rubbing it with his thumb. “You know what else I know?”

Why did he have to do this to you? Just what the fuck was his problem?

“What, San?” you questioned underneath your breath, seconds away from losing it completely.

His eyes lost their playful twinkle, instead displaying sorrow. “Y/N, I–”

Seonghwa popped his head into the room. “Y/N, have you seen– Oh,” he deadpanned, displaying an oddly delighted smile for a split second, before his lips evened out. “We’re heading to the hang out now. It’s gonna snow pretty hard in a bit so it’s now or never.”

You both sat up from the bed, your cheeks burning like you had just been caught, well, inside of each other.

Seonghwa was about to say something when your friend walked up behind him and pulled him into whisper something, causing him to whisper back, the both of them nodding at each other.

You and San exchanged glances, before all four of you looked at one another. “Are you hiding things from me, pookie?” you playfully asked your friend, pouting.

“No, I’d never hide anything from you, pookie wookie baby bear!” she cried dramatically, running into the room and tackling you back down onto the bed.

San looked to Seonghwa, making grabby hands at him. “Where’s my hug?”

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, pointing at San’s thin sweater as it rose past his hips. “You better put on some more layers before we go, pookie bear. It’s cold as balls outside.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Instead of hanging out inside your friend’s friends’ cabin where the party was at, you loitered outside in the snow, building yourself a snowman. Maybe he’d stay by your side longer than the last one.

“Hey, what are you doing out here by yourself, ba–” San started, standing with his arm just barely pressing into yours, immediately clearing his throat, sticking his hands into his coat pockets. “Y/N, I mean, heh, sorry I’ve had a few drinks.”

You almost broke the empty beer bottle you were using as the snowman’s nose inside your hands from hearing San almost address you as baby, turning your head to look at the adorably goofy smile he had on his stupidly cute face. You bit your lip, wishing he would just say it, the layers of ice around your heart starting to crack. “I figured. Well, how come you’re out here with me, instead of shotgunning a beer or something with your caveman friends?”

Amused, San nodded his head, impressed by your ability to keep up with your shtick. “They’re too busy hanging around the fireplace, you know. The fire’s so pretty, they got distracted.” He grinned at you, grinning harder when you began to smile back at him, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of the giggle that escaped your lips. “I missed your giggle…missed you…” he murmured absentmindedly, pretending to stay busy by helping you round out the head of the snowman, while you stuck a rock into it where one of the eyes would be.

You dropped the other rock, standing still, feeling your mouth go dry. You racked your brain over his words, wanting to ask him why he didn’t stay with you in the first place if he was just going to miss you so much. You missed him too. You wanted him to know.

By the time you had made up your mind, San had picked up the rock and stuck it into the snow, completing the snowman’s face. “There we go. Mr. Snowman’s looking real nice.” He waited for a second, before turning to look at you with a concerned pout. “He’s not cuter than me, right?” When you didn’t respond, he blinked, leaning in. “Y/N?”

Instead of responding, you found yourself wrapping your arms around San’s neck, pulling him into a hug. You didn’t even say anything — you just focused on feeling his warm body against yours, recalling what it felt like to be his. His baby. If only he would just say it.

“Baby…” he whispered just under his breath, so carefully, like he risked the chance of causing an avalanche if he spoke any louder, gently rubbing your back in circles, automatically resting his head on the top of yours like he did last year. “What’s this about?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you murmured into his chest, your own about to collapse in on itself from hearing what he said, hugging onto him a little tighter than before, wishing things were different. “I…I think I’m drunk…”

“Oh…” San replied, swallowing harshly, only pulling away once you started to. He tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, giving you a concerned look. “You should come back inside and drink some water, then. Seonghwa was right to tell me to check up on you.”

Your face fell slightly, the bottle that was stuck inside the snowman drooping inside the melting snow as if it was mirroring your disappointment. “You…only came out here because Seonghwa told you to?”

“Well, I mean, he was the one that noticed you were gone, so he just thought I should make sure you were okay, yeah…” San explained, rubbing his arm.

You nodded your head, a soft smile returning to your face, not wanting San to see the hurt you felt, not yet, anyway. You were still able to hide it as of late. “That’s nice of him.”

“Yeah, Hwa’s a sweetie,” San mused, noticing the sad snowman, reaching out to fix the position of the beer bottle. “Too bad he’s taken, otherwise I’d be wifing him up and giving him the exclusive Choi San Caveman Experience. There’s a trademark on that, by the way.”He gave you another goofy smile, his smile growing when you offered him a few small giggles.

“I think you need water more than I do,” you mentioned, gently punching his arm.

San chuckled, his smile softening, wanting to say so much more than just, “You might be right.”

After a few seconds of too much silence, and too much yearning for an important conversation to take place, you instead pointed to the lively cabin behind you. “You should go get some. I’ll be back inside soon.”

“Okay, sounds good.” He put his hands back into his pockets, lingering there for a moment, before heading back inside.

You stood there for a while, watching the makeshift nose of the snowman begin to droop again, before you reeled your foot back and kicked into the base of the snowman, watching it topple over and fall apart.

❆ ❆ ❆

You lingered near the spiked punch bowl that sat inside the corner of the cabin’s empty kitchen, drinking down a solo cup’s worth of the fruity beverage and tossing the cup into the sink, not noticing another person’s presence until you turned to the side and bumped your nose into their broad chest. “Oh, shit– I’m sorry,” you apologized, backing up a bit to see that you had ran into no one other than Song Mingi, the man you had trauma dumped and cried to for an hour before having mindless rebound sex with after San dumped you. “Min, hey. Long time, no see.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you again. Very nice,” Mingi mused, taking a long sip of his drink, just studying you with his amused, half-closed eyes, pointing upwards with his finger. “What are the odds of this?”

“Hm?” Your eyes followed where he was pointing until your gaze settled on the mistletoe that hung from the doorway above the two of you, a memory of the past immediately lighting up the insides of your brain like the flash of a camera, the snapshot still fresh in your subconscious as though it had never faded in the first place, much like your feelings for San — but who were you to admit that to yourself?

“Jesus, what is with people and mistletoe?” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your itchy christmas sweater, ready to shield your eyes so you didn’t have to look at the two people vigorously making out underneath the red berries that were hung from the ceiling of the crowded cabin.

San hovered near you, running a hand through his hair, his eyes studying your scrunched up, flushed face, wondering how you could be so cute. “The origin of mistletoe is actually really romantic, y’know.” Once you met his gaze, his lips curled into a smile, his dimples making an appearance.

You gripped onto your sweater sleeve, smiling softly back at him, your annoyance fading. “Tell me about it then, Mr. Historian.”

San’s eyes sparkled at your reaction, his shoulder gently pressing into yours as he brought his drink up to his mouth. “Mistletoe has always been able to survive in the harshest of winters. Even when everything’s frozen…” When he lowered his hand, the side of his pinky touched yours, sending warmth into the both of your bodies. “….it still finds a way to bloom.”

You took in a quick breath, having to look down at your feet before your heart burst out of your chest as an unintentional ode to Alien and ruined the annual christmas party. “I didn’t peg you as a hopeless romantic, San.”

“I’m full of surprises, baby.” San hummed, gently taking your chin in his grasp and pressing a kiss to your lips, giggling delightedly as you buried your scorching face into his chest, his heart pounding, wanting nothing more than to show you just how hopelessly in love he was with you, but too afraid to grant you access to the very intense, very full extent of it, let alone himself.

He was full of surprises, so full of them that he was able to show such a meaningful display of love to you and still break up with you on the very same night, with little to no explanation, just a simple ‘I’m sorry.’ Choi San was truly an enigma — one you cursed yourself for still wanting to grasp, to hold, to forgive.

You looked down at Mingi’s drink only for him to motion for you to take it, immediately downing the punch until you were sucking on an ice cube and crunching it between your teeth, satisfied with the buzz coursing through your body, bitterness still seeping its way in your veins. You knew that what you were about to do wouldn’t make you feel any better, but you did it anyway, grabbing Mingi by the collar of his ugly Christmas sweater and smashing your lips against his. What you didn’t know, however, was that San was standing at the end of the hallway, with his hand in his coat pocket, there to witness how Mingi pressed you into the wall.

❆ ❆ ❆

Your friend slowly inched her way towards you from across the brightly lit, festively decorated living room full of your boisterous acquaintances having a battle with each other to determine who could be the loudest, drunkest individual in the room. Currently, it was San, unsurprisingly, who had a beer in one hand while hugging onto the obscenely large Christmas tree in the middle of the room. You couldn’t tell exactly what song he was singing, but you were pretty sure it was a romantic, mostly cheesy pop ballad from the 80s.

“Having fun?” your friend gauged softly, sitting down on the sofa in the corner beside you, clinking her glass beer bottle against yours.

You shrugged, taking a few sips of the chilled beer, crossing one leg over the other. “I made out with Mingi earlier, so that was cool, I guess.”

“You what?” she gasped, pressing closer to you, grabbing your arm and shaking you. “Y/N, oh my god, that’s so —” Her gossipy tone turned into one of concern. “But what about San?”

“What about San?” you grumbled, internally annoyed that all you could think about was San when Mingi’s tongue was down your throat. “He probably already did the same thing, considering how torched he is.”

She sighed, sinking into the couch, very well aware of how San truly felt about you, last Christmas, and how much he wanted to turn things around. Of course she would know. She had to hear it from Seonghwa, who in turn heard it from San off and on for the entire year, but she wasn’t about to speak for him. He would have to do that himself.

“Are you going to play truth, dare, or drink with us?” Mingi suddenly asked you, leaning his hip against the side of the couch, causing you and your friend to look up at him.

“Ehh.” You shrugged your shoulders at him.

He put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it, feeling someone’s eyes burning holes into the back of his head, figuring San was watching the both of you from the tree, who indeed was, his hands tightening around his beer and the scratchy pine needles he was holding onto. “It’ll be more fun if you join in, Y/N. How bout it?”

You sucked on your teeth for a second, your eyes moving past Mingi to gaze at San across the room, who was now talking to a girl who had came up to him, your stomach sinking at the clear appearance of his dimples. Stupid caveman.

You stood up, fingers squeezing around your poor beer bottle. “Fuck it, I’m in.”

“Good, good,” Mingi replied, smiling absentmindedly, bringing his own drink up to his lips, as if he wasn’t aware of the disaster he was about to bring into fruition — and all for the chance that he could recreate the events of last year’s Christmas party. It led to him having a pretty, teary-eyed girl in his bed to take care of, after all.

❆ ❆ ❆

“Yo, I can’t believe — he actually — I can’t breathe,” someone gasped out in between soundless laughs, falling back into their chair along with their other friends, pointing at San as he trudged back into the cabin past the sliding door, clad in only a form-fitting pair of Christmas themed boxers, wiping some snow off of his shoulders, before immediately going for his mixed drink and tossing it back victoriously, one hand on his hip.

“You bitches really thought I wouldn’t do it,” San chuckled self-righteously, taking another sip, before letting out a low ‘aaah’. “Someone owes me 20 bucks. Which one of you was it?” He held up an accusative finger to one of the girls nearby, who giggled and held her hands up defensively. “It was you, wasn’t it? Give it up!”

The rest of the group laughed in response, drunkenly leaning into each other, gleeful smiles plastered on their flushed faces.

“San’s pretty lively tonight,” Seonghwa said near you, nudging you gently with his elbow. “It’s almost kind of cute, huh?” Poor man was out of the loop, but he was trying, bless his heart.

“Cute?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow at him. “He’s butt-ass naked at a Christmas party. He’s a grown man wearing boxers with candy canes on it. What on earth is cute about that?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, side-eyeing you. “I don’t know, I just thought you’d agree with the way you’ve been staring at him all night.“

You almost choked on your spit, bringing a hand up to your hair to smooth it out. “Well, it’s hard to keep my eyes off of him when he’s being an annoying ass pick-me like that.”

“But you picked…him.”

“I did. Ages ago, Seonghwa,” you corrected him, watching San out of the corner of your eye, unable to believe that he was letting the girl slip a twenty directly into the waistline of his boxers. As soon as you looked down, San’s eyes were on you, his lips turning into a frown, immediately pushing the girl’s hand away when it lingered a bit too long, his eyes filled with bitter determination. “You know what he did to me. He spent all that time getting my hopes up all year long, only to hit me with the ‘i’m bad with commitment’ card before he left the party last year. That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

Seonghwa sighed in defeat, sinking back into his seat, biting at his lip. “I get what you’re saying, Y/N, I really do. It was unbelievably shitty for him to do that to you, but San…I think he really regrets it. All he talks about is you, Y/N.” Seonghwa turned to face you, gently touching your wrist. “He’s always loved you. He just doesn’t know how to verbalize it.”

You started biting at your lip too, simply listening to your friend’s words, wondering if there was any truth to them. It’s not like you were hearing them from San himself. That would be a different story — though you didn’t know if he was even capable of that kind of vulnerability. “I’d like to believe that, Hwa. I just…”

“Oh my god! With tongue? My virgin eyes!” someone gasped loudly at something, covering their eyes, their friends laughing at his dramatic performance.

“At least someone’s getting some,” Mingi chuckled, while eyeing you, currently holding up the same piece of mistletoe you had encountered together earlier, only this time someone else was under it. Someone that made you wish you had never even came up to the cabin in the first place.

“There’s no way…” you whispered to yourself, unable to take your eyes off of San, who was holding that same girl against him, his hands clutching her hips, his tongue halfway into her mouth by the time you got up from the couch and grabbed a water cup from the coffee table, determined to keep your tears inside your body before you stormed out, but you had to answer to your demons first.

“Y/N, he’s just drunk! He’s trying to make you jealous, okay? He’s being an idiot! Y/N, listen–” Seonghwa tried fruitlessly to reason with you, reaching for your wrist, only for it to slip out of his grasp as you made your way up to San and the unsuspecting woman.

Your bitter, frozen heart quelled you to toss the water at San, watching it splash onto the side of his reddened face, the shock of it sobering him up almost instantaneously, causing him to pull away from the woman and look at you, the weight of his faulty decisions hitting him square into the chest when he saw the tears in your eyes. “Y/N…I…I didn’t mean….I just…” Tears began to form inside his own eyes. “I just wanted you to see me.”

“I see you, San,” you whispered, your voice cracking underneath the weight of your emotional turmoil. “I’ve seen enough, actually.”

San froze in place, while what felt like cement sink to the bottom of his stomach, unable to get himself to stop you from grabbing a freshly opened bottle of booze from someone’s hands and walking away from him.

Your friend tried in vain to reason with you, getting hit with a death glare, before you stormed out. She turned to Seonghwa, whispering “Do something,” encouraging him to run over to San, grabbing him by the shoulders and temporarily keeping him upright.

“San, listen to me.”

San sniffled, his nose sporting a pink hue, as hot tears began to drip down his clammy face, sinking down to his knees, watching as Seonghwa sank down with him. “Seonghwa, I fucked up. I just wanted her to want me. I wanted her to get jealous and take what’s hers. I didn’t know how– a-and her, and Mingi– I just thought maybe if I–”

Seonghwa shook San a bit, his nostrils flaring, his fingers squeezing into his friend’s trembling shoulders. “Get a grip and listen to me!” As soon as San took in a shaky breath and let it out, Seonghwa cleared his throat. “You’re going to put some fucking clothes on, nut up, and go after her. It’s now or never.”

San wiped his eyes, trying to control his breathing. “B-but what do I say, Seonghwa? How can I possibly–”

Seonghwa suddenly pulled him into a hug, clutching the back of his head, feeling San slowly begin to relax against him. “You’re going be honest with her, San. Tell her what you’ve always wanted her to know. The world isn’t going to end after you do. She’ll still be there, and you’ll be safe.”

San clutched Seonghwa’s back, blinking away a few remaining tears. “You promise?”

Seonghwa pulled away, curling his pinky finger around his best friend’s, giving him a firm nod. “Promise.” Seeing the trust inside San’s sparkling eyes, Seonghwa reached up to ruffle his hair, smiling softly. “Oh, and give her that Christmas present you’ve been waiting for her to open.”

A small smile slowly apread across his splotchy face, before he gave Seonghwa a stern nod back, reaching his hand inside the pocket of his coat to feel what had been sitting inside and collecting dust for the entire year. It was time. Things weren’t going to end up like last Christmas. It would be different this time. He would make sure of it.

❆ ❆ ❆

With each passing minute, you sank a little further into the abyss of your memories, as well as the freshly fallen layers of snow that surrounded you, splashes of alcohol melting into it whenever you took a lazy swig and dropped the bottle back down at your side. “You dummy…” you mumbled to yourself, sniffling, your warm tears and body doing its best to combat the chilly environment around you.

Once you reached a street lamp, the warm light glowing onto your damp clothes, the memories of last year, that had once been frozen over suddenly flooded into your mind so quickly, you had to lower yourself onto the gravel beneath you, resting your back against the metal of the large buzzing lamp. “Shit…” You brought your wrist to your eyes, smearing a fresh wave of tears into your slightly damp hair, realizing you had been there before, the deja vu hitting you harder than the icy night wind hit your flushed face.

“San, what’s wrong?” You stood next to your boyfriend, watching him simply stare at the Christmas tree in front of him, his hands in his coat pockets.

San clutched onto the present he had spent weeks waiting to be custom-made and even longer just staring at it inside his apartment, wondering if it was enough, if he was enough, for someone like you.

San slowly shook his head, taking his hand out of his pocket to gently grab your wrist, leaning in to ask, “Can we talk?”

“No, we’re not doing this right now,” you told yourself out loud, smacking the side of your head and shaking it back and forth to hopefully send the memory packing, but it persisted, much like the snowfall around you.

“I don’t understand, San, we were fine! We’re okay. Why are you doing this?” you cried, trying and failing to keep San from leaving the cabin, unable to catch the corner of his coat sleeve until you were both under a street lamp, the light blinking occasionally.

San slowly turned around to face you for a moment, shaking his head, keeping his tears at bay. He didn’t know what he was thinking. How would he be enough for someone like you? Poor San simply couldn’t see the beauty he saw in you in his own self. “I just can’t, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“Can’t what? Can you just talk to me, San? I want to understand, San, please, talk to me,” you begged him, your heart sinking further with each step you took towards him as he continued to walk away. You stopped eventually, in the front of his car, your breath caught in your throat. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Just like that?”

San stroked his hair with a shaky hand in an unconscious act of self-soathing, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, looking off to the side, before gripping the door handle of his car, as well as the felt box inside his pocket with his other hand, only seeing a blurry version of you by the time he looked back up. How could he explain how afraid he was of you and the love you offered him? How his many walls, like ice, were impenetrable, until you melted them away? It frightened him, so much so that all he could say was, “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” before he got into the car and shut the door.

“You…dummy…” you repeated, this time in a whisper, taking another swig from the bottle and choking down the strong liquor, about to force yourself to down it when you heard what sounded like a set of boots quickly shuffling through the snow.

“Y/N,” San gasped, almost completely out of breath from running through the rough winter terrain, bending forward slightly with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, sending puffs of condensation into the air around you. “I have to – tell you something–”

“Oh, now you have something to say? After all this time? That’s rich,” you scoffed, wobbling a bit as you stood up, trying to put up a front like you had done earlier, though your facade had since melted away, your quivering lips and red, teary eyes on full display. “…Go on, San…”

San finally caught his breath, his heart still hammering away inside his chest, reaching up to his head to stroke his somewhat damp raven hair, trying to swallow the growing lump inside his throat. “Y/N, I…I should’ve said this a long time ago, instead of just leaving you the way I did…”

The longer you stared at him, the longer he felt his walls crumbling around him, figuring that he had no choice but to tell you what had always been lingering on his tongue, buzzing in his heart and mind, and swimming inside his thoughts each night when he was alone. He realized it was worth the risk of having to return to a cold, silent heart, a bitter soul, and even higher walls that he could box himself inside of. To him, you were worth anything.

Your anger slowly subsided at the sight of his serious gaze, his warm coffee-brown eyes studying you like nothing else existed besides you. In fact, nothing did, inside his world, except for you. “San…” you murmured, reaching out to touch his hand, but he already beat you to it, interlacing your cold fingers together.

“I love you, Y/N,” he admitted in the softest, most convicting voice you’ve ever heard from him, slowly pulling out the box he kept inside his coat, opening it to reveal a small gold ring with a jewel shaped like mistletoe, gently sliding it onto your finger when you held your hand out. “I love you so much, baby. So much it terrifies me.”

“Oh, San…” you sighed, breathless, bringing your hand to your chest from being so overwhelmed with emotion. After a moment, you reached for his hand, squeezing it, moving closer to him, his confession and gift warming you up more than a raging, crackling fire ever could. “San–”

“If I had just told you how I felt back then, I wouldn’t have hurt you the way I did.” He squeezed your hand back, his chapped, lower lip quivering. “I wish I could take it all back. It’s all I’ve been able to think about– How I wish I could just turn back time and–”

You silenced San’s words with a gentle kiss, letting go of his hand to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms following suit, closing around your waist. You broke the kiss after a moment to whisper, “I love you too, San. Always have.” You caressed his face, making sure he felt the love pouring out of your words when you promised, “Always will.”

San let out a trapped breath of air, hugging you against him, protectively clutching the back of your head, unable to stop everything he had held inside from spilling out of him all at once.

You simply held him in your arms and stroked the back of his head, not noticing when the light above you had flickered once and went out for a split second, only to shine brighter than it did before, the light warming the exposed skin of your flushed cheeks.

❆ ❆ ❆

San sat on his knees beside the crackling fire, adjusting a piece of firewood, watching the flame catch onto it and travel along the cedar, enjoying the warmth on his skin, eventually turning his head back to admire the sight of you bundled up on the couch with a plush blanket on your lap, your hands clasped around a cup of tea, your eyes admiring your twinkling ring, before you noticed his loving gaze.

“Sannie, come here, love,” you spoke softly, taking one finger off of the cup to beckon him to you, sliding the blanket off and putting the cup down after one more sip.

“Coming, baby.” Eyes sparkling, San inched his way over to you, still on his knees, fitting himself in between yours so that he could wrap his arms around your middle, resting his head against your chest. “Mm, you’re so warm.”

You ran your fingers through his soft, still slightly damp hair, waiting till he looked up at you to caress his cheek, a small sigh leaving your lips. “I’m sorry for what I did to you earlier. I really shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was hypocritical of me.” You ran your fingers gently along his jaw, noticing the way he leaned into your touch.

“No, baby, I’m sorry,” he replied, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, pouting. “I did…that to you in front of everyone…It was really shitty…I just couldn’t think straight after I saw you with Mingi.”

Your face fell, your fingers sliding back into San’s hair to play with it. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t…I want you to know that there was no meaning behind it, love. I was just bitter. And drunk.”

“I know, Y/N. It’s all forgiven, I promise you.” San reassured softly, responding well to your light touches, nuzzling your hand when it came back to his cheek, his fingers sliding underneath your sweater to squeeze into your sides, sending a light shiver up your spine. “But, you know what, baby?”

“What, Sannie?” Your body temperature started to increase as San brought himself up higher so that you were face to face, body to body, his palms settling onto your bare back.

“There’s meaning behind this,” he whispered, bringing his hands up to cup your face, before gently pressing his lips onto yours. You shared a few firm, passionate kisses, your lips moving against one another’s, hearing San whisper something else that sent a wave straight into your core. “Can you feel it, baby? My love?”

“Yeah, show me more, Sannie,” you murmured against his lips, his mouth slotting back onto yours, almost making you forget to breathe when his tongue began to explore the inside of your mouth.

San sucked lightly on your tongue, before moving down to kiss on your neck, his hands moving further up to unclasp your bra from underneath your sweater. “Can I please touch you, baby?” he asked with a desperation that made his deep voice go up an octave higher.

“Yes, please, touch me,” you responded with just as much desperation, arching your back into his touch when he slipped his hands up the front of your sweater, moving your tits in slow, gentle circles, his lips and teeth attacking your neck and collarbone.

“You feel so good in my hands, baby, fuck, I missed you so much,” San exhaled into your neck, squeezing the roundness of your tits in between his fingers, squishing them together, and lifting them up, only to drop them back down into his palms, groaning all the while. He pulled back slightly, rolling the hem of your sweater up a bit, his hooded, dilated eyes focused solely on yours. “Can I take this off?”

A quick nod was all it took for him to lift your sweater up over your head, your bra falling to the floor. Not wanting you to be alone, he reached behind his head and pulled his own sweater off, his sculpted, muscular upper body bathed in glowing, orange light from the fire blazing away behind him. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” he sighed, admiring your body like he did the very first time he saw you bare in front of him.

“So are you,” you replied, slowly running your hands up along his abdomen and back down, his muscles flexing slightly underneath your touch, his eyes following your fingers as they unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down to reveal his cute custom briefs. “My Sannie, so precious.”

San blushed, his goofy smile slowly disappearing as he unbuttoned your pants, biting hard into his bottom lip once he got them off of you. “Baby…” Unable to just sit there and admire you, he reached forward to cup your tits, running his thumbs back and forth over your stiff nipples, lust clearly running rampant in his head and body by the way he was looking at you with such clear hunger in his eyes, his cock hard and stiff against your core. “Can I taste you?”

“Baby, you don’t have to ask, okay? You can have me, in any way–” you started breathily, feeling San’s cock beginning to pulse against you. “–Every way, Sannie. Please, take care of me.”

San suddenly clutched your hips, slowly grinding his clothed cock into your heat, while his mouth closed around one of your nipples to suck on it, his hooded eyes looking up into yours, his tongue darting out to lap at your tit.

“Feels so good, your mouth on me,” you breathed out, running your fingers through his hair, clutching it tight when he swapped your tit for the other, his jaw lowering so that he could fit more of your squishy globe into his mouth, sucking on it desperately. “Sannie…please…”

Knowing what you wanted, San pulled back to spit onto your tits, watching it drip down, before leaning back in to lick it up, his tongue cascading up and down your now slick skin, still guiding your hips against him, your legs already hooked around his slim waist. Your whiny moans were like music to his ears, taking a break from sucking and licking you to say, “You like it messy, don’t you, baby girl? Makes you so wet for me, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh, now come here,” you could barely get out, before you grabbed his face and slammed your lips against his, your mouths and tongues working in tandem, strands of spit dripping down your chins, San’s hands squeezing tightly into your hips, grinding against you so quick, so desperately, you were both about to reach your highs just from that.

“Sannie,” you sighed against his lips, caressing his jaw, his cock rubbing against your cunt in just the right way, your body pulsing with the need to be filled.

“Y/N,” he sighed back, pressing his forehead onto yours, the both of you breathing in the same air, the thick, throbbing length of his cock rubbing deliciously along your clothed slit until your lower halves began to jolt, your moans and gasps crescendoing in unison. “Cumming? Are you cumming for me, baby?”

“Y–esss, Sannie, m’ cumming for you,” you cried out, holding onto him as tightly as you could, your nails digging lightly into his back, feeling his muscles contracting. “Cum for me too, please, baby, let me see you.”

San let out a choked, whiny moan, panting heavily, losing his quick, focused thrusts, opting for sloppy, abrupt movements, barely about to get out the word, “B–abyyy…”

You both fell apart in each other’s arms, your eyes never breaking contact, your combined arousal soaking through your respective undergarments.

Once you both caught your breath, San reached down to rub your pussy with two thick fingers, able to see your slit through your shiny, see-through panties, his cum-covered cock already twitching back to life. “Fuck, baby, look at that…you’re completely soaked.”

“Just for you,” you nodded, spreading your thighs open further, pulling the hem of your panties up a bit to emphasize your puffy cunt, your clit pressing into the soft cloth material.

“Oh my god, baby, I need to taste you,” San suddenly whined, squeezing his fingers into the softness of your thighs, lowering himself down to take a deep inhale of your arousal, his head going completely fuzzy, unable to keep himself from drooling onto your cunt.

You slipped your fingers into his soft hair, bringing his face against your heat, sighing at the feeling of his nose bumping against your clit as he took another deep breath, shuddering when he began to tongue your cunt through your panties. “That’s it, Sannie, feels so good,” you moaned, your praise going straight to San’s cock, causing it to strain against his stained briefs.

“Mmmn,” San moaned against your pussy, licking one slow, long strip up your slit to your clit, filled with so much need for you that he couldn’t keep himself from tearing your panties off of you with one quick tug, making you gasp and release more slick, his mouth already on you to lap it right up, his other hand shoving his briefs down so that his cock could spring out against his abdomen, pre-cum smearing across his tan skin. “This pussy is all mine, baby…mine to eat, mine to fuck….mine to fill, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sannie, all yours, it’s all yours,” you answered, clutching his hair, desperately grinding your cunt against his tongue when he held it out, looking deep into his eyes that never left yours for a second, suddenly gasping out when San spread your hole open, sending a wad of spit inside before his agile tongue slipped inside of you.

San grabbed the undersides of your thighs and lifted your lower half up so that he could tongue fuck you as deep as humanly possible, letting out a pleased moan each time his tongue entered your soaked, pulsing hole. He kept going until you saw stars, going ‘uh-huhhh, uh-huhhh’ as soon as you began to shudder, your arousal squirting out and soaking his flushed face.

“My pretty baby came so hard for me,” San sighed, licking your wetness up from your sensitive cunt and his lips, before he brought you in for another sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself.

The longer you kissed, the more you wanted him inside you, needed him to fuck his love into you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You needed him so badly, you didnt even realize what you were doing until you had found yourself pushing San down onto the fur carpet below and straddling him, sitting on his lap in a way that showed the both of you exactly where his long, veiny cock would reach inside of you once he filled you up. “Need you, Sannie. Need you now.”

“You can have me, baby.” San’s cock twitched against your abdomen, his hands rubbing your thighs, eventually lifting you up and down onto his cock, groaning at the feeling of your pussy swallowing his length inch by inch. “Fuck, princess, have all of me.”

Instinctively, San began to buck his hips up into you, filling you up so well, you felt a bit dizzy, encouraging you to hold onto his chest, still taking his cock deep inside your cunt like you were made for him.

San must’ve agreed too because he couldn’t keep from groaning out, “Look at you, babygirl, look at the way you’re taking me, taking my cock so deep–” He pressed one hand to your abdomen, feeling the bulge his cock made each time he fucked into you, driving the both of you crazy. “Your pretty pussy was made for me, baby. Made just for me. You’re mine, babygirl.”

“Yours.” You quickly lowered yourself down to kiss him, his hands sliding up and down along your body to feel your warm skin underneath his touch, eventually settling his hands on your cheeks, wiping a few of your tears away when you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Cum for me, Y/N…You can do it…Fall apart for me, baby, ” San encouraged in between heavy breaths, slowing the movements of his hips down, instead filling you up in a slow and meticulous manner, drawing your intense orgasm out of you. “Yes, baby, that’s it, that’s it…”

“Sannnn, oh my god, San.” The longer you fell apart, the tighter your pussy constricted around San’s cock, causing him to throw his head back, sweat dripping down along his straining neck, his veins growing more visible when he gripped your thighs tightly. “Fill me up, Sannie. Need your cum inside.”

“Cumminggg, princess, oh my god, baby girl,” San groaned heavily, lifting you up and down on his throbbing length, before fully sheathing himself inside you, coating your walls with white.

Panting, you both gazed at each other’s sweat-covered faces and bodies, knowing internally that it wasn’t enough. Not nearly.

“Again?”

“Again.”

San didn’t waste any time gently pulling you off of him and climbing on top of you instead, spreading you open and filling you back up, sighing at the sight of your mixed arousal forming a ring around the base of his cock each time he pounded himself into you. “You’re so full of my cum, baby…so full of my cock, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“So full for you, Sannie, don’t stop,” you gasped, hardly able to breathe with the way he had you folded up, your legs over his shoulders, his cock slamming so deep inside you that you swore he was hitting your womb.

“Wasn’t gonna,” San exhaled, chuckling softly, his lips curling up to give you a smile, his eyes creasing with amusement. “Need to show you my love.”

“Show me, baby,” you sighed affectionately, smiling back at him, giggling at the sight of his eyes lighting up, before you pressed a kiss to his lips.

The wet, sloppy sound of your bodies joining together over and over filled up the otherwise quiet cabin, along with your harmonious moans, the remaining pieces of firewood still crackling away beside you. Time seemed to stop completely. It was just you and him, coming undone together for what seemed like a lifetime.

You both ended up back on the couch, your limbs and bodies entangled, snuggling together underneath the cozy blanket, talking with each other about anything and everything until your eyelids grew heavy, leading you to drift off, your fingers clasped together.

Before you could fully fall asleep, you nuzzled your cheek against San’s chest, gently inhaling his comforting scent. He smelled like aftershave, warm cedar wood, and spiced cinnamon. It reminded you of your time there at the cabin, the memories you spent together, both good and bad, swirling together to form a comfortingly bittersweet concoction, one that you would consume in every lifetime.

“San,” you whispered softly into the darkness, the fire beside the both of you now ashes and smoke.

“Yes, Y/N?” he whispered back, his arms closing around you protectively.

You sighed against his skin, your body and heart melting like the snow would begin to do as well, once the sun came up. “I love you so much, San…” You lifted your head up, hovering above him so that you could look down at him, your fingers clutching his jaw, your expression so soft San thought you might cry. “I want to show you how to share some of that love with yourself one day.”

San smiled up at you, his eyes full of so much adoration for you, it threatened to spill out of him, his fingers running through your hair. “You showed me, Y/N. Through it all, behind every word, every action, I still saw it there. That’s why I put myself first and confessed to you.” He smiled softly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “I’m…not nearly as put together as I seem. I just love you so much, it makes me want to be strong. For you. And…for me.”

You didn’t realize you were crying too until you saw your teardrops land on his face and slide down his cheek, wondering if your icy heart had finally melted, and that was why there were so many tears escaping from your blurry eyes. “Oh, San, my sweet San, I’ll be here to watch you grow, I promise,” you murmured, hugging onto him and laying back down to rest your head on his chest, gently rolling the ring around your finger.

San’s hand came up from underneath the blanket to rest on top of yours. He squeezed your hand and you squeezed right back. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you repeated softly, closing your eyes, your heart at peace. “As long as you promise to watch me too.”

San closed his eyes too, a few more happy tears dripping past his cheeks, squeezing you just a little tighter than before. San felt safe. Whole. “I’d love nothing more, Y/N.”

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illyrianbitch · 3 months

Text

And I'm Thinking About Your Lips — Part Two

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: After sleeping together, you and Cassian are wrestling with what it means for your friendship--- leading you both to misreading everything.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! best friends to lovers. literally just two big dummies in love, lots of miscommunication (tbh lack thereof), awkward moments, a sprinkle of sex! lovey dovey hot sex!

Word Count: 13k

This is part two of this fic, but can be read as a stand-alone :)

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The room was bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the day, tendrils of morning light peeking through your sheer curtains. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft brightness that now enveloped your room. You smiled to yourself, a heat rising to your cheeks as memories of the night prior began flooding through your mind, melting into you like warm honey. Cassian’s scent clung onto the sheets wrapped around you, evoking a warm, fluttering sensation in your chest. You inhaled deeply, delighting in the comforting smell, in the warmth it brought to your body.

You slept with Cassian. You slept with Cassian. You fucked Cassian.

You pulled your sheets closer to yourself, an anticipation rising in your chest. There was a childlike excitement in your stomach, a giddiness that made your cheeks hurt from your smile. You let out a small breath, preparing yourself to turn over and face Cassian next to you, to revel in the intimacy of the morning after. You two needed to talk, of course, to discuss the new boundaries between you— to discuss what you even were.

But as you shifted your weight, your smile dropped instantly. You stared at the empty spot next to you, the sheets wrinkled with an impression that almost made out Cassian’s form. Your heart sank like a stone in your chest, heavy with a weight of disappointment. You sat up right, scooting backwards to rest your back against the headboard. Your hand held your sheets to your chest, covering your nude form. You let out a deep sigh, a sadness raking through your body in waves. Of course he was gone.

You chastised yourself for feeling so upset, for feeling so bothered. You knew better. This was Cassian, after all. An illyrian known for a good fuck– a great fuck. In fact, the rumors hadn’t done him justice. You always knew, deep down, that Cassian would be great in bed. There were too many females preaching about his skills, too many fawning over him for it all to be lies, to be over exaggerated. At one point, Mor had admitted that it was great– for the standards that she held him at. Sex with females was much more her speed, she had told you, but Cassian wasn’t too bad, even given the circumstances. At the time, the words never bothered you. But now, thinking back on them, you felt an envious irritation prickle at your skin.

A part of you had hoped that this was different– that you were different. When he fell asleep next to you, you took it as a sign. Cassian almost never stayed the night with the women he fucked. You'd caught him before, coming home in the dead of night, a grin on his face, reeking of sex. The next morning he’d make some comment about it, tell you about his recent conquest– how flexible they were, how much they wanted him, how they said his name like he was a God. You always rolled your eyes, called him a pig, made fun of him. But now things were different. You were the female who wanted him so badly, the female that had moaned his name like he was a God.

Had he left in the middle of the night and you’d failed to notice? Escaped your room and went back to his? Or was it early in the morning when he was hit with the sudden realization of what he had done? A sudden feeling of regret that grew arms and hauled him out of bed? He was probably thinking exactly what you were. It was a mistake.

A glorious mistake. Repeated six times. So, six mistakes. Six glorious mistakes. But mistakes nonetheless.

A deep sense of embarrassment filled you as you recalled the things you’d done the night prior, the things you'd said in a lustful haze. The memories were still fresh in your mind– you could feel the trace of Cassian's touch on your skin, the way his mouth felt on you, the way he had rolled his hips while inside you. You felt queasy now– dirty, almost.

You lowered your gaze to where your hand clutched your soft sheets against your body. Instantly, you let out another pained sigh. Scattered across your chest were love bites Cassian had left behind– each dark and loud in their appearance. You stared at them with a frown.

In the heat of the moment, you welcomed his marks, reveled in the passion they showed, enjoyed the idea of being marked as his. But now, in the light of day, they served as something entirely different– marks of bad decisions, reminders you’d have to face until they faded. Considering how prominent they were, how many were spread out around your body, you knew it would be a while until you were free of them.

You slumped further into your bed, a heavy weight settling over your shoulders. With a resigned sigh, you let your head fall back against the headboard, the impact of it against the wood echoing softly in the room.

Fuck.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian had forgotten the plans he’d made with Azriel– a meeting to review recent findings, to plan for future missions. He was already running late by the time he had woken up, the sunshine filtering in your room too bright for it to be early morning, the time he had agreed to meet Az. His body was relaxed in a way it had never been before. He supposed that would be expected after having the best sex of his life– with… his best friend? He tried not to overthink it. Instead, he had rolled over, taking in your presence with a smile.

He spent minutes looking at you, admiring the way that you slept, the peaceful rise of your chest as you breathed— he’d done his best to avoid staring at your naked form, the way your nipples perked in the morning air. He failed severely. How could he not appreciate them? Appreciate the rest of your body? The very thing he was lucky enough to touch, lucky enough to have pleasured.

It took every ounce of his will to remove himself from your bed, to keep himself from leaning over and embracing you, waking you up with a kiss. Every bone in his body ached for him to be intertwined with you again. So, in order to leave he had to at least touch you once. Tenderly, he had leaned over your sleeping figure, softly bringing the knuckles of his fingers across your cheek.

He wanted to leave a note, leave something for you to wake up to. He searched for minutes, but your bedroom offered him no options. For a female who collected many things, your ‘trinkets’ as you liked to call them, you failed to own the one thing he needed– a pen.

But he didn’t let him bother him too much. You knew him well enough to assume he’d left with good reason. And he was confident that you’d come find him to talk when you awoke. The thought of it alone made him feel giddy, made him excited in a way that traveled to both his heart and his cock at the same time. Such a strange feeling. He never thought the two would be so connected.

He couldn’t focus all morning, none of Azriel’s words registering in his mind. His thoughts were all surrounding you. The way you smelled, the way you felt, how beautiful you looked when he fucked you, how beautiful you looked when you slept. Azriel had gotten tired of him, irritated at his lack of attention. With an eye roll he had sent Cassian on his way— and Cass had made a beeline for you.

He hadn’t expected to run into you immediately as he entered the hallway. But he accepted the timing gratefully, taking you in with a smile. A warmth fluttered in his chest as he walked towards you.

“Cassian,” you breathed out, a small smile finding its way onto your lips.

Cassian frowned at the use of his full name falling from your lips in a way that felt so stiff, so unnatural. He swiftly recovered, meeting your smile with one of his own. His eyes shamelessly scanned you as you stood before him, causing a heat rise to your cheeks. Your heartbeat quickened, the sound echoing in your ears as you fought to regain your composure. Clearing your throat, you drew his attention back to your face.

"Mornin'," Cassian greeted, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he looked at you. His wings flared out behind him, extended comfortably and proud. You ran your eyes along their outlines.

"Morning," you managed to reply, your voice coming out strained and uneven. You instinctively pulled your hands to the high neckline of your dress, tugging at the material in a nervous attempt to draw it closer to you.

Cassian's grin faltered for just a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find an explanation for your movements, for how you stood before him– uneased, almost awkward. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"How did you slee—"

"—Did you have a good—"

Your voices overlapped, the words tumbling out in a jumble of awkwardness. Cassian's eyebrows lifted in amusement, a small smirk now playing at the corners of his lips. Your laughter bubbled up nervously as you met his gaze with a small, uncertain smile.

"You first," you said, as you gestured towards him with a hesitant hand.

Cassian's smirk softened, a small breath of amusement escaping him in the form of a gentle laugh. He observed you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. “Did you have a good night?”

The images manifested in your mind quicker than you could process, the sound of his voice echoing in your head.

I could feast on this beautiful pussy forever, you know that?

I wish I could be here forever.

Stay buried inside of your cunt. Fuck you like this for the rest of my life.

You blinked away the flurry of thoughts, feeling your stomach clench in an uncomfortable knot. A rush of heat flooded your already tinted cheeks. Hastily, you tried to push the images away– your new feelings of arousal too. You only hoped Cassian couldn’t tell, that he couldn’t smell it.

"Uh, yeah... yeah I did. Did you?"

Cass picked up on the way you stumbled over your words, on the uncertain cadence in which they were spoken. But he decided against acknowledging it. You seemed to be happy last night, content with him. So, perhaps, this was how you always were after sex. He’d never seen this side of you, never seen you right after you’d fucked someone, after someone had fucked you. The thought eased some of his anxiety. This was a natural response for you, he affirmed, all he needed to do was play it cool and casual. You’d set the pace.

"Oh, yeah. I did," Cassian replied, his tone lowering as a gentle smile played at the corners of his lips. His hazel eyes seemed to soften, their usual warmth taking on a golden hue that made them glimmer in the light. You felt a flutter in your chest, an inexplicable pull towards him that made it hard to tear your gaze away.

You nodded awkwardly, managing a small, strained smile. "Cool," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You found yourself now avoiding his gaze, looking anywhere but his face

"Cool," he repeated, his tone lighter than yours, laced with amusement. You could hear the smile in his voice, could picture it without even looking at him. His nonchalant demeanor was almost disarming, and you found yourself glancing up at him, meeting his gaze without intending to.

There he was, looking back at you with an easy smile, his eyes warm and inviting. Your face softened and you felt a flutter in your chest, a warmth spreading throughout your body like a gentle wave.

“Hey, so-” Cassian reached his hand forward, moving to place it on your arm. You quickly deflected the movement, taking a step backwards as you threw a thumb over your shoulder.

“I, uh, I actually have to go,” you stammered, your voice hurried as you searched for an excuse. “I’m meeting Fey and Mor for breakfast. Can't be late.”

You offered a small apologetic smile before turning on your heel and disappearing around the corner, leaving Cassian standing alone in the hallway. Cassian's expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features as he watched you retreat. He felt his wings slump slightly behind him as a frown creased in his brow. You had left– no, fled– in the same direction you were coming from.

His hand hovered in the air for a moment, as if suspended in the space where you had stood. He looked down at his hand, then back to the spot where you had disappeared around the corner before letting it slowly fall back to his side.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Mor was incredibly hung over when you showed up at her apartment, frantically knocking like your life depended on it. She stumbled to the door, her hair disheveled and her eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep.

You rushed inside without a word, looking at her with a face of exasperation. Mor blinked blearily at you, trying to process the world around her, one that was moving faster than her brain could handle. “What's going on?" she asked, her voice muffled by a yawn.

You stared at Mor for a moment. When you opened your mouth to respond, no words came out. You didn’t know where to start– didn’t even know what you wanted to tell her. How do you explain that you’ve completely humiliated yourself? That there's a chance you’ve messed up your friendship with Cassian? With a frustrated groan, you turned away and walked to her couch, slumping down onto it with a defeated sigh.

It took 15 minutes for Feyre to show up, her footsteps echoing as Mor opened the door. She rushed in, concern etched on her face as she peeled off her coat.

"I rushed over as soon as I could. What was the big dea—" Feyre's words trailed off as her eyes fell upon you, sprawled on your back on the couch, your groans muffled by the pillow you clutched tightly to your face. Feyre looked over to the blonde next to her.

"She fucked Cassian," Mor stated blankly, taking a sip of the warm liquid in her cup– tea, from what Feyre could smell. Something to help with Mor’s evident hangover– another thing Feyre could smell.

Feyre's eyes widened in surprise as she let out a small gasp. Then, her face transformed into one of slight amusement. "Took long enough."

Mor swallowed down her tea, nodding in agreement before clearing her throat. "So either it went really good or really bad.” She exchanged a meaningful look with Feyre. "I haven't been able to tell which it is yet.”

Feyre nodded in understanding, her expression softening as she walked over to where you lay, sitting on the ground beside the couch. As Mor settled into a chair across from you, Feyre leaned forward, resting her arms on the cushions to get your attention. "Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice ringing softly in your ears. "Why don’t we move this pillow away."

You slowly lowered the pillow from your face, turning to the side to meet Feyre's gaze as she said, “Well, someone looks extra beautiful today.”

You stared at her with an unamused face. "I'm so absolutely mortified," you mumbled, a frown forming on your lips.

Pushing yourself upright on the couch, you tossed a glance at both Mor and Feyre. They looked at you, quiet and expecting, eyebrows raised slightly. With a deep breath, you let it all spill out. You walked them through the night at Ritas, the conversation when you came home, details about your night with Cass, the sex, and how you had woken up to an empty bed.

"And then when I saw him, he was so casual, so nonchalant about it," you explained, frustration lacing your words. "I half expected him to give me a fist bump and call me dude."

You didn't miss the way Mor choked on her drink, a small sound escaping her lips that almost resembled a laugh. Feyre did her best to maintain her composure, her lips pressed tightly together. But her eyes, sparkling with suppressed laughter, gave her away. In all fairness, you would be laughing too. In fact, a part of you, deep down, wanted to. It all seemed so absurd. A few months ago, the idea of being intimate with Cassian would have been something so unrealistic.

"Well, this is Cassian," Feyre began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. “He’s….”

She looked towards Mor for help. The blonde held her gaze for a minute, and then spoke, "Oblivious," she supplied, her tone matter-of-fact. "Honestly, I don't understand how he talks to women," Mor continued, "He's horrible at it. Pretty privilege gets you things, I swear-"

Feyre's expression shifted to one of quiet reprimand. "Mor."

“No, she's right," you admitted with a sigh, tapping Feyre’s hand lightly. "He is pretty bad. He gets away with it because he's hot. And he's good in bed... which I now know." Another groan escaped you as you sank back further against the couch.

You understood now why decision making under any drug, under any hazes, was heavily frowned upon. Your eagerness to bed your best friend, the lustful trance you were in, both drunk on your own arousals, it left you in a mess. You cringed at the embarrassment that still filled you. How were you supposed to be normal, now? Cassian’s smell still filled your nose, the mere thought of him made your core clench. Seeing him made you feel feral. And now, you had to face him casually— knowing he had seen you in such a vulnerable position; that he had seen you completely naked, moaning underneath him. The image sent a blush up your neck.

"If he wants to move on from it, okay," you said, "But I don't know how to be normal around him. How do people do this?"

“What?” Mor asked, “Have casual sex?”

“No. I love casual sex,” you said. Even though you’d never finished before Cassian. “But sex with your best friend? Not casual.”

She shrugged. “Depends on the best friend, really.”

You shot her a look.

“Sorry, not helping.” She lifted a hand up in surrender. “Got it.”

Feyre shifted beside you, her gaze gentle as she placed her hand on top of yours. "Look, it doesn't have to be a big deal if you don't want it to be," she reassured you.

You nodded, appreciating her attempt to ease your anxiety. You knew this wasn’t that big of a deal, at least not to everyone around you. But you were stressed. Your friendship with Cassian was something that you treasured dearly. You knew him better than you knew yourself. He was home. The thought that your bond, the relationship you had formed over centuries, could have been changed by one night of flimsy thinking— it made you worry.

"I know,” you replied. “But I don't know how to even look at him..." Your voice trailed off as you cringed inwardly. "Like, I said things..."

Mor and Feyre exchanged a puzzled glance before turning their attention back to you. Feyre furrowed her brow, leaning in closer to you. "What... what things?"

You couldn't help but feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you, your cheeks flushing at the thought of last night. How had you gone from so confident to so shy now, shy at your own memories, at your own words?

Mark me.

I’m yours.

Fuck me like I'm yours.

With a clearing of your throat, you attempted to regain your composure, trying your best to act natural as you avoided meeting their eyes.

“Just things I can't look him in the face knowing that he heard," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze remained fixed on your hands, fidgeting with your nails in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from their gazes.

“Gods, Y/n,” Mor started, “What kinda stuff are you into?"

You snapped your head up to meet her gaze, a mixture of shock and disbelief evident on your face. "Not like that, Mor!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with indignation. The blush on your cheeks deepened. "Just very... intimate things," you clarified quickly.

You watched as Mor and Feyre shared another look.

"Hey, stop that," you interjected, pointing a finger between them.

Feyre raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Hmm? Stop what?"

You narrowed your eyes. “The looks.”

Again, Feyre glanced over at Mor– a movement so swift you nearly missed it.

"That! Stop that," you insisted.

They both let out sighs, small smiles playing on their lips.

"Y/n,” Mor said, “I think you're stressed because it's only been like, what? 12 hours?”

You gave a slight nod. She smiled in response, leaning forward in her chair slightly. “I'm sure it'll go away in a few days.”

Feyre chimed in, her voice equally as comforting. "If that's what you want, of course," she added.

You nodded to yourself, taking in their words. Maybe they were right. You were in a shock system, your emotions were all over the place. Everything would settle soon. You could handle a few days. A few days to let it all leave your system, a few days to fall back into the old rhythm between you and Cassian. Things would be back to normal within a week, you told yourself, nothing to worry about.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian had begun to realize that he had misread the situation entirely.

You were distant, more so than he’d ever experienced. At first, he wrote it off as a busy schedule. Even before you two had slept together, your schedules were hectic, causing your time together to be few and far between. But then he started observing you more, started noticing the way that you acted.

Cass was a physical male, he knew this. He loved to be around other people, loved to touch those around him— in both platonic and sexual ways, depending on the audience. So when you started to doge his cheek kisses, started to duck under the hand he’d move to wrap around your shoulder, he’d taken note.

It hit him last night, when everyone was gathered and sitting around the living room, talking about recent events. The plan was to go over any looming threats, collectively share all the information you had. When you arrived, everyone was already seated. You had stilled, your eyes falling on Cassian, and then on the empty space next him. It felt like hours that he watched you stand there, glancing between him and the cushion.

He fixed his position, adjusting his wings to make space for you, for them to fall behind you as you placed your head on his shoulder. But the movement never came, his shoulder remaining cold and untouched. Instead, you sat down timidly, pushing yourself further into the other end of the couch, leaning away from him.

The act, or the lack of it, led him to one conclusion: you regretted that night together. It made so much sense now, in his tired mind. The avoidance, the inability to even touch him, to be in the same room as him. It reeked of regret. How had he not realized sooner?

He felt a sense of guilt wash through him. You were supposed to be best friends– you were best friends. How had he missed such obvious signs? Cassian deflated.

Had he made you uncomfortable? With how open he’d been with you? His mind raced with thoughts. If he was a selfish male– which, often, he could be– he would start the conversation with you. He would confess to you that he thought about that night more often than he’d care to admit, that he wanted to repeat it every night– for the rest of his life, even. But Cassian wasn’t selfish when it came to one thing; he wasn’t selfish when it came to you. So he was faced with a new situation now, one he didn’t know how to navigate, one he couldn’t rely on battle strategies to overcome. And he was stuck. Completely and utterly stuck.

How could he possibly go back to normal? How could he return to the male he was before– the one who had never heard your sounds of ecstasy, one who had never felt you wrapped around him?

Sure, he was a strong male, able to withstand any torture, any battle— but he couldn’t withstand you. Couldn’t ignore the sweetness of your smell, the flutter in his chest that came to life when you laughed. He wanted to ignore it, oh how desperately he wanted to ignore it, but he couldn't. He couldn’t ignore it when images of you overtook his mind, couldn’t ignore it when he saw you everytime he closed his eyes, that he heard your whimpers in his sleep, heard the way you chanted his name like a prayer. He didn’t think he had it in him.

But he supposed he had to try. Because it was you.

And for you, he’d do anything. Even if that meant never speaking of the roaring in his heart.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You usually loved family brunches, as chaotic and loud as they could be.

But you weren’t looking forward to today.

Things with Cassian were still strange. You were willing to admit that they’d gotten slightly better, that now you could look at him without immediately remembering how his tongue felt on you. Before, it was seconds before you’d fall into a dream state, imagining yourself back in your bed with him a week prior. Now, it took a couple of minutes. You considered it progress. You could avoid him throughout the house, tiptoe around his door, keep note of his schedule— but interaction within a family meal was hard to bypass.

It had been a few days now, but if Cassian wasn’t going to mention anything, neither were you.

He hadn’t talked to you, couldn’t even look at you without clearing his throat awkwardly, without looking away. Had it been bad for him? All the thinking you’d done over it, mulling over every aspect, had left you reeling. You were exhausted– and incredibly frustrated. Sexually.

You stared at the table in front of you, eyes scanning each seat. Seating arrangements were never something explicitly discussed in your family, but the positions usually stayed the same, an unspoken order to how everyone naturally found their places around the table.

You always sat with Cassian and Azriel, sandwiched between them as their conversations veered into arguments over the most trivial matters—exchanges you explained as males being males. Big, illyrian babies. You always took the opportunity to bother Cass, siding with whatever Azriel’s view was just to see the mock offense play out on his face. He always gasped in disbelief, accusing you of lying, insisting that you actually agreed with him because you both thought the same about everything. Even though you always dismissed his words with a smile and a wave of your hand, he was always right. You did think the same– about everything. Until now.

Mor usually sat next to Amren, the pair drinking wine together while they traded offhanded comments about the rest of you. And then, of course, there was Rhysand and Feyre. Their chairs were always positioned so close together that it was almost as if they were connected, Rhysand's hand often finding its place intertwined with Feyre's— or when they weren't being subtle, resting possessively on her thigh.

Your eyes scanned over the empty seats at the table. Mor and Cassian had yet to sit down, leaving 3 empty seats: two next to Azriel, and one next to Amren– across the table. You took a deep breath. It was probably in everyone's best interest that you sat away from Cass.

You didn't want to make things awkward, didn't want him to lean in for conversation only to be hit with the overwhelming scent of your arousal. The last thing you wanted was to force him to pretend he didn't notice, to watch him struggle to act normal while you were clearly fawning over him. It would be mortifying– it had been mortifying. You knew Cassian would never want to make you feel uncomfortable, but it would put him in a strange position as someone who didn't see you in that way, someone who was trying to move on.

You decided it was best to wait it out a little longer before you could be around him properly again, give yourself time to regain control over your emotion. Until then, you’d keep your distance, avoiding situations that might intensify your feelings.

With a slight hesitation, you made your way towards the seat next to Amren, oblivious to Cassian's presence as he emerged from the kitchen. His familiar scent washed over you like a tidal wave, enveloping your senses in a way that had you melting– you feared that your legs would turn to jelly, that you would fall to the floor in front of him. Your grip on your plate tightened instinctively.

You looked up at Cass, meeting his gaze directly. Beautiful, beautiful hazel eyes peered down at you. They widened a fraction, his mouth slightly parting. You managed to give him a small smile, slightly breathless as your stomach tied itself into knots. You attempted to sidestep him, but he mirrored your movements, resulting in a clumsy dance of trying to avoid collision. With each step, you found yourselves inadvertently blocking each other's path once more, creating a scene that you knew would be comical had you not been the one stuck in it.

"Oh, sorry, I—" you started, your words interrupted by Cassian's chuckle of amusement. His laughter caused a flutter in your heart, a small smile making its way onto your face as a blush rose to your cheeks

With a casual gesture, he lifted his hand and plate high above, and you quickly ducked underneath, a wave of relief rolling through you. Scrambling over to Amren's side, you felt the weight of eyes on you, but you didn’t dare to look up, didn’t dare to see whose gaze it was. The last thing you wanted was to risk catching Cassian's eyes again.

As you settled into your seat, you focused on maintaining your composure, ensuring that no one else could sense—or The Mother forbid, smell—the emotions you were feeling: arousal, attraction… and something else. Something sweeter.

You turned your head to the side, meeting Amren’s gaze, her expression unreadable save for a raised eyebrow. With a soft murmur, you muttered, "Don't start.”

To your surprise, Amren's lips curved ever so slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. She didn't say anything in response, opting instead to take a leisurely sip from the crimson liquid in her cup.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian was surprised when you’d shown up to training, clad in your fighting leathers and a small smile on your face. His heart quickened its pace as his eyes landed on you, the sight of you filling him with a rush of unexpected excitement. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips before he even realized it, a warmth spreading through his body.

Your hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, swaying gently behind you with each purposeful step. As you walked, Cassian felt a surge of desire stirring within him, his eyes tracing your figure, taking in the way the leather clung to your body, how it accentuated every curve. He’d noticed how good you looked in your letters before, of course, but he’d been better at pushing the thoughts away, at refocusing himself. He found it incredibly more difficult now that he knew what you looked like underneath them. He wondered if you were still adorned in his marks, wondered what it would be like to strip you naked right here, take you on the floor.

He didn’t notice you had reached him, that you were standing in front of him with furrowed brows, until you were saying something. He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and hastily cleared his throat. "H-hey, Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

A small frown creased your brow as you tilted your head. "When have I ever missed a training session of ours?"

"Yeah, right, it's just," Cassian paused for a moment, “You’ve been so busy recently.”

You glanced away briefly, a flicker of guilt—or was it shame?—crossing your features before you turned back to him with a small smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I've been... busy," you admitted, your tone clearly apologetic. "Dealing with some stuff."

Cassian felt a tug on her heart, a sense of guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. Memories of your night together flooded his head, each vivid and pleasurable. He pictured your face, the way you spoke, the feel of your skin. Was he so engulfed in his affection towards you, so blinded by his lust, that he had missed any sign of your discomfort? Had you not enjoyed yourself?

"Well, uh, is everything okay?"

He watched as a faint smile graced your face, soft and reassuring.

“Yeah," you replied, “Yeah, I think so.”

Cassian felt a tug at his heartstrings, a warmth blooming in his chest like wildfire. His wings fell slightly– a movement of relief, a sense of comfortability filling him. His heart pounded against his ribcage, its steady rhythm echoing in his ears like the pounding of a drum. He wondered how you couldn’t hear it— prayed that you couldn’t.

"Well, good, I'm glad.”

"You ready to get your ass kicked?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face. You playfully punched him on the arm, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he’d missed. He took in every detail of your expression, savoring the way your features softened with amusement.

Despite the lightness of the gesture, so casual, so platonic, he couldn't help the heat that spread through him at the contact. The sensation lingered long after your hand retreated.

He chuckled, pushing his feelings down deeper into his chest. “As if.”

You both fell easily into your normal routine, sweat beginning to pool on your skin as you maneuvered around one another. Cassian paid extra attention to the way you moved, to how your body acted around him.

"You seem a bit distracted today," he remarked, his voice laced with playful amusement as he deftly dodged another one of your attacks, your favorite dagger gripped tightly in your hand. Your actions didn’t seem as fluid as normal, your movements staggered and uncertain.

You shot him a pointed look. Then, a small smirk played on the corners of your lips, your beautiful pink lips. "I could say the same," you countered. "Maybe if you focused more on your body than mine, you could actually beat me."

Cassian blinked in surprise, momentarily thrown off balance by the sudden change in tone. Were you… flirting with him? He felt a rush of excitement course through him, his heart leaping in his chest as blood rushed to both of his heads. Even if it was simply playful, he relished in the feeling, in the reality of you being able to banter with him once more.

"Oh yeah?" Cass replied, matching your playful tone. "I guess I'll just have to try harder, won't I?"

Cassian's eyes followed you intently, tracking every movement with precision. Your steps were lighter now, more agile, more calculated. He almost smirked at the fact that his words were riling you up, causing such observable differences. In one swift movement, you deflected his hand, your body falling closer to him. Instantly, Cassian's senses were overwhelmed by your presence, the scent of you filling his nostrils, sweet and intoxicating. A surge of desire coursed through him. You smelled so damn good. He wanted to grab you then, kiss you, undress yo-

The breath was knocked out of Cassian's chest as you skillfully knocked him off balance, sending him tumbling to the ground with a resounding thud. With a slow blink, he registered the movement, finding himself pinned beneath you, a dagger pressed against his throat.

There was a grin on your lips as you looked down at him triumphantly.

"For such a big male, you sure do go down easy," you teased.

His mind was instantly filled with Images of you sprawled out before him, memories of him falling to his knees at your glistening core. He smirked.

"I seem to recall you loving how easily I went down.”

You let out a small gasp of surprise– barely audible, but Cassian caught it. The sound sent a jolt straight down his core, straight to his cock. He watched as a blush crept onto your cheeks, a beautiful pink color dusting your skin.

He felt the weight of your touch ease, the tension in your fingers relenting against his skin. Your eyes met his for a moment before they drifted downward, lingering momentarily on his lips.

A single strand of your hair had broken free from your ponytail, cascading delicately over him like a silken tendril. Its faint touch tickled his forehead. Slowly, Cassian reached up, his fingers trailing along the curve of your cheek as he tenderly tucked the stray strand behind your ear. He kept his fingers there for a moment, tracing the shell of your ear, the same way he had done a week prior.

A mounting pressure swelled within his chest, something deep inside him pushing him to speak, urging him to confess these new feelings he had begun to realize– feelings for you. But just as he summoned the courage to speak, you shifted slightly, and Cassian’s eyes widened.

Oh fuck. Cassian thought. Oh no.

He was hard. Rock fucking hard.

Panic surged through him like a lightning bolt. Not now, he thought, not here. Not when you’d finally started acting normal around him, flirty even. You were going to be uncomfortable, put off by his weird attraction to you.

As he scrambled to regain his composure, Cassian's movements became hurried and erratic, his muscles tensing as he attempted to push himself upright. When his body shifted abruptly, you instinctively pulled away from him. He missed the frown that made its way onto your face, the hurt that flickered in your eyes. Instead, he was focused on positioning himself in a way that didn’t face you, a way where his evident arousal wasn’t so… evident.

With a hurried nod and a mumbled acknowledgment of your victory, Cassian swiftly made his exit.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Mor upended the wine bottle, allowing the last remnants to cascade into her glass with a satisfying glug. The evening sun casted warm hues through the windows of her apartment, a view that would have left you relaxed had it not been for your wound up mind.

"I didn't even realize I was flirting with him until it came out," you said, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I could've sworn he liked it! I mean, he matched the energy."

Your friends stared at you. A moment of silence passed. Then, Amren's voice cut through the air. "I'm failing to see a problem," she stated bluntly, fixing you with her narrow gaze.

"Yeah, isn't this good?" Feyre chimed in, her voice gentle but firm. "You liked it, right?"

You let out a small sigh.

"Yeah, I liked it," you admitted, leaning back against the couch. "But then, a few moments later, he was practically pushing me off him and leaving."

It was a wrong move on your part— the flirting, that is. You were just beginning to fall into a normal pace with Cass, finally being able to be around him without wanting to rip his clothes off. And now you were back in the same position, a weird tension wrapped around you and your best friend. It wasn’t like you had planned on flirting with him, but it didn’t change the fact that you liked it. You thought he’d liked it too, could have sworn you saw a gleam in his eyes.

You let out another sigh, a sound laced with frustration.

"And you know what else?" you continued, your tone escalating. "He called me baby. Like who calls someone baby when they're inside them and then just leaves in the morning, no mention of it? And now he wants to act all normal? But will flirt with me and then run away? It's cruel."

Feyre's eyes widened slightly, your words registering in her mind as fast as you spilled them. She blinked, turning to exchange a quick glance with Mor– the blonde seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the entertainment, her lips turned up into an amused smile.

You caught the exchanged glance, your eyes fitting onto Mor as she brought her glass to her lips. She raised an eyebrow at you, meeting your gaze.

"Don't even say it,” you said, catching the knowing glint in her eyes.

Mor chuckled.

"Babe, I literally haven’t said a thing since you walked in."

You stilled. She was right. You were rambling, rambling like a horny teenager with a silly crush. You sank further into yourself, running your hands down your face in frustration.

"Are you a mind reader, girl?"

You scrunched your face in confusion as you turned to face Amren.

"No?"

"Exactly," she retorted, "Figure out what you want and then talk to him. No need to be children about it."

You recoiled slightly at the bluntness of her words, feeling a pang of irritation at the implied criticism. But deep down, you knew she was right. But what did you want? You didn’t like the unease that filled moments with him, you didn’t like how you had to overthink everything you did, everything you said. But did you truly want things to go back to how they were before? Or did you want something else?

With a resigned sigh, you allowed yourself to lean into Feyre's comforting presence, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to dissipate as she placed her head on top of yours. You let your mind spiral as your friends began talking amongst themselves.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Rhys found it funny at first, hilarious even.

Seeing Cassian so riled up, so flustered, was amusing. But it had been hours now, and Rhysand had work to attend to— important court affairs that he couldn't focus on while Cass was spilling his guts out like a common court gossip. What was once entertaining now felt exhausting. Rhysand felt like he had a child. Either that, or an annoyingly vocal pet.

Rhys let out a chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the study. Cassian came to an abrupt halt, shooting a sharp glare at his brother.

"What's so funny about this?" Cassian demanded.

Rhys regarded him with a knowing look, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "All of it," he replied with a small shrug. "You’re one of the most feared males, and here you are, stumbling over one night with Y/n. It's fascinating."

Cassian’s glare only sharpened, his jaw clenched. Cassian was stumbling. After practically running away from you the other day, he’d found it hard to face you again. Embarrassment filled him when he thought of it, when he thought of how easy it was for him to get riled up at the thought of you, how embarrassing it was for him to have to run off and rub himself raw every time you smiled at him. He was a grown male – a terrifying warrior– and he’d almost finished in his damn fighting leathers at the smell of you.

He thought it was rough before, after that first night at Rita’s, that week of lusting after you so hard. But it was much worse now after having experienced it, after knowing how fucking fantastic it was to fuck you, to make you moan.

"Don't judge me," Cassian snapped, his tone defensive. "You weren't the Lord of calm and collected when you and Feyre started moving past friendship."

Rhys raised an eyebrow. "Are you comparing this situation to me and my mate?"

Cassian paused for a moment. The look Rhysand gave him made him feel like a child caught with his pants down. He glanced away for a brief moment, collecting his thoughts, before meeting Rhys's gaze again. He frowned. "Shut up," he growled, his tone still gruff, but with a hint of sheepishness that Rhysand didn’t fail to pick up on.

What was Cassian supposed to do? Should he live with his feelings for you in secret? Pretend they didn't exist in order to return back to normal with you? He supposed he could ignore them, shove them far into a crawlspace in his mind, leave them to collect dust. But it wasn’t realistic. The mere sight of you sent shivers across his body, the thought of you alone made him horny enough to be incapable of rational thought.

Pushing himself off his chair, Rhys walked around his desk to where Cassian stood, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. With a firm touch, he clapped a hand on Cassian’s shoulder.

"Cassian, brother," Rhysand began as he guided them both towards the door. "You know that I love you."

Cassian's brows furrowed at the sudden statement, but his frown softened into a small as he reciprocated the sentiment. "I love you too, man," he replied.

"And that I'd die for you.”

Cassian nodded, his brows furrowing deeper.

"So take this the way that you wish," Rhysand concluded, his voice trailing off as he gave Cassian a final nudge forward.

Cass stumbled forward slightly, face twisted in confusion as he turned to Rhysand– only to find himself met with the sight of the door slamming shut in his face. Cassian’s mouth fell open in offense. A sense of frustration prickling over him, soon turning into a wave of embarrassment.

"You're a prick, Rhysand!" he exclaimed, shooting a glare at the closed door.

Rhysand's laughter echoed from behind the door, a sound that only served to further fuel Cassian’s annoyance. With a shake of his head, Cass turned away, his steps heavy with frustration as he made his way down the hallway.

Fix your mess, brother. Rhysand's voice echoed in his mind. It's leaving you very exposed.

Cassian flinched internally as Rhys emphasized his point with a firm tap against his mental shields.

Fuck you.

No thanks, Rhysand swiftly replied, Wouldn’t want you to finish in your fighting leathers at the smell of me.

Cassian growled as he forcefully shoved Rhys out of his mind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian’s stomach clenched as he rounded the corner, catching sight of you standing outside his door, hand poised to knock.

"Y/n?"

You let out a startled sound, a mix between a gasp and a shriek, as your hand flew to your chest, your eyes wide with surprise. "Gods,” you breathed out, looking at Cassian as your heartbeat slowed. “You scared me.”

Cassian smiled at your reaction, a warmth spreading through him as the sound of your sweet voice filled his ears. With a few quick strides, he closed the distance between you, his gaze softening as he took in your presence.

"Sorry," he said softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he approached you with a small smile. “What’re you doing?”

Your cheeks flushed at the sight of his smile, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. How embarrassing. It’s literally only been a minute. You blinked, clearing your head of your thoughts. "Oh, I was looking for you.”

Cassian’s smile turned into a grin as he tilted his head with a small laugh. "Yeah, sweetheart, I gathered that much.”

Your heart fluttered at the sound of the pet name, a wave of longing washing over you as you realized how much you had missed hearing it. It had been over a week since you last heard it, over a week since Cass had been comfortable enough to use it once more. Gods, had you missed him—the way his voice sounded, the warmth of his smile, the comfort of his presence. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian.

He stood before you, his gaze warm and tender as he took in your presence, savoring the moment, tracing the features of your face with his eyes. For a brief instant, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the dimly lit hallway, surrounded by quiet as you took each other in.

"Wanna go in?" he asked, giving a small nod towards the door behind you. "Or we could stand out here. I'm good with either.”

The sound of his teasing wrapped around you, and you gave him a jokingly unamused face, a small laugh escaping your lips. "Loser, " you replied, rolling your eyes with a smile. You turned to open his door, walking into his room.

The smell of him instantly surrounded you– peaceful nights and crackling fires, a warmth that only he caused within you. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as your smile deepended. You heard the sound of the door close softly behind you.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, each one clamoring for attention as you tried to find the right words to say. You still weren’t sure what you wanted to tell him, what you even wanted from him.

"I want to talk about the other night," you blurted out, turning to face him. Instantly, you felt a rush of nerves flood through you, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Y’know, when we fucked.”

Cassian's demeanor shifted slightly as he stilled. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about that, too.”

“You have?”

Cassian nodded, his movements hesitant as he ran a hand through his hair."Yeah," he admitted, "I wasn't sure how to approach it.”

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, your pulse quickening. His gaze bounced around the room, falling everywhere but your face. You frowned, waiting for his eyes to settle on you, wanting to see the brown hues you’d grown to love so much.

His gaze finally met yours.

"I know you regret it. We can move on and go back to normal. I promise."

You frowned, your face falling at his words.

"Regret it?"

Your tone was a clear indicator that Cassian had said something wrong. But now he was confused, unsure of what he said that warranted your confusion.

"Yeah, it seemed pretty clear.”

You shook your head. "What are you talking about?" you repeated, your voice now tinged with frustration. Had Cassian believed you didn’t enjoy yourself? Had he been thinking that the entire time?

"You won't even touch me," Cassian stated matter-of-factly. There was a sense of frustration in his voice that seeped into his words.

"Because whenever I touch you," you said, your voice now slightly trembling, "I feel this weird warmth that makes me want you to rip my clothes off!"

The confession spilled from your lips before you could stop it, the raw honesty of your feelings washing over you in a wave of embarrassment and frustration. Your eyes widened as you watched Cassian take in your words.

“Well I want to rip your clothes off!”

His admission filled you with a sense of relief that had you releasing a breath. The relief quickly turned into arousal, a fire beginning to simmer underneath your skin, a warmth spreading through your veins. You wanted to pull him into a kiss, to run your hands along his chest.

"You do?"

"Yes!" Cassian replied, his voice deep and guttural, sending a shiver down your spine. The intensity in his tone stirred a primal desire that pulsed with an undeniable heat. He took a few large strides towards you, stopping so he was directly in front of you, looking down at your face.

Your chest tightened, your heart fluttering erratically in its beat. You quickly reined in your impulses, forcing yourself to hold back from making any rash movements. Rushing into things had only led to complications last time– you were not going to repeat the same mistakes.

Amren's words echoed in your mind. You needed to think about what you wanted— what you truly wanted. And deep down, you knew the answer. All you wanted was Cassian. You had always wanted Cassian. But the thought of risking your friendship, of irreparably altering the dynamic between you, filled you with a sense of unease that you wanted to run away from.

Returning to normal seemed like the safest option, the path of least resistance. Keeping your friendship intact, with no risk of crossing boundaries or venturing into uncharted territory, felt like the logical choice. But as Cassian stood before you, his gaze filled with longing, you weren’t so sure if the safest option was what you wanted.

"But that's a problem!" you said, "I don’t want to risk ruining this," you continued, gesturing between the two of you. "This amazing and strong friendship we've built, because we just want to fuck each other."

“Just want to fuck each other? Is that all this is?” He paused for a moment. “Is that what you want?’

You hesitated. “I don’t know," you admitted, your voice soft. "But I've thought about it, and I could do it, for you. Because I am really, really attracted to you."

Cassian's heart skipped a beat at your words. He wanted to grin at the emphasis of his attractiveness, to poke fun at how much you liked him, but he found himself caught up on two words that you had uttered.

"For me?" he repeated, a slight frown on his face. “What do you mean for me?”

You let out a deep breath, a sigh escaping your lips as you glanced to the side before meeting his gaze again. "C’mon, Cass. You don’t do romance.”

Cassian's brows furrowed in surprise, a hint of offense flashing in his eyes. "What are you talking about? I do romance just fine," he protested, his voice defensive.

"You've never had a girlfriend, or any serious relationship for that matter," you pointed out, "And you've been around a long time, you old fuck."

"Wrong. There was that one female that one time."

You stared at him blankly, your mouth slightly parted.

"You know, with the…the hair," he continued, gesturing vaguely to his own body, mimicking the flow of long hair.

The corners of your lips turned up as you let out a small laugh of disbelief. He was an idiot. You had feelings for an idiot.

"Your attention to detail truly astounds me, Cass," you remarked dryly. "I'm surprised Azriel isn't worried about his position as our court's Spymaster. Should I go tell him that his job may be up for grabs?"

Cassian wanted to laugh, but he recognized your attempts to deflect instantly, deciding to place a hand on your arm. His eyes swiftly scanned your features, craning his head down to catch your gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly, calling your attention back to him. Your eyes met his almost instantly.

"Yes?"

"I don’t want to just fuck you," Cassian said, his hand coming to rest against your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I mean, I do. Real bad. Reaaaal bad," he added with a hint of playful exaggeration. “But it's not just that.”

"Then what is it?"

"I want all of it.”

His other hand moved up to hold your other cheek. He gazed at you intently, his eyes soft with a look of longing that had you melting into his touch. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in tandem. You brought your hands up to hold his wrists, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, and exhaled deeply, your brows furrowing with uncertainty.

"What if we don't work and this turns into something really bad?"

Cassian's gaze softened, his thumbs gently tracing circles on your cheeks as he considered your question. "Or, hear me out," he began, his voice steady and filled with conviction, "What if this is something really good?"

"But what if it’s not?" you repeated, your voice heavy with worry. "I mean, you've already seen me naked and I don’t know how to act.”

Cassian grinned at the comment, his mind drifting off to the images of you buried into his mind. But his expression quickly softened, falling back into the seriousness that you needed. "Hey," he said gently, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. "Give me some credit."

You let out a small sigh and nodded softly. Cassian was always great at reeling you in when he needed to, at calling out your pessimistic tendencies. Maybe he was right. You weren’t giving your best friend enough credit. He wouldn’t let anything ruin your friendship— centuries of your bond had proven this. If he was confident in this, in you, you should be too. You looked at him, still quiet. His eyes softened.

"Life would suck absolute balls without you," Cass said, adding with a small clarifying grin, "In a bad way."

You playfully rolled your eyes at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “How romantic.”

Cassian’s grin only widened, his thumb tracing along the curve of your smile line, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. You relished in the feeling of his hands on you, on the heat his movements sent through your body.

"Okay, maybe I could stand to work on my romancing," he chuckled, a sound that made your heart swell. "But what I’m trying to say is… I like you," he confessed, his voice brimming with a sincerity that made you breathless. "You’re my best friend, and you’re so beautiful, and so hot. And I like you."

"You like me?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck yeah I do.”

His hazel eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, an intensity that made you feel exposed before him, as if his gaze had the power to strip away every layer of doubt, of apprehension.

"Loser," you whispered, your voice soft, teasing. You felt a blush on your cheeks, a heat that traveled up your neck. There was something about the way he spoke to you, about the confessions he had made, something that made you feel timid, meek.

Cassian's grip tightened ever so slightly on the base of your neck, slowly pulling you even closer to him. You ran your hands along his wrists, feeling the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

Cassian's voice lowered. "Maybe, for you." he murmured, his gaze holding yours with unwavering intensity. "Do you like me too?"

“Maybe.”

"Maybe?" Cassian repeated, his voice a low rumble. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hunger that made your core clench. Leaning in closer, he closed the distance between you, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered into your ear. "Seemed a bit more than maybe when you were writhing on my cock.”

His warm breath sent shivers down your spine, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You felt his stubble against your cheeks, his hands tightening around the base of your neck.

Your breath hitched, “Cassian.”

"Yeah, baby?"

The name had you practically melting in his touch. Cassian's voice was laced with a husky warmth that sent a shiver down your spine, a neediness pooling at your core. As he spoke, his lips brushed softly against your cheeks, his mouth moving lower, caressing the sensitive skin of your neck with a gentle fervor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Each kiss sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through you, each hair on your body on end. The kisses were gentle, passionate, and you were already soaked, your breath ragged and heavy. You could smell your own arousal, could smell his even stronger. The scent made your mouth go dry, made you excited at the images that began to form in your mind.

"Kiss me."

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Instantly, Cassian responded to your plea, his lips meeting yours in a heavy kiss that left you breathless. His hands held your face as you reached out to pull him closer, your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair, gripping at them as he moaned into your mouth.

His touch was sure, confident, as he began to help you shed your clothes, fingers fumbling with buttons and ties in a hurry. Your hands were frantic as you helped him peel his shirt off, trailing a finger across his wings as he groaned. His pants came off next, the sweats easily pulled down and discarded. You ran your hand along his clothed length, hard and ready underneath this underwear— those quickly came off too, your fingers eagerly helping to rip them off.

There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt— not now, not anymore. Every touch of his set your skin on fire, igniting a passion that you could feel consuming you with every second, with every gasp you let out. And you welcomed it, eagerly pulling him closer, wanting to be as close to him as possible, wanting to make up for lost time, for the entirety of this week, for the centuries you’d spent missing out on this.

You could feel how ready you were for him, wet and slick between your thighs, legs rubbing together impatiently as he pulled apart to fully scan your naked form before him. It was then that you became aware of the open air on your skin, at how your nipples responded to the chill, peaked, pink, and eager. Your mouth went dry at the sight of Cassian, his body illuminated by the faint faelight in his room, his wings extended out proudly, dominant.

“You’re fucking stunning, sweetheart,” he praised, “I don’t tell you that enough, huh?”

And then he was on you again, wide hands, warm and rough with callouses and scars, ran up the length of you, one pulling you in by the base of your neck, the other grabbing at your breasts. You registered some movement, your steps taking you backwards as Cassian led you to his bed. When the backs of your calves hit the base of his mattress, you fell back onto his bed, pulling him with you.

His hands were all over you again, grabbing at your skin, at your waist, roughly bringing your breasts into his palm. You weaved your fingers through his hair, grabbing at his scalp as he lowered his mouth onto your neck, trailing kisses down your body.

You looked down at him, watching as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking at it while you mewed underneath him. He released it with a small pop, and then he was pulling away slightly, a finger trailing over a small spot on your skin where a previous mark of his was left, now small, almost faded. He glanced up at you, a look in his eyes that made you gasp, made you clench everything below your waist.

“We can’t have these disappearing, now can we?”

He brought his mouth back onto your skin, sucking and biting at the area, his other hand roughly palming at your other breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers. You pulled at his hair even harder, small sounds of ecstasy falling from your lips like gentle rain. Cassian welcomed the sounds, feeling his heart flutter, feeling his cock grow harder with every moan he pulled from you.

“Better,” Cassian said, lifting himself off you with a wolfish grin “Now everyone will know who you belong to.”

The words shouldn’t have made you melt as much as they did, shouldn’t have made your cunt throb at the idea— but it did. Every part of your body was filled with a warmth that spread through you, consuming you in a lustful, vulnerable haze. You couldn’t say anything in response, couldn’t move. All that you could do was whisper his name, chant it over and over again like it was the only word you knew, the only word you needed.

"Fuck," Cass groaned, meeting your gaze as he pushed himself upright. His face was pinker than before, flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, his large fingers wrapping around his cock. He pumped once, then twice. You watched as Cassian lowered himself, shuffling between your spread legs. He wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs, pulling them apart further to slot himself in between. His wings shivered behind him. He looked up, his hair falling over his forehead, into his brown eyes.

“Been dreamin of this since that night.”

And then he dragged a finger up your core, collecting the wetness that had pooled, glistening and gorgeous before him. You jumped, an immediate response to his touch, and Cass cooed softly in response, continuing his exploration until his finger was resting on your sensitive clit. It was already throbbing beneath his touch, a hot pulse of desire that seemed to radiate throughout your entire body.

“So needy,” he whispered, in awe. “And so damn wet, Cauldron baby, this all for me?”

He circled it carefully, moving slowly and gently, teasing your clit with delicate, little nudges. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and anticipation that left you breathless and craving more. Cassian knew, now, exactly how to drive you wild. You could feel your arousal building, your body responding to his every touch.

“Oh Gods,” you whispered, hands fisting your sheets. “Please.”

You weren’t sure exactly what it was you were begging for, what you wanted more. You wanted him, wanted to feel him, his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

He closed his mouth around you, his tongue pressed firmly against you as he gently sucked. You let out a high-pitched gasp, your jaw hanging open, eyes tightly shut as vibrant colors danced behind your eyelids, sparkling like fireworks, as Cassian continued to lick and suck at you, repeating the same rhythmic pattern. You arched your back, meeting his tongue with eager enthusiasm.

Cassian pulled back slightly and smirked, bringing his middle and pointer fingers to his mouth, getting them wet with his saliva before pushing them into you. Cass groaned at how easily they slid in, at the glistening wetness that pooled around your hole. Your head fell back onto the mattress, overwhelmed with the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Cass.”

Cassian's tongue moved greedily over your clit as your cunt fluttered around the base of his fingers, pulling him in closer, drawing in his touch even more. Cassian swore at the sensation, his lips parting around your cunt as he sucked hard. Your back arched, legs falling away, ass lifted up for his attention. You pushed yourself against his mouth, against his fingers, unrestrained, eyes tightly shut, hands fumbling for something to grab onto.

“That’s it baby, say my name,” Cass groaned, pulling his mouth from your cunt, pupils blown wide as he stared up at you. He increased the speed of his fingers, curling them to massage the inside of your walls.“Touch your tits for me, sweetheart, play w’them.”

And you did. Your hands moved to your breasts, grabbing them roughly, rolling your nipples in between your fingers as he worked his tongue around your clit, fucking you with his fingers.

Then you were gripping him by the base of his neck, hands weaving into his hair as you pulled him up to you, his body frantically crawling over yours, hands braced on the mattress. Your lips met his with urgency, a mix of greed and desperation. You sighed in satisfaction as Cass groaned, opening his mouth for you immediately. You pushed further into him with your tongue, a hand sliding further into his hair and tugging gently. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, a heat rushing through your body at the memory of him merely moments ago, suffocating between your legs, lapping at you like a male dying of dehydration.

When you pulled apart, you were breathless, foreheads leaning against each other. You looked at him through your lashes, lids heavy with lust, with desperation to be filled with him.

“I need you inside me.”

Your voice was quiet, a soft plea that made Cassian feel feral. He felt it straight down to his cock, throbbing and ready, aching to feel you clenching around him, to feel you falling apart.

In a swift movement, he stood up and flipped you over, your breath leaving your lungs. You let out a small squeal as he pulled you onto your knees, following the movement to kneel behind you once more. He roughly spread your legs so that you were spread bare before him, your glistening cunt on full display. He let out an animalistic groan, his hands roughly grabbing your ass, kneading the flesh roughly.

“You’re telling me I could’ve had you like this all week?”

The sound of his voice alone made you moan, made you squirm underneath him as his hands ran up and down your hips, down to your thighs. He ran finger through the wetness at your core, leaving hot, wet, and open kisses on the backs of your thighs. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, his finger still running through your folds. You let out a sigh of protest at the removal of his mouth, but soon you felt his lips down on your ass once more— as he bit the skin, leaving a mark of ownership, a claim to him.

“Cassian!”

He stood up, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of you before him, spread wide and beautiful, slick and wet, shining with anticipation for him, for his cock. You looked over your shoulder, watching as Cass smirked, lifting a hand slowly.

The first smack on your ass was startling, hard enough to warm you, heat blooming over the curve of you keened, eyes slipping shut. Your head fell back forward, resting on the mattress. He stroked his cock, allowing it to glide against your entrance until both of you were slick with your desire.

“You’ve made me wait. I want to hear you beg for it, sweetheart.” You could hear the grin in his voice as he slapped your other ass cheek. “Show me how much you want me."

You sucked in a breath and pushed your ass out further, back arched real pretty, your cheek squished against his mattress, pressing into the soft sheets below you.

“Cass, please, please.”

Cassian let out a pained groan and then pressed against you, his chest melting onto your back as his cock slid in, creating a tight, hot, wet stretch. His body pressed against yours even harder, the warmth of his skin seeping into, what felt like, your very being. You felt the muscles in his thighs against you, working in rhythm of his movements as he fucked you, thrusting into you with a pace that had you writhing underneath him. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix that only heightened the sensations coursing through your body, a smell that made you drool.

“I missed this,” Cassian growled, “Couldn’t stop thinking about fucking this pretty pussy.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, lost in a haze of pure pleasure as you focused on the feeling of Cassian inside you. Each thrust sent cool, electric, shivers down your spine, the sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock causing you to clench around him, begging for more.

His hands gripped your hips with a firm grasp as he drove himself deeper into your body.The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, ragged breaths and incoherent praises falling from both of your lips. With one hand still on your hip, Cassian leaned forward and sunk his other into your hair, tugging you back up with him— a little rough, possessive. He brought your face to his, cheek to cheek as he murmured against you, his breath hot.

“Fuck, Gods, Y/n,” he groaned out, his voice raspy, deep. He sounded breathless, the words stuttering out of him with every hard thrust. All you could do was moan, letting your body emit every sound that formed in your throat. Cassian’s hands were heavy and bruising, exploring every inch of you as he fucked into you harder, faster. Palming at your hips, your stomach, over the column of your throat. A hand settled there, squeezing at the tender flesh on your neck.

“Whose pussy is this? Huh?”

He asked, breath harsh, voice wrecked. The heat of his body against you made you feel like you were on fire, every part of you being filled with him, warm and pliant in his hands. You wanted to sob with it all, at the pleasure that you were feeling, at the flutter in your chest and the coiling in your stomach.

“Yours,” you managed to whisper, moving a hand behind your head to frame his face, to delve your fingers into his soft, messy hair. You felt Cassian twitching inside of you, his grip tightening on your throat, the other hand gripping onto your tits.

“Yeah, baby,” His voice filled your ears as your head fell back into his, his tongue running alongside the side of your neck. He gave you a small bite, quickly sucking to soothe the pain. “Fuckin’ made for me, sweetheart.”

His hand dropped from your breasts, trailing down your body as he rutted into you faster. His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud. You arched into him, your hand grabbing at his hair tighter, harder, causing him to groan into your neck. His cock slid deep inside you, filling you completely, and you swore you could feel every vein and every ridge as it rubbed against your sensitive walls, as his length stretched you out with every stroke. It was all so overwhelming, suffocating in the best possible way, your pleasure building up, coiling deep within your core.

The sounds you were emitting made Cassian feel as if he truly were a God, chasing after your release, every sweet sound of yours fueling him to take you, to make you his.

"Cass, oh gods, Cass, please."

His name on your lips drove him even wilder, thrusting into you harder.

"I know, baby. I can feel it. Come for me, come with me."

You felt Cassian’s heart pounding on your back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you. And with another roll of his hips, you were falling apart, clenching around him, both of your eyes slamming shut as he tumbled over after you, falling into the bed. The sensation of your pussy tightening around him caused his own coil to snap, one final thrust into you before he was filling you with his desire, coating the walls of your cunt with his seed.

He pulled out, cock slightly limp, glistening with your combined fluids— a trail of his cum and your wetness tied you two together, his seed slowly dripping down your core. The sight of it alone had his cock twitching again, stirring at the fact that you were filled with him.

It was beautiful— you were beautiful, breathless before him, body limp with ragged breaths. Cassian was a lucky, lucky man.

That thought also made his cock stir again.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

As you leaned back against Cassian's chest in the warmth of the bath, a sense of peace washed over you, gentle and comforting. You welcomed it with open arms, your tired, achy muscles relaxing in the water. Steam filled the room around you, creating a cozy cocoon of comfort, a quiet air that made your heart hum. Cassian's arms encircled you protectively as you leaned against his chest, feeling each rise and fall of his breaths.

Cassian was gentle when you had finished, his touch soft as you laid on the bed, watching as he brought a warm cloth to your body. He was adamant on being a gentleman, on being tender as he cleaned you up, on running a bath that he had insisted on carrying you to. There was a deeper care, a thoughtfulness in his actions now that touched your heart, made it flutter in a way that had you blushing, cheeks tinged pink with admiration.

With a soft chuckle, you broke the comfortable silence, your voice filled with a soft tone that made Cassian’s heart beat faster.

“You like me,” you whispered, as you ran your hands along his arm.

“Actually,” he breathed, placing a small kiss to the top of your head. “I think I’m in love with you.”

And then, as his words sank in, a wide smile spread across your face. You turned to look at him, a rush of warmth flooding your chest as you met his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied, his own smile mirroring yours.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: for everyone who asked for a part 2, i hope you luved this as much as i did. i just luv these two dummies. be on the look out for a lil valentines day inspired blub of them <;3

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yanderenightmare · 3 months

Note

step daddy puts you in you place. your place being on his fat cock. please 😩

TW: stepcest, nsfw, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, size-difference, age-difference, Daddy kink

gn reader - fem labels (princess)

Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile.

He should have been strict with you from the very start. But... then he wouldn't reach what satisfaction dethroning a spoiled princess gives. The whole point is for you to show regret and remorse – repent your sins – or else you’ll have learned nothing.

In the end, you’ll wish you’d made different choices – been more grateful for all he gave you instead of just taking his goodwill and kind patience for granted.

Before you even know what’s happening, before your spoiled-rotten mind can even comprehend where your bitchy attitude has landed your bratty ass, it’s already too late for apologies.

But, hell... it would have been no fun in making you kneel if you didn't fight back just a smidge – if you didn’t tire yourself out and look up at him with that adorable scornful scowl – so pouty and grumpy with so many vicious obscenities on your tongue, where you deserve nothing but having your potty-mouth washed clean of all nasty protests and filthy comments along with a good thorough reminder of who’s in charge.

Poor little brat, you didn't know what you had coming, did you? Completely oblivious to the fact that your useless fists and aimless kicking do you no good whatsoever besides putting an amused smile on his face.

Poor little brat, you shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about anything anymore – Daddy’s heard your prayers and is going to be teaching you some proper manners from now on. Giving you the full length of his cock. Daddy’ll make sure his little monster is all tuckered out before nap time – you can count your bratty ass on it.

He’ll have fucked you into a grateful puddle before bedtime – reduce you to nothing more than a little dummy on his dick – a pleasure pet with your favorite toy stuffed up your taunt hole, pounding you silly until you know nothing else but how much you love your daddy.

Chanting it in choked, broken, needy little moans, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy~” when he’s successfully bent your stubborn will and reduced you to nothing but his happy little fuck-toy.

The funny thing is that the slap to your ass does nothing but make you drown even further into the pleasure lake of his black sheets.

You’re so cute lying there in your own mess – soaked in sweat and cum with your tiny fists gripping the comforter like it’s the only thing grounding you sept for the strong hands holding your hips – lifting you to meet his sharp thrusts angled deep into your stomach when he splits you apart from the back for the umpteenth time.

It makes you see black, it makes you see white, where your core bursts with color, as he makes you wail out like a filthy little whore in heat – holding your sex with big fat fingers, making you cum again while receiving every thick inch of Daddy’s meat.

It doesn't get any cuter than your round face mushed into the silk covers – glossy pout wet with drool and tears, cheeks swollen and dewy – fucked completely stupid – droopy eyes soft like cotton, with your little red tongue licking the air between parted lips, panting and mewling for him – causing his knife-sharp hungry-hearted grin to twist and curl and grow ever so eerily wider as he fucks you harder and faster and deeper and louder.

BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa, AFO, All Might

JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji

AOT – Erwin, Zeke

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

2K notes · View notes

gojipink · 2 months

Text

saying sorry 4 dummies

ஐ ft. childe, diluc, xiao

ஐ summary. how they say sorry in their own way after an argument!

ஐ warnings. none, SFW, fem!reader

childe

he stands at the doorway swallowing a little thickly at the sight of you unmoving from your spot on the couch, eyes glued to your book.

normally, you would bound over to him with a big smile and plant a kiss on his lips to welcome him home but the two of you are still in the recovering phase after an enormous fight, a fight that left a few scars and bleeding hearts.

“h-hi baby…um i got us some dinner!”

you look up at him with a little smile, “oh thanks, what’d you get?”

“i got us a whole peking duck and some veggie side dishes,” he states rather proudly holding up the bags for you to see.

“a pek- ajax that's so expensive?!” you gasp out standing from your spot on the couch, walking over to him peeking inside the plastic bags.

“yeah well…i don’ know,” he starts a little sheepishly, “i just wanted to have a nice meal with you after well…y’know…i just wanted to treat my girl, is all…”

you sigh before softly laughing, taking a to-go bag from him, “thank you,” leaning up to press a lingering kiss to his cheek, “it smells delicious. i'll set these up on some plates while you get ready?”

his eyes close at the feeling of your lips on his skin, feeling the gap the argument created between the two of you slowly begin to close. he nods wordlessly at your suggestion, not yet fully trusting his voice to sound steady, before hurrying into the bedroom to change and wash up.

you begin to set the table, putting plates and drinks at you and childe’s designated seating spots at the little round table across from each other.

coming back out from the bedroom, childe watches you for a second with soft eyes as you stand in the kitchen transferring the food onto big plates. walking towards you, he wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his chest firmly against your back while he rests his cheek against the crown of your head.

“honey, it's a little difficult to move with you pressing on me like this,” you voice, though you dont try to wiggle out of his hold, actually leaning back further into him.

he pouts to himself but doesn't move an inch until you're handing him a plate to take over to the table.

after all the food has been placed neatly in the middle, you both sit down in your usual spots.

glancing up at him you offer him a little appreciative smile, “thank you for dinner, babe, it looks really good!”

childe smiles at you and although you two have sat in this arrangement for ages now, he can't help but feel miles away from you. sliding his dinner plate and drink over to the chair next to you, you giggle at him knowing he’s feeling a little clingy.

“what are you doing, ajax?” you laugh at him

settling into the chair he places a hand on your thigh, his thumb lovingly caressing your skin, knees touching.

“just wanna be close to you, princess,” he shoots you his classic boyish grin before spooning some food onto his plate. gathering some duck and veggies and folding it all in the wrap, he holds it out to you.

“say ahhh”

diluc

he stares at the splayed pile of paperwork on his desk, words blurring and blending together while he sits, zoned out. his own mind torturing him by replaying your disappointed and upset expression over and over again. the argument was small, nothing more than a small frustrated spat between lovers. though, it affects diluc all the same.

diluc tried to fix it then, tried to apologize immediately at the sight of your downcasted eyes. But before he could get a word out, you mumbled that you needed some air and walked out the mansion, leaving him to stew in his own anxiety.

heaving a heavy sigh, he tosses the reports onto his desk and slumps back into the backrest of his chair, bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes. he just wants you to be home. wants you to be by his side and smiling at him and talking about your day with him. wants to hold you close and tell you he’s sorry for unloading any frustration and any stress onto you when you didn't deserve it.

a knock at his office doors breaks him out of his turbulent thoughts.

“come in…” he sighed, thinking it must be elzar coming in with something work related. however, when you quietly slip into his office, he immediately stands in surprise, the legs of the chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floors.

“darling-”

“i um…i just wanted to bring you something to eat.” you say softly, placing a little to-go box on his desk. “i know you probably haven't eaten yet today, so i thought i would bring you something after strolling around the city…”

coming around the corner of his desk, his heart melts at your simple yet caring gesture, “that's very kind, my love, thank you.”

“and um…” looking up at him a little shyly, “i just wanted to say im sorry for, well, earlier. i shouldn’t have gotten so upset and i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

“nonono, love,” hastily he closes the distance between you two, his hands coming up to rub at your shoulders, “you don't need to apologize. i’m the one who needs to be saying sorry. i shouldn’t have taken any sort of frustration out on you, you didn’t deserve that.”

giving him a small thankful smile, you reach up to press a sweet kiss to his lips which he happily reciprocates.

“to be honest, i don't know what we were even arguing about,” you whispered after pulling an inch away. he smiles and rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing to bask in your presence, “i don't either.”

heart two hundred times lighter than it was when you walked in, you pull away from him smiling, “well, i shall leave you to work then, ‘luc.”

catching your hand before you fully turn away from him, his face suddenly dusted a light pink.

“actually, darling, i was wondering if you wanted to stay? here in the office, i mean. with me. while i work.”

you look at him with amusement in your eyes as diluc ineloquently stumbles out his request, an extremely rare sight.

lacing your fingers with his, you step forward to plant a chaste kiss to his cheek, “i would love nothing more.”

xiao

his time with you is so short. he’s hyper aware of that fact. his time with you is too short to be wasted on arguments and silent treatments or have any kind of lingering tension. xiao doesn't have that much experience when it comes to dealing with humans or forming a relationship with one, much less a romantic relationship with one.

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other watching your figure walk across a shorter neighboring mountain top. he sighs to himself thinking back to earlier this morning when the two of you were engaged in a flurry of heated exchanges. xiao didn’t mean to take it as far as he did, didn't mean it like that when he called you weak, didnt mean to make you worry when he suddenly disappeared for a week straight. didnt mean to make matters worse when he had to leave abruptly in the middle of the argument because someone called his name.

“you could’ve at least given me some kind of sign! a note, a messenger, anything!” your voice becoming a little raised, your concern for him being overtaken by frustration.

“i didn't realize that that would be necessary,” he said lowly, patience quickly wearing thin.

“you were suddenly gone for an entire week! what else was i supposed to think other than the worst?”

“im not as weak as you!” he shot back, anger lacing his words.

“that’s not my even my point-�� you tried to start before he continued.

“i’ve been doing this long before you even existed, i never thought i would have to report my every action to anyone!”

“xiao,” you sighed, hands coming up to roughly comb through your hair, “im your-”

he suddenly looks away, eyes alert like something else has grabbed his attention. he hesitantly glances at you and you realize someone must be calling his name. scoffing, your hands drop to your side as you turn away from him, “go.”

“y/n-” he sighed

“you need to go, right? go. ill be…” you loosely gesture to the space around you, “here. so, go.”

upon finishing up the errand that took him away from you, he now observes as you collect qingxin flowers most likely for a small commission to keep yourself busy. looking at the ground of the mountain top he currently stands, he notices an abundance of qingxin flowers and begins to collect a handful. he wants to apologize, he knows he needs to. it wasn't fair that you were left in the dark and if the situation was reversed, he knows he would’ve gone to the edges of teyvat to find you.

in the midst of picking a flower, a familiar haze of green smoke flashes before xiao appears in front of you.

“hi,” you say coolly, continuing to pick flowers while barely giving him so much as a glance, “what are you doing here?”

“i…” he hesitates not knowing how to proceed, “i thought i heard you call my name.” the tips of his ears flush red at his obvious lie.

you hum in acknowledgement, “i didn’t.”

“oh. well- here.” he thrusts the little bouquet of flowers towards you, “i thought i could help.”

looking at him and the flowers in surprise, you carefully take the bundle before putting it in your basket, “oh. thank you, that actually helps a lot.”

turning around to begin your descent down the mountain, xiao follows in silence.

“y/n, i…” he falters when you look at him, waiting for him to finish his thought.

his mouth opens and closes, his words failing him.

you sigh and look away for a brief moment before looking back at him with a soft expression, “its okay, xiao. i get it.”

“i'll do better,” he declares, those three words symbolizing all his thoughts. im sorry. i didn’t mean to. i’ll try harder next time.

you smile at him for the first time in what he feels like is ages, his shoulders finally relaxing.

“thank you,” you whisper to him before taking his hand in yours, “y’know, maybe i did call for you.”

his head snaps to yours, “you did?”

you look back at him with a teasing glint in your eye, “must’ve been missing you so much that my heart called out for you to hear.”

cheeks dusted pink, he nods his head in agreement.

#goji's.thots˚｡⋆୨୧˚#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe #childe x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #childe₊˚⊹♡#diluc₊˚⊹♡#xiao°ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

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charliemwrites · 4 months

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Woof, grrr, woof

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴

the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)

the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).

the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!

the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).

YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.

It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.

It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.

Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.

He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.

But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.

Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.

You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.

“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”

There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.

“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.

Kiri's face splits into a grin.

“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”

You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.

“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”

It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.

“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.

“Do what?” Kiri challenges.

“Pretend I have a chance.”

Kiri makes a face.

“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”

You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.

Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.

“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”

Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.

“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.

You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.

He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.

In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.

“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."

The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.

There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.

Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.

But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.

It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.

Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.

“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.

He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.

Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.

You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.

You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.

“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.

Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.

“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.

“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”

You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.

“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.

Kiri's eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”

Kiri curses under her breath.

“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.

“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”

Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.

“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”

You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.

“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.

Kiri smiles politely.

“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.

You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.

Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.

“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.

“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.

“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”

“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.

You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”

“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”

“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”

“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.

Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.

“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.

“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.

“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”

“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.

“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.

Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.

“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”

“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.

There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.

His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.

Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.

“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.

You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.

“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.

You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.

“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.

“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.

You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.

The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.

“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.

“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”

“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.

Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.

When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.

Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.

“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.

You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.

“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”

Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.

Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.

“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.

Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.

“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.

Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.

“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”

Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.

Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.

She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.

He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.

“Tuk, wha—”

She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.

“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”

Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.

It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.

He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.

“_______!” he calls.

He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.

He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.

“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.

Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.

“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.

“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.

Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.

You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.

“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.

You scent him before you see him.

Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.

You shoot up again anyways.

“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.

“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”

You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.

His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.

You pause a moment, but then nod.

“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”

Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.

“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”

Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.

“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.

You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.

The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.

“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.

“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.

You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.

“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”

You pause.

“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.

“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.

“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”

Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.

Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.

He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”

“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”

Neteyam swallows.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.

His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Son?”

Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.

“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.

Jake's lips twitch.

“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”

Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.

“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”

Jake gives him an impish grin.

“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”

Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.

He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.

Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.

You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.

“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”

Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.

Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?

And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.

Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.

If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.

Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.

“Neteyam!”

Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.

“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.

“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”

Neteyam nods.

“Never better,” he says simply.

“After dinner we should–”

He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.

“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.

He catches up to you right outside of your tent.

“________!” he calls.

You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.

“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.

You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.

“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.

“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.

He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”

A few beats pass as you blink at him.

“Well?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”

You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.

“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.

You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.

You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.

Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.

A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.

It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.

“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.

“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”

Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.

“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.

“Everyone does,” you deflect.

Neteyam's jaw locks.

“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.

You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“________,” he presses.

You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.

“Why?” you ask shakily.

“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.

“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.

He's across the floor before you can blink.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”

Neteyam is stunned.

“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.

“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.

“You should go,” you say when he's silent.

You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.

“I–”

“Neteyam, spare me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he finally says.

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.

“You're–”

“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”

Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.

“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”

He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”

“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”

These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.

“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”

“I know, I know,” he assures you.

“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.

“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”

“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.

“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”

Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.

“Do you blame her?”

“Kiri!” he pleads.

Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.

“Actions,” she says simply.

“Huh?” he vocalizes.

“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”

Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.

“And how will I do that?” he presses.

Kiri shrugs.

“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”

As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.

His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.

“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.

You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.

She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.

“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”

You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.

“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”

The elder laughs again.

“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”

Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.

“What?”

“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”

“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.

“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”

Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.

“I–”

“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.

You bite.

“Why do you say that?”

“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”

The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.

You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.

“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.

You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.

He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.

You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.

After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”

“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”

“No?” you parrot shakily.

“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”

“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”

You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.

“Don’t,” you warn.

He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.

“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”

Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.

“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”

“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”

You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.

When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.

“Wha—”

“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”

Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.

“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”

“Neteyam–”

He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.

“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.

“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.

The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.

Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.

You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.

“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”

“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.

He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.

"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.

Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.

“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.

Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.

“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”

“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”

“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.

He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.

“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”

It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.

“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.

Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.

“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.

Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.

“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.

They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.

In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.

“Well?” Lo'ak prods.

You fidget, rattling with nerves.

“I suppose...”

Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you squeak.

“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.

The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.

The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.

Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.

Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.

You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.

When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.

“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.

“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.

You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.

“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.

That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.

You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.

The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.

“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.

The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.

Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.

“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”

You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.

When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.

“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.

“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.

“I'd argue differently,” he responds.

“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.

“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.

You sigh.

“I could—”

Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.

“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”

Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.

“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.

He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.

It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.

His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”

You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.

“Say it,” he begs.

Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.

“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”

Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.

“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.

A LIL' BONUS

“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.

Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.

“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."

“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”

an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)

#neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar way of water #neteyam fic #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar the way of water

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queenpiranhadon · 28 days

Text

𖥔 ⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ⎸⎸𖥔

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((again) again) , I wrote this for all of you :D Big thanks to both @zanarkandskylines and @a-had-matter for beta reading this- your support means the world to me😭 Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): f!reader,Bakugou and reader are dating, meeting his parents for the first time, mentions of anxiety, reader’s a procrastination queen, Bakugou’s whipped lmao, characters might be a little ooc, Mitsuki loves reader loll, Masaru and reader are the real besties here though, mentions of getting married, Katsuki calls reader baby, slight cursing.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Girlfriend!Reader

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

A week prior, your loving boyfriend of 3 months had invited you to have dinner with him and his parents, as they “were up his ass to meet you” (his words, not yours). You giggled originally, finding amusement in his lament about his overbearing parents, but you knew he loved them from the lack of malice in his words. And yet, after an entire week, only now, three hours before Bakugou would come to pick you up, did the full realization of the situation hit you like a truck.

You were going to meet his parents.

You flitted around your room, trying to find something to wear, your entire closet seemed repulsive to you now- nothing seemed right for the occasion.

You groaned, your attention piquing when you see a text come in. Flopping down onto your bed, you pick your phone up, reading the message.

Katsu🧡💥: Oi, the old hag wanted me to let you know that she’s making curry. That okay for you?

You feel butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach from his thoughtfulness, even though small gestures like this should seem normal to you now. It probably never would, the explosive male you had grown to love would never cease to get you flustered.

You: Okay! Sounds great! I bet you get your cooking skills from her ;)

Katsu🧡💥: Shut up dummy

Katsu🧡💥: Have you picked something out to wear yet?

You deadpan, knowing he would scold you for procrastinating, but you sigh, there was no point in lying to him. Even over text, he would know if you were telling the truth or not.

You: So about that...

Katsu🧡💥: Baby, they’re not going to think less of you based on your outfit. Plus, you could wear a damn cardboard box and you’d still look hot. They’ll love you, so quit your panicking.

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, but Bakugou’s rough but caring words didn’t help your predicament.

You: Thank you, Katsuki- but I seriously can’t find anything 😭 What do I do??

You can practically see his eyes rolling through the three dots that dance across the screen.

Katsu🧡💥: You’re lucky I know you so well- bought you a new sweater this morning. I’ll come over early and drop it off for you.

You: Katsuki thank you so much!!! You didn’t have to though...

Katsu🧡💥: Shut up dumbass, I’ll be there in 30 mins, go do what you gotta do in the meantime.

You smile at that, warmth pooling in your heart as you set your phone down on the side table, standing up from your bed and grabbing a towel before heading to your bathroom to take a shower.

***

Katsuki’s already there, waiting for you by your kitchen island, scrolling through his phone, before looking up at you with your hair wrapped in a towel to prevent it from dripping everywhere, along with another to clothe your body.

You smile happily, giggling as his nose scrunches when you press your dewy skin against him in a hug.

“Oi, get off of me,” he grumbles “Yer still all wet.”

You giggle, knowing he doesn’t mean it when he encircles you in his arms, inhaling the scent of your body wash. He places a small kiss atop the crown of your head before, reaching behind him to grab the bag on his counter, handing it to you.

“Here baby, got yer sweater for ya.” he says, watching as your eyes light up after rummaging through the contents.

You squeal happily, planting a kiss on his cheek before running back into your bedroom, knowing exactly what to pair with the article of clothing.

“Thanks Katsuki!! Give me like 30 minutes!” you chirp, before disappearing into your bedroom.

He chuckled under his breath, and ran his fingers over the thin gold chain you bought for him for your “one-week-aversary" (your words, not his). Originally, he had scoffed at you, wondering why you would spend your money on him for something so trivial, but you just brushed it off, grinning saying “It’s not trivial Katsuki! This is my way of showing my love!” You were just so cute, he loved you so much it hurts, and yet you both had only been dating for a few months.

You were going to be the death of him, that’s for sure.

***

After you got ready, you both got into the car, sitting in comfortable silence the entire way, other than the soft music that played from the aux cord.

Katsuki could tell you were nervous, the way your fingers fiddled with the ribbon surrounding the chocolate you bought for his parents was a dead giveaway.

And yet, he knew that nothing he would say would alleviate your stress, so he remained silent, knowing your worries would be gone as soon as the old hag got her claws on you.

The car reaches to a stop in the driveway, and Katsuki almost wants to take out his phone and snap a picture as your eyes grow wide and your lips part by the sheer size of his house.

“Woah...” you breathe, in awe “ I knew your parents were successful, but you never told me they were rich.”

Katsuki flushes, exiting the car and opening the door for you. “S’nothin.” he says, averting his gaze from yours, as if he wasn’t imagining living in a nice house with you in the future.

You interlock your fingers with his, relishing in the comfort of his calloused fingertips brushing over your knuckles, his hand squeezing yours as a final reassurance before bringing his hand up to aggressively knock on the door.

“OI HAG OPEN UP!” he yells, only for the door to swing open, revealing a beautiful woman with a striking resemblance to the man next to you.

“Katsuki Bakugou yell like that one more time and I will-” the woman, who you assume to be Katsuki’s mother, notices you then, all anger directed towards her son melting away once she sets her eyes on you.

Her scarlet eyes sparkled as they looked over you once over in approval, rushing towards you with a big grin on her face and enveloping you in a crushing hug. You let out a squeak in surprise, but giggled, reciprocating it immediately. Your worries were gone in an instant, just as Katsuki had predicted.

“Ah, where are my manners! Call me Mitsuki, I’m the brat’s mother.” she says warmly, much to Katsuki’s disdain as he objects to the nickname; Mitsuki ignores him as if he wasn’t there though.

You laugh at your pouty boyfriend’s reaction and give her your name, smiling back at her like she was an old friend.

“Masaru! She’s here~!” Mitsuki practically sings, clutching onto your arm, leading you into the kitchen with Katsuki trailing behind like a lost puppy.

She turns to you again. “So glad you’re here dear, the brat needs someone to keep his head out of his ass.” she says, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

You snort at that, completely at ease as Mitsuki treats you like the daughter she never had.

You see a timid man in the kitchen, who is most likely Masaru, Katsuki’s dad.

You both greet each other, the brunette man much calmer than his wife, and he smiles at you and squeezes your shoulder as an awkward show of affection. While you two converse, however, Katsuki is already at war with his mother, both Masaru and yourself just stand by the island silent; you both know the drill.

“SHUT UP YOU OLD HAG- STOP SMOTHERING MY GIRLFRIEND!” Katsuki yells.

“DON’T TALK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT KATSUKI, YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT GIRL IS AN ANGEL FOR STICKING WITH THAT BRATTY ASS OF YOURS.” Mitsuki retorts, irate.

You and Masaru look at each other, the latter mouthing to you if you wanted to help set the table, to which you nodded vehemently, unsure of what to do as the angry blonde duo continue to yell at each other.

Setting the table, you and Masaru trade stories of how you’ve both had to wrangle your respective partners to make sure they didn’t murder anyone, the both of you breaking into laughter as he recounts a story of how he once had to physically pick up his wife by the waist and haul her out of an ice cream store because they messed up his order.

You thought it was completely adorable, seeing how much Katsuki took after Mitsuki, telling Masaru of a similar story of when you and Katsuki went to a carnival, and you got scammed during one of the games.

Eventually the two blondes calmed down, joining you and Masaru in the dining room, where the food was all plated and ready to be eaten.

Midway through the conversation, you feel Katsuki’s hand slide over to squeeze yours under the table, a small gesture that you knew meant I told you so.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, enjoying the company of the Bakugous. The night seemed to drag on for ages (his words, not yours), and you found yourself blending in seamlessly in with Katsuki’s parents. And though he would never admit it, it warmed his heart to see someone he loved so much get along so well with his family. Things were going smoothly, until something Mitsuki says catches you off guard.

“So, when are you going to put a ring on her finger, huh brat?”

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shinjisdone · 8 months

Text

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Doubt Them

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - but you doubt it's true. Perhaps you don't believe it yourself or are trying to push the obvious infatution under the rug...whatever your reason may be, your dear classmates do not believe you.

Been feeling sick so here's a spin-off of the spin-off of your classmates replies when you say:

"I don't think anyone would like me like that..."

Raising his brow, he scoffed. "Ya don't get it. Listen, the only reason someone would go out of this daaaarn big way is either 'cuz they're a total idiot dork or have a massive big crush on you. And lucky you! For you both option are the case!" Sweat rolled down his jaw as he winked. -Ace

"Uhm," His mouth became dry and his eyes avoided yours. "I-I don't think - I mean, w-why wouldn't they? Like, the roses and chocalates...the notes and...mirror, I guess...that's all romantic. Y-You're a great person and...I'm sure that admirer thinks so, too." He wishes to say more but his tongue was tied. -Deuce

"Whuat? Of course they do! Have you seen the talks and Hearts on MagiCam? Some totally envy you!" His hand lowers to his pocket but decided against fishing out his phone. Instead, he threw his arm around your shoulder. "C'mon, juniour! Have a bit more confidence in yourself! Y'know, if it wasn't for your admirer, I would have long sent you these lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe in a different way though, haha!" -Cater

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's clear as that day that someone fancies you and there's nothing wrong with that. You get your senior's allowance to indulge in the attention!" Laughing, he hoped he could ease the tension through his lies. -Trey

He cleared his throat. Something like this wasn't his forte. "I...am not an expert in...love and courting - Well, what I mean is that anyone can see that you are very much admired by someone. You are...a very great person so of course you'd be liked. When someone goes out of their way to break several rules like that, their affection must be greater than the Queen's for her little King." -Riddle

Clicking his tongue, he rolled over to his side. "Why are you making a fuss about that? You're gonna break your little head over this, herbivore. Why don't you stop this belittling and confront that little admirer yourself and find out? If you have the guts to go into the lion's den, then you can go and ask a coward that, too." -Leona

"Huh," For a moment, he avoided your gaze and the corner of his lips twitched. "Well, I dunno. Why shouldn't anyone? If no one liked yer guts, then they would have looooong ripped you off or something - good thing I was there all the time but nothin' happened even when I wasn't there - what I mean is, no, you are likable, dummy. Shihishi..." He cackled nervously. -Ruggie

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Quickly clearing his throat, he tried to hide his flushed face, "As in...I don't know if I would agree with you. Someone wouldn't just do this for fun...I don't know anyone, in and outside of NRC, who would do this for fun, so..." He scratched his neck and hoped you'd catch his intentions. -Jack

"Wha," Sheepish laughter rang, "Oh, why...of course you'd be! Why wouldn't you be...why wouldn't they..." His hands reached for the papers on his desk as he failed to sort them, "If there are any doubts...Monstro Longue can also provide solutions for that. But only for doubts...after all, you are l-likable..." -Azul

"Nonsense. I think you are quite charming. Or, could it be that you are playing the humble one? Trying to fool the rest while you are indulging in all the love your admirer provides?" A smarmy giggle. "I jest. But even so, that would make you even cuter." -Jade

Cackling rung. "Huuuh? Actually, yeah, you're right!" He giggled and squeezed in closer into your personal space. "You are such a lost cause, Shrimpy...ya should stick with peeps like me and Jade! Rather just with me, yeah? That admirer-schmirer has been gettin' on my nerves recently and I barely got any time to squeeze you...give up on this landpeople mambo-jambo and stick with me~. -Floyd

At first he blinked in confusion yet his shining grin came a second after. "No way. You're so great! And so interesting and fun and cute!" He almost seemed like his usual self until he noticed who you two were talking about. At that, his grin vanished. "Oh...well, if I can see that, then the admirer totally too! Maybe even more than me since they shower you in so many gifts..." -Kalim

"Well, obviously not since you got a good old secret admirer like from a rom-com." His smile crooked, he hoped you'd at least chuckle but he quickly corrected himself. Best if he doesn't continue to be this nonchalant. "I'm just kidding...though not about you likable. Give yourself more credit...you deserve it." -Jamil

"Huh? What's with that...self-pityin' party - I mean, as in, that ain't true. Yer a...fine and dandy person, I mean - why wouldn'tcha be??? That kinda talk is only gonna bring you down and yer better than that. Far, far, better. Hell, you got a flyin' mirror-" -Epel

Laughter echoed and you weren't sure if it was mocking at first. "Cher Trickster, could it be that these grande professions of love are not enough?! How can you still not see that you are the apple of someone's eye? Not even I could top that! Tell me, my dear, shall I be your second admirer to prove to you how lovely you are?" -Rook

He raised a brow. "Bring me my phone for a second. Should we go over the amount of attention I get from millions of people and compare them to the over-the-top admiration of your one and only admirer? They went out of the way to insult me to compliment you. You are someone's diamond, potato." -Vil

For a moment you wondered if he even heard you. Staying still as a candle, he tried his best to avoid your gaze while his face was flushed red. "...W-W-W-W-Wha-What do you ask m-me that...??? I-I mean, if there is someone unlikable here it would be m-me...y-y'know...?" He hoped you get what he means. -Idia

"According to data I collected requested by big bro - I mean, happened to collect, there is a 0000000.01% chance that you are unbelievable, unequally unlikable." -Ortho

"You think so?" He scratched his chin, "That kind of mindset is not going to get you far. In fact, I believe you do not understand how much comfort you bring by your mere presence. If you doubt it, I can always remind you of it." -Malleus

Laughing, he slapped his knee. "Seriously? You get the exact cookie-cutter version of a highschool secret admirer sweetheart! I read those in old-school manga! And you still doubt that?" He sighs, "Trust me, be a bit more confident. Amazing things can happen if you let them." -Lilia

"Hm? But...you are being admired. By afar, by someone who truly seems to treasure you. You are like a treasure if you see it that way...ah, nevermind me. Please, believe in yourself more. I do." -Silver

"Ugh, really now?! IF I can see it, then you should see it too! It's like you are covering your own eyes! You! Are! An! Object! Of! Affectioooooonnnn!!!" -Sebek

holy shit im never doing something like this in one post again hhuuuuuaaaaaaahh

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skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

03. sharing a bed series ; skz ; changbin

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 3/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: changbin/reader content info: explicitly plus size reader. sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. lingerie. teasing. reading and watching porn. a bit of spanking. not so much choking but throat-holding. penetrative sex.

;)

Oh god, you think, staring at your suitcase full of lingerie, what the fuck do I do?

You like beautiful things and you love lingerie. Your suitcase is brimming with pretty nighties and delicate babydolls, a luxury indulged for your own sake but completely inappropriate given the circumstances.

You thought you would have your own hotel room this holiday, but after a few friends dropped out of the trip, there was some last minute shuffling, and now—

“Yah! Where’s my toothbrush?”

Changbin is your hotel roommate for the weekend. Just you, him, and a single king-sized bed.

Oh, and your suitcase full of lingerie.

You slam the luggage shut, spinning around to look at him as he emerges from the bathroom in a frantic state of his own.

It takes a second to register his question, your eyes wide as you look him over from head to toe. His dark hair is damp from a shower and he is wearing nothing but a bath towel. He holds it shut at his hip, a sturdy thigh flashing when the towel parts. His body is one mouth-watering slab of big, broad bulk, and you find yourself clutching your own ample chest as if that will stop your heart from stampeding out.

“Ah, there,” Changbin says, strutting past you. Absent-mindedly, he says, “I’m almost done, then you can shower.”

The few minutes it will take him to brush his teeth will not be enough for you. Your efforts to find suitable sleepwear are completely futile. In the end, you settle on the simplest nightie with the fullest body, even if it is a bit transparent.

You take your turn in the bathroom after him. When it comes time to change, you slip into the nightie and stare agape at your own reflection.

Oh god, you think. This is a disaster.

This is your most conversative piece and it is still wildly sexy. You love your bigger body and you love dressing to accentuate its features, and this piece is no exception. Full thighs and fuller breasts and full curves spill up and over the tighter places. The little panties are swallowed up by your plushy ass and no matter how much you adjust the neck of the nightie, it continues to fall in the most suggestive way possible.

You look hot. If anyone else was waiting for you in that hotel bed, you would be fine. But it’s Changbin. Your close friend Changbin. Your close, hot, loud, insane, sexy, confident, drool-worthy, muscle pig friend Changbin.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. There is nothing more you can do.

You pop open the bathroom door and stick your head around the corner. Changbin is lounging in bed, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, an arm thrown over his head as he watches something on his phone. His hair has dried fluffy and he is smiling at whatever he’s watching.

“Changbin,” you say. “Close your eyes.”

He does the opposite, like the stupid hot dummy he is, looking up at you. You get a swoop in your gut just from his curious glance, his messy hair, the comfort he radiates laying in your shared bed. It really is unfair how he is a hundred different styles of sexy at once. This is the same guy who was working out shirtless on the beach lawn just an hour ago, the same guy who showed up to dinner in designer glasses and a form-fitting jumpsuit, the same guy who was cuddling you in a hammock wearing a big hoodie and board shorts. Surely he could try and have the decency to look bad at least once.

“I said close!” you repeat.

“Ah! What!” He does it, even if he is confused, lowering his arm and covering his eyes. “There! Stop yelling at me!”

“You’re yelling, not me!”

“I’m not yelling!”

You are both yelling. But his eyes are closed so you make a mad dash for your luggage, tossing your day clothes haphazardly with a little wince for the mistreatment of your pretty things. But you need to be fast, shoving your clothes in your suitcase so you can dive under the covers before Changbin inevitably gets bored and—

“What are you wearing?” Changbin says.

“Changbiiiin!” You turn around with a furious scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I told you to close your eyes!”

“What, forever? I thought we were done!”

“Well, we’re not! Close them!”

“But I already—”

“Close!”

He grumbles a curse to himself but closes his eyes, laying back with his arms stubbornly crossed. You turn away to zip your luggage, shaking your head. You also fight down a giggle, one bubbling up from the tiniest bit of delight caused by Changbin’s dropped jaw and wide eyes as he thoroughly drank in the sight of you.

You turn around to find him peeking, one eye open. He is one second too late closing it again.

“I saw that,” you say.

“Saw what?” he says. “I missed it. My eyes are closed.”

“Uh-huh.” You walk up to the bed and fold back the covers, eyes on him the whole time. You put your hands on your hips when he cracks open one eye again. “Pervert,” you say, with a snort of amusement.

“Me?” He opens both eyes and gestures wildly. “Look what you’re wearing! How am I the pervert?”

“You’re in boy lingerie so be quiet.”

“What!”

“The grey sweatpants with the dick print.” You point to his lap. “Boy lingerie.”

“Ahhh! Ah! Hey! Have some principles. That’s reverse sexism. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He wags a scolding finger you at you. Then, for good measure, he grabs a pillow and puts it in his lap. “Stop objectifying me.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, climbing onto the bed. You put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I thought I was sleeping alone,” you say. “I’m sorry. If you have a big shirt I can sleep in, I don’t mind changing.”

“You wearing that,” Changbin says, giving you a very thoughtful once-over that makes your whole body tingle, “or you wearing my shirt.” He lifts the pillow and looks under it. “What do you think?” he says, as if consulting his dick.

“You’re so stupid!” You hate how much you are laughing at this goofball. You roll your eyes even while giggling. “I’m going to sleep. Have a fun conversation with your little friend.”

“Ah! He’s not little,” Changbin says, as if very offended. “He’s average height and girthy, like me.”

“Nice try but you’re not average height and ew, oh my god, don’t say girthy.”

“Girthy.”

“I can’t hear you,” you say, sliding under the covers. You pull them up to your chin and lay on your side with your back to him. “I’m already sleeping,” you say.

“How am I supposed to sleep now!” he says.

“That’s not my problem!”

He grumbles some more while you snicker. Eventually he turns off the light and gets under the covers too. You both go on your phones, the little white lights illuminating the bed. You glance over your shoulder to see him laying with his back to you, watching videos on mute. You turn back to your phone and open your reading app, deciding you can squeeze in a chapter or two of your current romance.

You are reading about the latest duke’s pulsating member and his lady’s quivering thighs when Changbin turns over. You are too slow hiding your phone.

“Are you reading porn?” he asks, reaching out and snatching your phone.

“It’s not porn!” You sit up to grab it back but he holds it away. “It’s literature!”

“It’s porn,” he says, bursting into peels of giggles that should be ridiculous coming out of that buff body, but they only make you laugh too.

“Changbiiiin,” you whine through your own laughter, rolling half on top of him to try and grab your phone. “Give it baaaack. It’s not porn.”

“He throbbed as pleasure conquered his senses and ERUPTED LIKE A FORCE OF VOLCANIC NATURE—!”

“Stooooop!”

“That sounds painful,” Changbin muses.

You finally snatch your phone back and promptly toss it off the bed. It lands with a little thump.

Changbin is laying on his back and giggling like a child, poorly stifled teeheehees that do not relent even when you lean over him with your most intimidating face.

“That’s not fair,” you say. “You have to show me yours now.”

That gets him to look at you with surprise, tilting his head. You do not miss when his eyes go to your chest, especially because it lingers there for a very long moment. He touches his bottom lip, flicking his tongue over his thumb absently before finally meeting your gaze.

“What?” he says. “Did you say something?”

“Show me your porn,” you say.

“My—what! Get down.” He bats you away and crosses his arms. “I will remind you I am a man of principle. I have convictions. Unlike you, I don’t keep demeaning pornographic content on hand at all times. I have too much respect for the human form and the sanctity of intimacy and lovemaking.”

You blink at him.

“Fine,” he says, and picks up his phone. “Don’t blame me for any volcanic eruptions.”

Once he has his bookmarks open, you take his phone and roll over, ignoring his protests. You hold the phone out and click a link at random, even with him pressed right up against your back as he tries to steal it back. You wriggle in his lap, making him squeak, either because your ass is pushing at his junk, or because of the video that opens.

“Oh my,” you say.

It’s a point-of-view video, a man’s hand sliding down a very soft, curvy body. Your own body perks with interest when his thumb glides down her wet pussy, teasing her lips apart before sliding inside. Changbin makes a strangled noise that you hardly register, staring as the man in the video slowly fingerfucks the woman, a woman not unlike you in proportion and general appearance.

“I can explain—ah, hey! Why are you skipping?” Changbin’s somewhat embarrassed tone shifts midsentence to indignation as you tap to fast forward.

“I wanna get to the good part!”

“The good—? Yah! You’re so impatient!”

You ignore him, fast forwarding until you see a dick then letting it play.

Changbin has given up on trying to get his phone back. He makes a sound of miserable defeat and thunks his forehead against the back of your head. You bite your bottom lip, flushed from head to toe, your thighs especially squirmy as need gathers between them. You watch the woman in the video turn over until she is on all fours. The man pushes inside her and you watch the way her body moves when he thrusts deeply. His hand comes down in a sharp slap, making you twitch with wanting.

“I like that,” you say, aware of Changbin growing hard against your backside. You feel him twitch at your comment. When you skip ahead in the video again, he doesn’t speak. You stop when the man wraps his hand around the woman’s throat and you smile. “Like that too.”

He is rock hard against your ass. Either he thinks staying still means you can’t feel it or he wants you to feel it. Testing, you grind slowly against him.

He grabs your hip through the blankets.

“Ah, you.” He squeezes your hip. “No teasing.”

“No?” you ask, wriggling just a little more. “None at all?”

There is a brief pause, then he slides his hand under the covers to hold your waist directly. It is a slow, questioning motion, leaving you time to refuse. When you don’t, he slides his hand down to stroke your thigh.

You put his phone aside, the screen going dark, its contents forgotten as you turn your head. He slips one arm under you, his hand cupping a breast at the same time his other hand goes between your legs. When he kisses you, you open your mouth to immediately deepen it. He does, licking at you and sucking your bottom lip, grinding in a slow circle against you. It makes you ache, squirming in his strong embrace, his fingers only just hovering where you need him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says when you start bucking and whining into his kiss. He kisses you too deeply for you to protest his teasing, but then he finally hooks his fingers in your panties to draw them to the side.

You get dizzy, either from kissing more than breathing or just his overwhelming presence. When he touches you and feels how wet you already are, he makes a low sound and curses.

“Ch—Changbin,” you say, breathy and a little senseless already. “Please.”

He moves swiftly, manhandling you with ease and care. You turn over and he pushes the blankets away to get up behind you. You whimper into the sheets when he tugs you into a better position, then he is drawing your panties to the side again and stroking your whole pussy from clit to entrance and back again. His fingers are soaked by the time he puts them inside you, strong arm finding a steady rhythm quickly. Combined with a couple sharp smacks to your ass, you come apart with a cry, whole body shaking as you grind back on his hand.

You sink into the bedsheets, eyes closed, panting. You feel his hand wet hand cup your thigh, then his fingers spreading your pussy open. You clench around nothing and hear him curse.

You look over your shoulder at him. Even though you were the one who came, he looks completely wrecked, his fluffy black hair a dishevelled mess and his jaw clenched, shoulders tense. You look a little lower, staring at the thick bulge in his sweats.

It’s him who speaks first, his voice rough when he says, “You look… do you have any idea…”

“You’re not wearing underwear, are you,” is what you end up saying, giggling. “Boy lingerie. Told you.”

He snorts, grinning, looking more cocky than chagrined. That expression morphs to curiosity and hope when you reach for a make-up bag sitting on the head-table.

“Yes,” he says, when you pull a string of condoms out of it. For some reason, it’s the funniest response he could have given, and you giggle a little more. Those giggles come to a stop when he pulls your panties down, then rolls down the band of his sweatpants down too.

Your mouth falls open. “Wow,” you say. “You are—”

“Girthy?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

He mimes zipping his lips shut before taking the condom.

You accidentally untuck the bedspread when he finally gets inside you. One corner comes undone, and the second one follows when he starts fucking you in earnest. It’s a good, full stretch, and you moan into the messy bedspread as he grabs your hips to pull you into every thrust. You swear you see stars when he slides one hand up and around your neck, lifting your head and holding you by the throat as he fucks into you. He slows down a bit to rub at your clit, making you come and spasm around him, before he drives himself quickly to completion.

You end up sprawled facedown on the undone bed, your nightie in a state of disarray and your panties god knows where. He flops down beside you, breathing hard, still pretty much dressed. Once he’s caught his breath, he looks at you, smiling when he reaches out to brush some hair out of your face.

You smile back, rolling into his open arms. You rest your head on his chest and exhale.

Then, knowing it’ll get a reaction because he’s Changbin, you say, “That wasn’t bad.”

“Not bad!” he says, predictably loud. “What do you mean not bad? That was amazing. Come here.” He’s laughing now, pulling you close when you laugh and try to roll away. “Get back here. I’ll show you not bad.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seo changbin smut #changbin x reader #skz x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin x reader

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