#and feels like he's being fucked with when people correct him constantly

[hungerofhadarr]

Okay my turn for a toshiro and laios post . I have not watched the anime but I have read the whole manga and . Um . I think some of you just dislike toshiro for straight up made up reasons . Especially when you give the story time to … you know . Progress and Tell a Story ? Both of these characters are mourning the loss of falin and . You know . The whole Dark Magic thing ? This whole meeting is already full of grief and nerves and a situation that could have been resolved better … if not in the current circumstances . toshiro is not evil for snapping at laios and explaining his grievances just like laios is allowed to feel hurt over being told someone he had thought was a close friend actually did not like him but only liked his sister. This is not a complex thing

While I will Not go further into the story bc of the spoilers , it is extremely fucking Insane how everyone is seemingly ready to write off toshiro for .. a reaction made in grief and anger . Also ignoring his upbringing and the society he is used to + the fact that laios may have not meant any harm , but to constantly bombard the man with questions about “ back home “ etc etc .. yeah he is going to snap LMAO ? Trying so hard to not say it but some of this hate feels extremely … like the extreme hate for an explicitly Japanese character in media bc they do not act the correct way to you …. Look Inwards ?

Also oh my god can characters have conflicts they both get to grow from . Please . This fight was not to choose a side and stick with it . This was to show you the way these people interact and currently understand how things Are . And how they are at an extreme odds with each other . Both of them have valid reactions and they both have stepped over the line ! That is the POINT !!! PLEASE GIVE TOSHIRO ROOM TO GROWN AND DON’ T ACT LIKE LAIOS DOESN’ T NEED TO GROW TOO

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #laios touden #toshiro nakamoto #toshiro dungeon meshi #laios dungeon meshi #please guys for the love of GOD

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

tbh i think one of the biggest things they could have done to make five and nine hate each other without bullying or bigotry involved would have been to lean into the thing where some adhdtistics naturally vibe, whereas others have an incompatible combination of nd traits that make them viscerally unable stand each other, and go from there

#lorien legacies #LL number five #LL number nine #like nine is very obviously coded adhd but he is also autistic as hell #and. gestures at five #this is also why canon!nine's brand of lying about things and getting his behavior excused as being 'bad at signals' #when that's Not What's Actually Happening irritates me #they could have even included elements of some of the others being a little too defensive of his behavior at five's expense #without it just being 'lol bully the fat autistic kid' #if they're used to accounting for the fact that nine is neurodivergent and having a Hard Time of It #in ways that make it easy to assume he's just a dickhead when he really genuinely does not realize or understand that's how he comes across #and/or is exhausted and defensive that he has to try constantly and /so hard/ NOT to come across that way #and feels like he's being fucked with when people correct him constantly #because 'that doesn't sound right but i don't know enough about social skills to dispute it' #and is also increasingly bitter at feeling like 'why the fuck should /i/ have to be the one to change everything about how i act' #'why can't people at least try to meet me in the middle for once. fuck this' #all compounded by brain damage from extended solitary confinement and physical TBIs #and it becomes more understandable for the others to kneejerk toward accommodating his access needs before five's when they conflict #while also y'know. being significantly less assholess toward five in general; and in fact treating him a lot less shittily BECAUSE they #have experience with not judging people for initially being awkward and kind of insensitive or seemingly abrasive #or just behaving in ways that seem Weird. it's still a blind spot that they favor nine here but they're not being ableist pieces of shit #nor are they trying to shut him up about abuse and force him to Get Used to It #anyway lots of thoughts about this need to write up posts etc #LL tag #ableism cw #dyn: lost boys

[satoruhour]

GO!

a/n: racer jjk men …….. mmgfnghgn..gg.f.. if u can tell i’ve never watched f&f, you would be correct. i only watched tokyo drift for research 😭 also im talking out of my ass by using random car terminology !!!! i don’t even know whether anything i said was possible so just close one eye please :3

warnings: essentially car sex & pet names & unprotected sex for everything, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, public sex, geto listens in on a call, riding, implied p → v penetration, implied creampie / breeding, implied threesome w/ stsg (gojo), clit stimulation, handjob, semi-public sex, p → v penetration, doggy, geto asks and then takes a pic of you, creampie / breeding (geto), praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, pleasure dom nanami, squirting, clit stimulation (nanami), age gap (reader’s early 20s, toji is forty), oral (m receiving) while driving, facefucking, semi-public sex, clit stimulation, daddy kink, implied p → v penetration (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

“my, my,” gojo smirks as he looks over to you in his 1999 Nissan Skyline R34 when your hand makes contact with his thigh, “couldn’t wait till we reached there?” on the way to the races that gojo loved to bring you to, it was a silent rule that gojo was one of the people that ruled the underground racing scene in tokyo — that means leaving his opponent sighing at the steering wheel and being the object of your kisses at the end of it.

gojo was talented, but he knew he wouldn’t sit well in the driver’s seat if he didn’t share the victory with you. the racer speeds at any opportunity, but today he takes the time to drive his baby just so he could have more time to fuck her.

sometimes gojo rubs off on you in terms of disposition, because you’ve become fairly good with composing yourself into times of tribulation with your constantly-horny boyfriend. your calmness could be commended, but your breaths still give off your aroused state, his fingers continuing to draw a faint line up your legs which are rubbing and squeezing against each other. even with the aircon on full blast, you still feel undeniably hot.

“so wet…” gojo hums as his hand feels the wet patch that’s pooling in your panties before slipping it to the side, driving unaffected while he keeps his eyes on the road. he’s fucked you so many times already, memorised the feel of your body that it doesn’t take him much to insert his fingers and find that sweet spot. you squeal, hands flying to grab at his forearm. your pussy clenches around his fingers, and it makes him hum, pushing him to adjust his pelvis in his seat. no doubt your cute sounds are affecting him.

“s-satoru! the race?” you panic and hope to distract his attention elsewhere, but gojo’s a master at multitasking.

“what’re you talking about? we’re on the way, princess.” he’s right, taking you through the familiar streets of shinjuku before switching to a lane that takes the car into an underground tunnel. it’s a route you can remember, but you hardly give a shit currently where you can feel your juices pool below you.

“sato—” you whine, your squeezing thighs doing nothing to deter him, “your s-seat’s getting soaked.”

“s’fine, i’ll clean it up later,” gojo grins, sparing you a quick glance where he likes you the most: lips parted with moans escaping, knuckles white from clutching onto the seat and your pussy leaking your juices all over his palm. “c’mon, you’re a good girl, aren’t you? don’t you want to cum?” gojo knows all of your habits, so he taunts you, teases you by slowing down his fingers just a little and plays with your clit. a ringtone doesn’t distract him, easily accepting the call from his phone on the dashboard.

there’s a soft on the way? from the caller, seemingly whispering into the phone like he was hiding from something and you’re struggling to keep from moaning too loud by keeping a hand to your mouth. you’re hyperfocused on your boyfriend’s fingers that you don’t exactly hear what they’re talking about, but you do faintly make it out to be geto on the other end. you’re so close that you might’ve left bruises on gojo’s forearm.

“satoru, you might wanna camp out in a nearby parking lot before comin’ over. officers are patrolling around the starting line.” it wasn’t weird for races to be pushed back, by engines malfunctioning, by police officers doing their nightly patrol but while the black-haired racer is just a little agitated at the delay, you’re surprised to see your boyfriend sporting a shit-eating smile.

“good, that just means i have more time,” gojo pauses to groan when you start to clench around his fingers. he knows you’re close and you want to fucking kill him when he easily reaches the spot that has you seeing stars, all the while having his best friend on the line, “to fuck my lovely girlfriend.”

“oh f-fuck… satoru! ’m cumming mmf…!” you don’t bother holding back on your mewls and whimpers, then, not exactly caring if geto hears cause he’s shared you with him before. gojo fingers you through your orgasm, your pupils blown wide and jaw dropping as you seek refuge in the hot pink seats gojo got for you while you continue to cry out his name.

within minutes, he’s pulling into an abandoned parking lot and swerving the car into a secluded spot before making use of the modification he made to his Skyline, reclining his driver’s seat (courtesy of your suggestion and he was driving off to the mechanic the next day) and beckoning you over with a smile.

you could only return his sly smile as he removes his pants, cock already hard and weeping from its tip from all the teasing he’s done to you, hard from knowing he’s the only one to get you moaning like a bitch in heat. and when you sink down easily, it’s like heaven on earth, the adrenaline giving the both of you a high.

it’s no surprise when gojo easily wins the race later, receiving you with open arms and a sloppy kiss, all while his cum’s leaking from your panties and your cunt still feels a little empty — so when you both receive a message from geto asking for a late-night drive with just the three of you, you’re quick to leave the scene to get stuffed full again.

✶ GETO

“suguru!” you smile as you enter the garage that’s housed suguru’s cars since he was a high school student, the familiar gold and black accents spread throughout the large space. he was lucky to have a father who’s a manufacturer, and despite the many engines and parts he’s gone through, it was a wonder his dad hasn’t exactly uncovered his rising fame in the tokyo racing scene, even if he comes home with some cuts and a roughed up car to match.

“hey princess,” he calls out, still focused on the minute parts of the 13B-REW engine and switching out his outdated intercooler for the Blitz, something that he had to persuade his father with with good grades and exemplary behaviour in his after school activities. “just making some changes to the Mazda. how’s my baby doin’— oh wow.”

your immediate reaction is to grin at him, heat blooming throughout your face as you descend the steps to where his vehicles were, sporting a cute little miniskirt and knee high boots. it’s not that you haven’t dressed like this before, but every time you do, it manages to make his breath hitch. that’s not the main attractive point today, though, eyes dropping to the fat of your thigh where a new tattoo had found its home — a black widow weaving chinese knots and it looks so damn good on you that your boyfriend wastes no time in removing the hood strut and slamming the hood close.

you don’t usually sit on his 1997 Veilside Mazda RX-7 much, but geto is determined to change that when you’re propped up like a doll on the sleek black design of the car, wandering hands slipping under your skirt as you’re humming into the deepening kiss. the other groans against your lips when he finds your clit, rubbing languid circles into it and you spread your legs further to accommodate his fingers, exposing your neck for his lips to suck on while his free hand gets busy with your perky tits.

“you’re so… fuckin’ wet,” geto mumbles into your neck, stifling your moans with yet another kiss. the way he’s rubbing at your bundle of nerves is so distinct, you couldn’t even replicate it if you tried, usually left dissatisfied after cumming on your own fingers. “my pretty angel.”

“yeah? you like me on your Mazda?” you say with a lilt to your voice, and although the pet names bring another wave of shyness and fire to your cheeks, your hands speak otherwise as they trail down his torso to the trousers he’s got on. it’s you against him to see who makes the other break first — geto moans when you fish out his dick, already semi-hard from all the teasing and your hand’s warm like how your pussy usually feels, stroking him in a pace that matches the hand on your clit.

“fucking love you on it,” geto laughs breathlessly, hot breath fanning against your lips and hips bucking into your palm, “love your hands on my cock, too.”

“ditto, baby,” you reply in a breathy whimper, but geto mutters something else along the lines of too bad i need my cock in you now before a surprised yelp leaves you when you’re flipped over suddenly. with hands flat on the hood and a knee propped up, he’s careful not to bring any discomfort to your new tattoo. bit by bit, he’s sheathing himself into your dripping cunt, pleas and obscenities flooding the spacious garage as you beg him to move.

your boyfriend’s a racer, ’course he knows how to do that, but he takes pride in teasing you, letting you feel every last bit of his dick as he bottoms out. “suguru… fuck me, please.”

“planning on it — shit, you’re so tight — let me enjoy your cute lil pussy for a bit, princess.” geto has both hands move down the expanse of your back, appreciating your attractive arch, and then then down to your ass and folds where he’s filling you with his fat cock. and when he starts to move, your mewls become incomprehensible and your fingers grasp at anything, but you’re afraid of scratching the smooth finishing of his Mazda, settling for holding onto his forearms.

“suguruuu… oh my g-god!” you love the way your obscene noises fill the space, juices flowing freely down your thighs as the other finds a steady pace. “right there— f-fuck…”

geto is no different, hypnotised with how his length disappears into your heat that he doesn’t notice your twitching body, but he still knows you’re close by how your clamp around him like a vice, pussy tightening up to make sure he gives you all his cum. by this time, you’re delirious from the squelching noises of your cunt and the slap of his hips into yours that your orgasm comes unexpectedly.

“cumming, cumming, suguru—!” your thighs shake and shiver through the euphoric feeling, still riding the wave of the orgasm before geto wraps his arms tight around your middle, mumbling confessions into your ears until he’s spilling deep into you, too. geto cums so much, and you moan at the feeling of being filled up, body slumping forward. between geto’s help and an aching question, you’re content to lay on the stunning car as he snaps a photo of you before cleaning you up.

it’s not until later when you’re at getting pounded again by him when you see his phone screen light up — the screensaver photo being the one of you on his car with legs pried open and cum spilling out your pretty pussy — that you know you’ve got geto wrapped around your finger.

✶ NANAMI

“mr. nanami?” your father calls out in the deserted shop, empty apart from the clang of metal against metal and the late night radio droning on about some love story sent in by a listener. despite how it’s almost 11 at night, your father was always happy to help with people’s cars due to a love for them since he was young.

even if that someone’s car was a 1968 Dodge Charger with a LS3 engine that he only knew the US had. when he comes around the back, he merely rubs his fingers together.

“this guy’s got money money,” you burst out laughing, landing a hit on your dad’s shoulder at his comment, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. looking out from the supply room, the man standing near the entrance of the shop looked exactly like the part: rich, tall, blonde, hot, and donning an annoyed look as he scolds someone named gojo who’s on the other line.

there’s a firm expression set into his features before he lunges forward at the sound of his surname and his pondering expression melts away to make way for a smile, and you swear you feel your knees buckle. but you have no time for daydreaming, also emerging from the room to collect money and complete the transaction like you usually do with clients.

“my daughter here will take your payment,” the older man nods his head toward you after explaining the changes he made to the engine, specifically the crankshaft which contained newer journals with older webs — this particular combination made the oil system faulty and rigid, and even for a tamer temper like nanami’s, it still irritated him to no end when the Dodge Charger wouldn’t start properly.

this would’ve been a piece of cake to solve, though, if it wasn’t for your dad’s japan-only parts, which function minutely different to american engines. so your dad had promised another day to fix nanami’s car after the parts had arrived, even refusing to accept nanami’s apologies and offers to pay for the america-based engine the first time he came to you guys.

it’s like the initial demeanour had faded, bowing profusely at the kind-hearted nature of your dad and he waves it off, passing it off as a passion that still burned strong within him; he only wrote a receipt for the repair of the engine, after all.

“collect the nice man’s payment and close up shop, okay?” your father places a kiss to your template and bids farewell to nanami as well who’s feeling still a little flustered, “i’ll head off to bed first.”

“thank you, truly,” nanami bowed again to you as he felt around for his card, producing a black card for you to process the transaction.

“it’s nothin’. dad’s usually like that, always so generous with his services and then blames it on his passion,” you laugh a little and nanami does too.

“i understand, tell him thank you again.”

you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, handing him back his card with clammy palms and fidgety fingers. you both know you’re not exactly ready to say goodbye to this fine-ass man so you strike up conversation with a terribly stupid opener.

“so… you drive?”

“i would think so,” nanami chuckles as he makes his way over to his Dodge Charger, loving the way you almost want to dig yourself a hole from what you asked, “i race. actually.”

and you swear you can hear the pulse in your pussy quicken, swallowing a lump in your throat at the vision of being spread out on the hood of nanami’s car, blonde head of hair hidden between your legs.

you just didn’t know that vision would come true today; well — tomorrow, since one question led to a conversation past twelve, led to advances from the both of you and now you’re moaning out nanami’s name as your sensitive core is being devoured by the racer, kneeling at the front of his own car like the hood of his car is your throne.

you voice your concerns about being ate out so shamelessly with the garage door open, voice breaking as he eats and laps at your dripping cunt like a starved man, sucking hard on your clit as he plays with your hole, teasing his thick fingers around your entrance just enough for it to clench around nothing.

“it’s past 12, don’t worry your pretty little head about someone watching,” he reassures you, palms spread out against your stomach. “plus, you taste divine,” nanami groans from your core before he plunges a finger into you, causing you to jerk in shock at the intrusion — it’s so good you forget about your worries. “so tight too, shit.”

“nanami…” you drag out the last bits of his name in a whine, hips bucking up to take in more of his needy tongue and his replied hum sends vibrations throughout your body. you’re so wet that you’re able to take another finger. “just like that. oh my god, your t-tongue.” your hand naturally pulls at his blonde locks, pushing him deeper into your centre; he likes it, squeezing your ass in the process.

“can i cum, nanami?” you plead for it, the unexpected obedience has nanami reeling and he gives you the green light.

“’course you can, such a good girl, aren’t you?” the shop is filled with your moans and the dirty, sopping sounds of your pussy as he flicks his tongue, memorising the way your thighs clench around his head and how sweet you smell and taste. he’s definitely not letting this pussy go, “good girls get to cum.”

“i’m gonna— ooh shiitt…” nanami lets your hips go on their own accord and another groan from the racer is enough to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue, “fuuck, i’m cumming-!” he praises you like you’re his royalty while you gush all over him, squirting your release all over his face as he happily downs your juices like he’s done it before. he’s sure to do it again in the future.

“attagirl,” both the metal of his car and his affectionate names for you sends tremors throughout your body and legs, orgasming so hard you see white and it’s clear he enjoys giving head like his life depended on it.

you catch your breath briefly, brushing your fingers through his hair and admiring the sight before you until he returns to his intimidating and looming height, helping you to sit up and patting your thigh affectionately

“hope that’s enough payment for the parts. or would you prefer instalments instead?” he says the cheesy line with such a calm face you’d think he was in a business meeting, but the stoicism makes you stifle a giggle.

it’s not long before you’re returning your dad the money nanami had insisted on, but more importantly, being all dolled up in the passenger seat, his teasing hand on your thigh and a full pretty lace set underneath your miniskirt.

✶ TOJI

it’s not uncommon to find a veteran on the racing scene. fushiguro toji had his time of fame in the 80s, but now he’s back for more after fathering a whole child — something his close friends back then didn’t think he could do. it was an endearing sight, a large, burly man carrying something as precious as megumi but it didn’t halt his drifting trips on the mountains, taking his 1966 Chevrolet Corvette for a ride every time he needed to clear his mind; on a less safer note, megumi as a toddler was sometimes in the passenger seat.

megumi was already set to follow in his footsteps the moment he was born, showing a keen interest in cars more than robots or barbies (toji did buy one when megumi reached for a doll dressed in all black, though) and that only increased when he accompanied his dad on his drift trips, many times imagining himself in front of the wheel, gliding through the corners easily. even if the corvettes in the 60s weren’t exactly drifting material, he learned to do it perfect. plus, it still held memories for toji.

“who’s that?” your friend could hardly stop her jaw from hitting the floor after her comment, clearly a little flustered at seeing a forty year old stroll through the underground car parks like he owned the place. he did, 20 years ago, but his name seems to still precede him when hushed whispers and murmurs follow him. although he’s here to support his son’s first drifting race, he’s still fairly popular to be getting enquiries from curious mechanics and avid car enjoyers.

“megumi’s dad,” you grin with a hidden sense of satisfaction, because you didn’t just know him from afar. how his hips swayed when he walked or how he loved that stupid compression shirt, that was everyone’s perception of him, but you knew how his hips felt as it grinded against you. you always never fail to recall the raspiness of his voice against your ears as he mumbled the dirtiest things, only for you to hear. it’s why you revel in the way your friend’s jaw drop past the concrete into hell when the older man catches your eye (he always liked to look for you in crowds), and winks, prompting the gossip to only increase in volume.

“you’re in cahoots with megumi’s dad?” you didn’t care much if people suspected something going on between the two of you. even megumi didn’t exactly care, who was a few years younger than you in his last year of high school. he was content enough that his dad wasn’t alone after giving so much of him to raise megumi. anyway, you always had his trust fund to rely on and if anyone fucked you as good at toji did, you wouldn’t give two shits either way.

“hey doll,” toji’s grin matches yours, planting a sloppy kiss to your temple as you both wait at his Corvette, all roughed up from the race the day before. he hasn’t had time to fix it up, driving the familiar route to the mechanics before you sent him a text about how megumi’s got challenged to a race by some newbie at school — it was laughable so much so that it even prompted toji to use those emojis he hated so much.

it was a race worth seeing, especially if one of the contestants was the tokyo drifting king’s son. toji doesn’t need to say much, waving off megumi with a salute before the countdown begins like clockwork. the increasing revs of their engines draw you from your stupor, the newbie looking wrongfully excited despite the failure that’ll befall him in a few minutes. once go is signalled, they take off, giggling at you feel toji’s arm curl around your waist.

“he’ll win,” he’s as nonchalant as they come, but it rings true when he’s the one who had megumi going 15 rounds ’round the docks and mountains every week. with screeching tires, a RB26DETT engine and years of drifting lessons to back him up, megumi finishes the race first. he rolls his eyes when his friends and fans crowd his car like moths to a flame, but he can’t help shoot a wave to his father who smiles genuinely. it was unspoken that megumi was silently thanking him inside, before he drives off to celebrate the easy win.

“c’mon, baby. we’ve had our share. say goodbye like a good girl,” you pull your friend into a side hug who’s still barely able to wrap her head around the two of you, but she’s able to muster a brief goodbye before the rev of his Corvette draws eyes once again, speeding off into the night. it’s clear toji’s on a high from watching his son race and win, seeing it in the way he goes full throttle past shibuya square and down inokashira street with a laugh.

the fire in his eyes, the coy grin he’s got on reminds you of times you’ve experienced the feeling of toji deep in you, clutching onto the sheets on the tatami mats and face shoved into the pillow as he bullies his fat cock into you. the thoughts have you feeling up his thigh, and he doesn’t notice your wandering, needy hands until they come incredibly close to his cock. he shifts gears before grasping onto your wrist, shooting you a look of warning.

but you do anything but listen, rejoicing in your small victory when you feel the car slow down from his speeding spree so it’s safe for you. palming his bulge, you gasp at how hard he already is and he adjusts his lower half, clearly uncomfortable with his tightening pants.

“let me make you feel good, toji,” you mumble, hands fumbling with his belt and zipper before you pull his dick from his boxers, looking so pretty with its mushroom tip that leaks pre-cum. toji pulls lightly on your hair as a second warning before you’re able to twist your body to lean down, eyes flitting up to look at him in faux apology. “sorry, daddy.”

toji sighs once your mouth descends on his cock, eyebrows furrowed and hand squeezing your nape in pleasure. no matter how many times you get his length in his mouth, the size always catches you off guard and it causes you to choke when the car runs over a speedbump. you have to take a second to cough.

“sorry, babylove,” you wordlessly shake your head as a way to say it’s okay, because toji takes care of you without you needing to ask him; it’s only fair he deserves his own fair share of care too. “but your mouth— shit. feels so fuckin’ good on daddy’s cock.”

you suck in your cheeks and pump the places where your mouth can’t reach, sides already aching from the uncomfortable position but you continue to bob your head. toji’s groans and bucking hips has got you soaking your panties, spit and pre-cum dribbling down the sides of his length and you waste no time to lick a stripe to clean up, settling for circling your tongue around his tip.

toji moans out with a number of profanities and a fist tightly clenched around the steering wheel — your mouth is so soft and warm that he decides that he needs to pull over at a quiet parking lot behind a bar so he can focus on fucking your mouth and imagine it’s your tight pussy he’s plunging into, not that he has to imagine. your lips are still on him when the car halts and you feel more stable than ever, both hands pulling apart his thighs to take him deeper into your mouth.

“cock’s so big,” you babble and ramble like a little slut, slurping up your messy job with the help of your hands. just like your walls, the ridges along your mouth feel lovely and when his tip meets the back of your throat, he throws his head back. “need your cum down my throat…” 

“yeah?” toji breathes out, hands tangling themselves in your hair before tapping your skull, a discussed rule for the two of you: two taps on your head when he wants to facefuck you, and two taps on his thigh if you can’t breathe. “i’ll have ta fuck your little whore mouth first, can daddy do that?”

you nod lazily, steadying yourself on the compartment housing the stick shift before his hips lift off the seat and he starts a pace that even he can’t keep up for long. one look at your cute doe eyes has got him whining and mumbling about how pretty you look right now, clutching on your head so hard that it has his knuckle turning white.

toji’s thighs are flexing and contracting from the movement, but you can point out when he starts to fumble and tremble at the mercy of your mouth. his thrusts are getting sporadic, just like how you’re reaching your limit, too, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “g’nna cum down your throat, baby, ya want that?”

you sound a hum of agreement before toji’s hips still and he shoots his load down your throat, thick blobs of cum that spill from his tip, “that’s it, doll, take it all like a good slut,” and you swallow at least twice to get it all down. you show him a small amount of cum left on your tongue before he brings you up to kiss you harshly, giving your ass a firm smack and then you’re plopping down onto the seat again, wiping the side of your mouth like a good meal well devoured.

the wind is immediately knocked out of you as he brings up the speed with a hand inching towards your core, and you’re so glad he’s switched out his 327 small-block for a 427 V8 engine, the lampposts speeding past you and his fingers playing with your cunt enough to give you an adrenaline high to last throughout the night, cause toji’s far from done with you.

okay i digress. / pt. 2 here

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru drabble #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto imagines #toji x reader #toji smut #toji thirst #toji headcanons #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #nanami kento drabble #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami smut

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates!

Part 2 AO3

Steve didn’t hate him exactly.

He was just… vastly irritated by his very presence.

When they’d fallen into being roommates with Eddie, Steve and Robin were just happy to have anywhere to live. 

They’d spent a few weeks living in the ageing BMW after they’d gotten booted by their previous landlord when the rent had spiked again and they couldn’t afford to pay it anymore.

Then Dustin had come to them saying he had a friend that had a spare bedroom that he needed to fill and they had jumped at the chance. 

It wasn’t a terrible apartment, all things considered. 

The bathroom needed a bimonthly mould clean out and the water pressure was nonexistent. It was almost always colder inside than it was outside, no matter how hot the weather got and the front door had clear signs of being broken down before, with a new lock haphazardly slapped over where the old one had been but it was shockingly quiet and secluded. 

A small and unassuming building that people tended to glance over sitting close enough to the city centre so that everything was within walking distance. It was twice the size of the place Steve and Robin had lived before, an open plan kitchen and sitting room with enough room for a dining table creating a barrier between the two. 

A nice dining table too. 

One that could fit more than two people.

Two bedrooms, one bathroom. 

Eddie had apparently wrinkled his nose at the idea of sharing with a couple but Steve and Robin weren’t about to correct him. He was a completely unknown person who seemed to make it his mission to look mean and scary, no matter what Dustin said about him. 

So Steve refused to feel bad about making assumptions.

But the guy was less mean and scary and mostly just annoying.

He left his shit everywhere, like he’d never heard of fucking organisation before. And he was so loud and exuberant all the time. Like yeah, they guy could enjoy his passions or whatever but that didn’t mean Steve had to like being an unwilling participant in it.

When Robin moved out, Steve stayed even though it was clear Eddie would have preferred if he'd gone too. 

He wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate was a lot. 

And he certainly wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate kept dropping hints he wanted his special someone to move in and Steve to move out.

Steve would show Eddie the meaning of stubborn.

They bickered like an old married couple constantly and Steve couldn’t exactly say that he hadn’t risen to the bait or caused his own fair share of problems between the two of them either.

Things had only marginally shifted once Eddie had proudly stuck up a flyer advertising the set list for the Pride Parade After Party that his band had somehow been signed to perform at.

When he caught Steve looking at it one morning he’d levelled him with his smuggest smile, like he’d just won some kind of argument. Like he was just waiting for Steve to go on a homophobic rant and run out of the apartment, never to return.

“Got a problem there, Stevie boy?”

Eddie crossed his arms loosely over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter with a feral look in his eyes, itching for a fight.

Steve had just turned to him with his sharpest, most cutting grin and lifted open the zippered side of his bomber jacket, revealing his bi pride flag patch sewn to the inner pocket.

“No.”

Eddie had glared at the patch like it had personally offended him before storming off to his room with a scowl.

After that, the barbs thrown at each other had gotten a little more… queer.

After one particularly frustrating argument, Steve had snapped at Eddie “I know how to keep a fucking shower drain clean, Mary.” before snatching his keys up and slamming the door behind him.

When Steve had finally seen fit to talk to Eddie again, nearly two full days later, huffing at him to hurry up in the kitchen, he wanted some coffee, Eddie had turned with the most exaggerated face of surprise and his hands thrown up in shock as he proclaimed, “She speaks!”

Steve had rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Jesus, you’re such a queen.”

Eddie had levelled him with his own cutting smile and responded, “That I am, darling.”

After that their arguments were full of a lot more condescending and patronising ‘Mary’s and ‘sweetie’s and ‘oh, honey’s.

It gave Steve the strangest feeling of companionship. Not only with Eddie, loathe as he was to admit it, but also with the culture and with the queers of old who were still around, who’d had to kick and spit and fight just to be seen.

Eddie had been buzzing around the apartment all day. 

It was A Big Date Night™ apparently. 

He was gonna ask the boyfriend to take a road trip with him back to Indiana to meet Wayne, a big step that he’d never made with a partner before.

Steve liked Wayne. But he liked even more how irritated Eddie was that they spoke. Wayne had called the apartment one day looking for his nephew and when Steve answered he heard the sounds of a game in the background and asked about it.

It was over forty five minutes later Steve turned to find Eddie staring at him with a horrified expression on his face and Steve couldn’t help the evil glint in his eye as he continued to debate Wayne on their favourite players.

But Eddie had left hours ago now and it was getting… late.

Really, really late.

Like four in the morning late and he hadn’t come home yet.

He was supposed to, he needed to be up the next morning for his shift at the nerd shop he worked at and he loved that job. He wouldn't miss it for anything.

Steve wasn’t like, worried or anything.

Not that Eddie needed to be babied, he wasn’t one of his kids. 

He was just… looking out for the safety of another human being.

The only light in the dark apartment was coming from the low glow of the tv and it was so quiet there was barely a sound coming from the speaker. Steve was curled up on the couch, swaddled in a throw and his mind kept drifting. 

He couldn’t pay attention to whatever was playing, his brain just kept catastrophising about what the fuck could have happened to make Eddie so late. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin and simultaneously felt his body unclench when he heard a key in the lock and recognised Eddie's wild head of hair coming into the apartment.

But that didn’t last long because Eddie caught the door before it could close with a loud snap like it usually did, shutting it slowly and softly behind him.

It was alarming because Eddie never remembered to close the door quietly, no matter how much Steve bitched at him. And it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, Steve knew that, it’s just that his mind was most often somewhere else, focused on some other thing so that he simply… forgot.

Eddie cursed low to himself as he slumped into the kitchen, pulling the freezer door open and rummaging around for a bit before pulling something out.

He kept his head low, hair spilling out around his face as he jumped up onto the counter and sat. 

He still hadn’t noticed Steve sitting there, watching the whole exchange under the dim flickering light of the television.

It looked like Eddie had snatched up a bag of Steve’s frozen peas. And they were Steve’s. Because Eddie didn’t eat anything green unless it was artificially coloured and covered in sugar.

Eddie squeezed the peas in hand hands, considering, before he muttered to himself, “so fucking stupid” and brought them up to rest on the side of his face.

That kicked Steve into action, unfurling himself from the couch, keeping his throw around his shoulders because it was fucking cold and he padded over to the kitchen in his fluffy socks.

“Eddie?”

Frozen peas scattered, skittling across the tiled floor, landing in the sink, ricocheting off the cupboard doors and clattering off the walls as Eddie jumped violently at the sound of his name, softly spoken as it was. 

He’d snapped his head up and Steve could see, in the dim light of the tv behind him, unusual darkness spreading over Eddie’s face, like a stain on his pale skin.

Eddie tightened his hands again around the now mostly empty bag, looking back down at it. 

“‘M sorry about your peas.” He mumbled.

Steve could only blink in response. 

Eddie wasn’t supposed to mumble. 

He wasn’t supposed to be quiet and subdued and wilted. 

He was supposed to be loud and brash and tawdry and bright.

“I’m gonna turn the light on, okay?” Steve tried to keep any rising panic and worry out of his voice, tried to keep himself calm and level. He could barely just make out the small nod Eddie gave after a beat of hesitation.

The light was harsh and painful after so long spent in mostly darkness and Steve had to squint through his glasses waiting for his eyes to adjust, but when they did he felt his stomach drop.

Eddie's face was scrunched up as he tried to blink through brightness but that wasn’t what caught Steve’s attention. 

Because there was blood crusting on the side of Eddie’s face, settled around his eye and in his hair from a gash over his eyebrow. His lip was split and puffy and swollen and his cheek was slowly blooming from red to purple.

“You should see the other guy.” Eddie grinned with a wince, when he noticed Steve cataloguing, but his eyes stayed distant and sad.

“What…” Steve stepped closer, hovering his hand over the injuries, over his hair. “What happened?”

Eddie shrugged, dipping his eyes back down to the melting bag of peas in his hands. “We had a disagreement.”

Steve looked down too and gently took the peas out of his grip, placing the bag in the sink next to them. 

It was only then that he noticed Eddie’s knuckles were bloodied as well, split and starting to swell.

He had to swallow against the sickening anger coiling in his throat as he closed a gentle hand around Eddie’s cold fingers and he tugged it over to the sink, turning the tap on. 

“Your peas-”

“Fuck the fucking peas, Eddie!” Steve snapped before trying to reel himself back in when Eddie flinched, nearly pulling his hand away but stopping himself at the last moment.

With the softest movements he could manage, Steve got Eddie’s fingers as soapy as he could before slowly working his rings left and right, pulling them off his fingers.

“What are you doing?” It wasn’t quite a whisper but the question was low, almost like a hum.

“Your fingers are going to start to swell soon. I can leave them on if you’d rather have them cut off later?” Steve looked up to see Eddie watching their hands working together under the dribble of the tap. 

He shook his head.

“Well okay then.” He tugged the last ring free and examined them, silver and wet and heavy in his palm. 

There was still some dried blood in the grooves. 

“Did you at least get him good with these?” He gestured to them before placing them carefully to the side and gently towling Eddie’s injured hand dry.

A smirk tugged at the uninjured side of Eddie’s mouth. “You’re damn right I did.”

Steve gave a short sharp nod, placing Eddie’s hand back in his lap. “Good.” 

He moved over to the freezer, pulling out his own cold compress which Eddie hadn’t chosen for some reason and tugging the first aid kit from on top of the fridge.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” He said, trying to keep his voice even and his posture lighthearted as he laid the stuff out next to Eddie’s leg. He pulled their second drawer open and took a clean dish towel out, running it under the tap.

“Why, Stevie? You worried about me?” Eddie tried to grin but it quickly turned into a grimace as Steve pressed the damp cloth against the cut on his eyebrow, his lips turning down.

“Don’t be precious about it, honey. Just tell me. I’ll never stop pestering you until you do.” He pulled the cloth away and started gently brushing it across Eddie’s skin, trying to remove as much of the dried blood as he could.

“Alright, alright, keep your wig on.” Eddie huffed and pulled his mouth into a frown before shrugging again. ”Well I’m single now.”

Steve managed to keep his hands working, only halting for just a second as the words hit him. “Rick did this?”

“Yep.” Eddie said with a pop. “Everything was going good, you know. Standard date stuff, whatever. Then I asked him to come meet Wayne and he looked at me. Said, and I quote; ‘What exactly do you think this is?’”

Eddie snorted and shook his head. 

Steve was forced to pull the cloth away to stop tugging on the broken skin. “Wait so-”

“So apparently I’ve been seeing this whole thing as more serious than it was. Apparently I’ve been putting feelings where there were none. And get this,” he grabbed Steve’s hand, stalling his movements again and forcing him to look into those giant deep brown eyes, “he’s married.”

Steve felt his mouth drop open in an indignant stare. “No.”

“Yeah. I know, right? I’ve been the other woman this whole time.” He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “Just a bit of fun.” He tongued at his split lip. "And it's my problem, my fault that I didn't figure it out, according to him." He shook his head, forcing Steve to retract his hand from around his eye. "The fucker took his wedding band off every time we met, so…"

Rather than grabbing Eddie gently by the chin, which he was really, quite horrifyingly tempted to do, he instead said, "Be a dear and stop moving."

Eddie levelled him with a glare but there wasn't much behind it, it was all performative even as he tutted and started twisting the chain on his jeans around in his fingers. But he stopped moving his head.

"So how did that lead to this?"

Eddie scoffed. "How do you think, Mary? I got mad."

"Well good. You should've been mad. Did you throw the first punch?"

"Technically?" Eddie hummed in consideration. "Yes. But he had his hands on me before that soo…"

Steve froze, he couldn’t help it. 

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

"In what way?" He kept his voice light but the bright white concern underneath was like a foghorn. 

Eddie shrugged again and turned his head, giving Steve more access to the blood crusted above his ear and into his hairline. 

Then he leaned forward just a little bit more until his forehead was resting against Steve's shoulder.

Steve reached back to pull Eddie's hair out of the way, over the back of his neck so he could clean up his hairline.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, the silence wasn't tense but it wasn't calm either. It was anticipatory. Eddie was building himself up to answer.

"He didn't see a problem with the situation, I mean obviously he didn't see a problem with the situation so he just wanted to… continue, I suppose. We'd been… experimenting with switching before this and he tried to go full dom on me. Kept trying to get me to submit." Eddie's voice had started to shake even though he tried valiantly to keep it down and it made Steve wonder just how long he'd been keeping it down already. 

Steve dropped the cloth off in the sink and brought a hand up, resting it on the back of Eddie's still bent head, making sure not to cage him in, making sure to keep his touches light and gentle but still there if he wanted them.

"I didn't- I didn't want to anymore but he just kept going and I told him he wasn't asking my consent, he was demanding it. He said I had to do what he wanted because he was in charge and that’s how it works-” 

“Eddie, that is not how it works-”

“Yes, thank you, darling. I know that. I told him that wasn't what's done, no matter the dynamics and he was just getting more and more pissed off, like I was ruining his fun and he wouldn’t get off of me so I just… fucking decked him." Eddie laughed, a terrible broken thing. “I thought… I thought we had… it had been so good while… why can’t I have… why does it always have to end like this?”

His voice had become harsher, more defeated as he went on, cracking and pitching along the words until the end. Until a heart wrenching choked off sound was pulled from his throat.

Eddie was weeping softly into Steve’s shoulder and his hands were twitching in his lap, like he wanted to reach out, like he wanted some comfort but didn’t know if he was allowed. 

But he must have decided he didn’t care if he was allowed or not because the next second he’d thrown his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him in tight, sniffling openly and freely into his neck.

Steve took the tiniest of steps closer and wound his arms around Eddie’s middle, bypassing his leather jacket and battle vest, snaking his arms underneath until there was just the threadbare band t-shirt between them.

He ran a hand up and down Eddie’s back as he shook, while Eddie just clutched on tighter.

“Why does it always have to be… why can’t I… why…” a terrible little sob broke out of Eddie’s throat. “Why does no one ever want me the way I want them?”

Steve had to pinch his eyes shut against the pure heartbreak in his voice, coming out halting and thick and so small. 

He just held him tighter, whispering little placating words and small shushes that he felt more in his chest than he did his throat. 

He hesitated for just a moment before placing a light little kiss to the side of Eddie’s head, into his hair. The same kind of kiss he’d give to Robin or one of the kids if they were in the same situation. 

That was all.

“God.” Eddie muttered, pulling back and scrubbing his hands roughly over his eyes and nose, apparently uncaring of his injuries. “Your shirt is fucking disgusting.” He eyed the stains and wet patches and no doubt little traces of blood he’d accidentally left there. “What makes you think that’s an appropriate state to appear in?”

Steve just rolled his eyes, taking the lighthearted jab for what it was, a want to move on, to start snarking again and cracked open the first aid kit. 

“Your face is disgusting.”

“Yeah, well. You’re the one who’s been cleaning me up, sweetheart. So, who’s fault is that?”

He glanced up at the cut over Eddie’s eyebrow. 

“That might need stitches.”

“No stitches, can’t be bothered with stitches.”

“Stitches not punk enough for you?”

Eddie did glare at him for that.

“Don’t even. You know I’m not a punk.”

Steve grinned at him. “No?”

“Steven.”

Even through the heavy talk, Steve relished the sight of the slight smile that had appeared on Eddie’s face and his return to bitchy banter.

“Edward, is there a difference?” Steve shrugged as he fished for supplies in the kit. “Doesn’t seem to be.”

“To you, maybe.” Eddie flicked at a piece of his hair. “God you’re such a… you’re such a jock.”

“Wow,” Steve raised his eyebrows, “let’s add observant to your list of positives.”

“Assho-ow!” Eddie shrieked as Steve pressed a butterfly bandage over the wound.

“You’re a giant pain in my ass.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Eddie growled at him, irritated and snappy, “you perpetual bottom.”

“Excuse you,” Steve snapped back, “I switch it up. I have versatility."

“Uh-huh.”

“But you gotta admit,” Steve flashed his most charming grin, “it’s a lovely bottom.”

Eddie scoffed but there was a red flush starting to creep up his neck. “S’not like I pay much attention to your bottom.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Steve gave a disappointed sigh, “everyone pays attention to my bottom.”

He didn’t get a response, just a bitchy roll of the eyes.

“You gonna call out of work tomorrow?” He dropped the cloth into the sink and crossed his arms as Eddie leaned back on his hands.

“Why? So you can mother hen me all day? No, thank you.”

“Oh sweetie.” Steve regarded him with mock sympathy. “You think you’d be lucky enough to get my mothering?”

“What if I die in my sleep tonight? You’d be inconsolable.”

“Yeah. Simply devastated.” He said as he all but pushed Eddie off the counter and herded him back to his room.

Part 2 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut (I remember you showing interest for this one but I won't tag you again unless you ask! 😘)

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #robin buckley #enemies to lovers #roommates au #roommates

[simpjaes]

currently thinking about frat!jayke fucking u in the hot tub infront of a major crowd of people… 😣 sitting ontop of jake whilst taking it in the back from jay as music (preferably “all the time” by jeremiah >_<) blasts loudly amongst the speakers, just to add a lil smth smth to such a sensual moment

not sure why but the thought of having sex in a bikini is so hot :// the fondling of straps and jaykes veiny hands in general 💗

i am speaking from my grave.

warnings: anal with no prep // drunk fucking @ party

ah, you're wearing your bikini with the ties intentionally so whoever you have your eye on can have the easiest access possible at this shitty and trashy college party.

what you weren't expecting what having an eye for two people. Jay and Jake, the two guys you've seen occasionally on campus. They were always together, best friends or some shit.

you wouldn't know, your best friend chose to go to a different college out of state, but whatever.

what you also weren't expecting was for the two dudes who are always together to....share a girl??? publicly? as if laying claim to you blatantly showed their status over everyone else?

it kind of did, if you're being honest, because you cannot hold in the moans even when you fucking try. right here, shamelessly moaning for all ears to hear and all eyes to ogle at.

all cameras to record.

whatever.

what started with five or so people in this hot tub ended with just the three of you, where jay worked his magic through his hands and jake works his through words.

you were a goner, with or without the alcohol in your system to be honest. if jay were to untie the side of your bottoms the same way he just did when you were sober? you'd probably have untied the other side for him.

and when jake pulls you onto his lap? making you feel weightless in the bubbling hot water as you sat directly on it, and slid right down on him without so much as noticing when he pulled it out of his shorts? ah, made it even easier to not be shocked when you felt jay against your back.

his chest wet, dripping with that same warm water as he made sure you were right where you needed to be for his best friend.

your arousal that hit you like a ton a bricks within seconds, paired with jay's cock teasing you right against your ass? whatever, at this point you want to be fucked in all possible ways by the two men against you right now.

and they do just that. jay soothing you against your ear through the pain of him sliding straight into your ass with words of "aw, you're just gonna take him?", pretending like you definitely didn't need prep. jake, under you with his own words of "fuck, relax. squeezing me so tight-", holding your waist with a white knuckled grip, forcing both you and himself to try and adjust to the feeling of jay's thick cock forcing it's way into too-tight of a space.

ah, all three of you are panting by the time your body relaxes for both cocks, overheated, overstuffed, and there for all eyes to see within the span of a few minutes. not that you care. surely you will by the time monday comes around though.

except you don't. Because now you have two hot guys???? walking beside you??????? all the fucking time???????? constantly trying to get inside of you again?????????????????????

ah, college life. where you thought the grades would fuck you harder than any man could. And that would be 100% correct if it weren't for the fact that you didn't exactly factor in two hot guys :/

#enhypen smut #jongseong smut #jaeyun smut #jay smut #jake smut #hardthots #enha smut #enhypen hard hours

[gremlingottoosilly]

Short!Reader who by all means believes she's the protector/assertive one in the relationship and constantly tries to protect him especially from people who are being mean to her boyfriend, Konig

Heyyyy 4'10ft anon back, I could definitely imagine her standing in front of him trying to yell at someone and then thinking she was the one to actually intimate them while König practically looks like those horror movie slashers standing behind her with his 6'10ft ass

Konig who never had anyone to protect him. Like, never ever. He had his parents - who were traditional "child out of sight and out of mind" type, with his father only looking at him when Konig knew he fucked something up. His mom sometimes patted him on the head - and even that affection seethed to exist after he grew taller than her. He was always the one to protect himself - from enemies, from bullies, from mean waiters in the cafes and weird old ladies who thought he was a terrorist. Always assumed to be the most dangerous(and biggest) man in the room, he got used to fighting on his own. Then you came in. God knows, you're fucking adorable. Short and tiny, he can literally pick you up and put you in his pocket - yet, somehow, you are always the one to try and save him. Konig isn't the type of guy to be too shy to ask for something in the coffee shop, but he also wouldn't be fussy if the barista got his order wrong. You'd be the one to come to the counter and correct them, the one to order for both of you and act like you just protected him from a dragon or something. Konig always have to bite down a laugh when you do this - you're so full of yourself, so prideful about everything, he likes that about you. His precious girl, so eager to help in every way...he got used to having you by his side. You're a bit too eager sometimes though. Picking up fights with wrong people, forcing Konig to finally acknowledge the fact you're being so antagonistic - he wants for you to feel better and for you to feel nice so, obviously, he will just stand behind you and make sure that whatever thug is talking to you, won't get any ideas. You might look like a small fry, like nothing compared to your boyfriend - but Konig is more than eager to give you an ego boost and make you think like you were the one to shoo the bastard away, and not your boyfriend who just picked out his biggest knife out of a pocket.

#cod #konig #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod

[jungkookstatts]

Not in the Way You Think

[Summary]: You've been after your best friend for ages. But how are you supposed to know that he's after you too if he insists on being a bachelor until his dying breath?

[Theme]: ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, dry humping, protected sex, fluff, somewhat angst, many many years of pining, making out, oral. Soft dom/Dom JK, sub Reader, virgin things, mention of alcohol and a pen

[Word Count]: 6,043

[A/N]: Hi. I've resurrected. For now. Enjoy! Also, if anyone knows what's going on with my materialist -- sos!!

[Materialist]

“Sorry, but there’s no fucking way,” your best friend scoffs against the lip of his dab pen. He was about to take a hit, but was abruptly stopped before you told him something completely unbelievable to his ears.

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you whine.

God, this is so embarrassing. You fiddle with the rims of your hoodie's sleeve, examining it in shame. You can’t dare to look at the face of your best friend on the other side of the couch. His words already make you feel embarrassed enough, you can’t imagine what looking at his face would do.

“Y/n,” he starts again, that disbelieving smirk proving to adorn his features. “You’re 24 years old. What the fuck.”

“24-year-olds can be virgins, too, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes. “Not everyone strives to have over 30 bodies on their ‘fucked list’ by this age.”

You feel so embarrassed. Of all people, you thought your best friend wouldn’t shame you like this. It’s already embarrassing enough to be at this age and to not have tried anything sexual with anyone before. You’re inexperienced. You know that. But the conversation originally didn’t start this way. What was once a talk about which flavored soju was better than the other, turned into a ridiculing conversation about your lame sex life. The last thing you need is his bantering about how shocking it is to hear everything you haven’t done yet.

“57,” he corrects you with yet another smirk. This time, there’s a tease in his eye, obviously waiting for your reaction on his body count number. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “Forget it.” 

You try to grab the remote on the coffee table, but Jungkook takes it before you can. 

“Wait, now,” he laughs when you smack his arm. “I’m not done asking about this yet.” 

“Jungkook!” you whine. “I’m seriously so embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it with you anymore.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?!” He raises his pierced eyebrow. “What about Taehyung? And Soobin? Aren’t those guys your ex’s? You had to have done something with them, Y/n, c’mon.” 

“Yes!” you blush harshly. “Of course I’ve kissed people before. I’ve just never…done anything dirty with them.” 

“Not even like a hand job or anything?” he raises his other eyebrow.

“Jungkook, please stop reacting like that. You’re making me feel worse,” you tuck your hair behind your ear. 

It’s no news that Jungkook is not only your childhood best friend but he’s also been a notorious fuck-boy since about 5 years ago when the two of you moved to a different city to attend the same college. He has always told you that he was going to spend his university life being a bachelor, making it a goal of his to see how many girls he could get underneath him by the age of 25. He's gathered quite a lot. Except now, he’s more knowledgeable than you for once, and you’re not taking the news so well.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But his words prove to be carried with no remorse. “Not even oral?” 

“Jungkook!” you kick his knee. “Seriously. I continued this conversation with you because I thought you’d be nicer about it. You’re obviously the experienced one here. But clearly, you’re not experienced enough to know that not everyone is constantly looking for which sexual activity to try on the next stranger.” 

You’ve been his #1 ear to all of his stories for years now, no matter how repetitive they can be…or how much they secretly punch you in the gut every time he tells you a new one.

The two of you couldn’t be more opposite. He’s sporty and social, you’re quiet and mellow. He’s into the music and business world, whereas you’re into radiology and all-things-hospital. He’d rather spend his free time partying and making himself feel good in any way that he can, whereas you’d spend your free time wrapped in a book or having coffee over a new podcast about aliens.

But no matter your differences, the grunge boy that you grew up with sitting on the opposite side of the couch, making fun of you and laughing at the sheer difference in how the two of you chose to live out your college years, will always be your best friend. He might remain a crush or even your first love, but nothing can change the fact that the two of you click like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t trade anything for that, even your secrets about what you feel for him. 

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just–wow. It’s just shocking to me, I don’t know. Especially for you.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scrunch your eyebrows together. 

“Well, I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, putting his pen on the table. “It’s no secret you were the girl every guy was trying to get into their bed all throughout college…and high school.” 

“Tch,” you shake your head. “As if, Kook. Don’t try to make up for ridiculing me about my sex life by covering it up with fake scenarios.”

“I’m serious, Y/n. Just as serious as you are about this,” he says. “You thought that Soobin, the university's #1 crush–a guy even more wanted than me–would agree to go out with you and date you if you weren’t the hottest chick in the school?” 

“Yeah, well, that was short-lived,” you scoff, remembering the events of your break up. “He didn’t really want me. Or well, he did, but not like how I thought.”

“This is why I’m shocked,” he explains further. “Literally every man that I knew talked about you. I don’t know how their efforts could have gone unnoticed by you. But I guess you were too in your head to notice. You had the hottest man in the school, but not even that was enough to even make you think about doing anything with him?” 

As much as that information flatters you, it doesn’t satisfy you at all. Truthfully, Jungkook could talk about any man in the world that might want you. But if that category doesn’t include him, the thought doesn’t arouse you at all. 

Your own brain can’t even wrap itself around why you were so hung up on him. Why would you possibly want a guy like Jungkook to want you. He’s careless and reckless. He doesn’t give things a second thought and pushes all your buttons at the worst times. He’s foolish and irresponsible – a walking stick screaming ‘bad news’.

But at the same time, he is oh-so gentle. He’s kind and sweet, considerate and respectful. His touch makes you jolt, and his voice relieves your headaches in an instant. You feel safe when he is there, and absolutely terrified when he is not. He’s strong and capable, but also sentimental at heart. 

You don’t think you could find anyone else like him in the world. No one like your Jungkook. 

No wonder your past relationships didn’t work out for you. Taehyung you broke up with out of frustration. It was with him that you realized that Jungkook was too in your head to be dating anyone fairly. And just when you thought you were over Jungkook being your ideal man, Soobin walked into your life. But since he broke up with you over your own inexperience, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how maybe you waited too long. No one wants someone who has no idea what they’re doing in the bedroom at the age of 24. Most of society at this age is dating to marry. You’re still dating for the experience. 

“It’s not that I didn’t think about doing anything with him,” you respond. “I just–I don’t know. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t–I don’t know. We just weren’t a good match. The same goes for Taehyung and everyone else before him and Soobin.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything that you’re saying.

“But it’s all irrelevant now,” you continue. “We’re graduated, and there’s nothing I can do about previous male efforts towards getting me in their sheets. It’s just–there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Clearly,” Jungkook agrees. “Sex is like–life. You truly don’t know until you try. Do you even masturbate?” 

“Jungkook,” you sigh quietly, as a disappointed palm presses against your forehead. “You weren’t supposed to agree to that.” 

“Well, do you?” 

“Of course, I masturbate.” 

“And that hasn’t persuaded you at all? Don’t you imagine what it would feel like to have something other than your fingers or some toy getting you off?” 

“That’s so graphic,” you scowl. 

“Well, do you?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you agree. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just too hung up on a scenario that’s not possible–at least not for me.”

“You’re pined after by millions, Y/n,” he sits up straight on the couch, his legs folding against the cushions to get a better look at you. “Any scenario is possible in your world. Especially related to sex. You could get any man that you wanted to if you just broke down a wall or two and went after them.” 

“That’s not–never mind,” you give up. You’re too embarrassed to admit anything. You also don’t really want to. Risking your friendship with Jungkook isn’t worth letting out a secret like this. You’d lose him forever, and you can’t risk that. “No one wants a 24-year-old virgin,” you begin again, trying to move on from your previous words. “Unless they’re a crazy perv, or one of those dudes who thinks that only ‘marriageable girls’ should be virgins until they tie the knot. And, well, those guys are just…weird.” 

Jungkook laughs at your words and a small smile forms on your lips from the sound of his laugh. 

“Y/n, what are you saying?” he exclaims amidst his laughter. “Look at you! You haven't lost a cent of your desirability in all the years I’ve known you. Any guy would want you.”

“But not you,” 

“Huh?” 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you just say that?! 

The thought slipped past your lips without a second thought. There’s heat in your cheeks, and you can’t bear to look at Jungkook’s face. You might have fucked everything up now. Just over a thought you didn’t think twice about. Your brain must have been done suppressing it, but now you have to sit here and wait for the consequences of letting it all go. 

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “C-Can you give me the remote? I’d like to drop this and finish this show.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he laughs in disbelief. His rough hand gently wraps around your wrist, forcing you to look at him again. “What did you just say?” 

“Jungkook, please,” you cry. There’s fear in your voice. You’re so scared of losing him, you can’t even think properly. All you want to do is pretend like nothing happened. Like this whole conversation didn’t happen and you were back to talking about flavored soju. The thought of losing your best friend floods your mind, and you beg him with your eyes to stop. But he’s unrelenting. 

Jungkook scoffs at the look in your eye, his grip loosening on your wrist before sliding it off completely. 

“Y/n, you are so oblivious, it actually gets on my nerves more than anything in this world sometimes,” he says. 

You feel your heart sink to your stomach. 

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you this because I thought it was obvious how I feel about you,” he laughs to himself. “I don’t know how long you’ve noticed, or if you’ve even noticed at all, but I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, Y/n. And it’s only grown since then. So don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want you.” 

Words fail to leave your lips. You’ve had so much shock and embarrassment during your time spent with him tonight. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 

“Jungkook, none of this is making sense,” you stop him. As much as your heart leaps at his confession, a part of you is still completely misunderstanding something. “You mean to tell me that you’ve had a crush on me for how long? And yet in the meantime, you’ve made it your mission to be with every woman on campus? How in the world do you expect me to think you had feelings for me when every Saturday morning you tell me about whose pussy you were up the night before? How was I supposed to know?”

There’s a bit of anger in your voice. All these years of getting your heart shattered over his countless stories about girls that weren’t you. About how he kissed Emily on Friday night and then fucked her best friend, Rachel, in the ass a few hours later. About how he went all the way home one weekend just to fuck your high school calculus teacher. Or about the countless times you’ve walked into your shared apartment with him, only to look down and see an extra pair of girly high-heels sitting by the door next to his shoes. Or the many pairs of unfamiliar panties you’ve found in the wash. Or the smell of strong perfume constantly stained on his side of the couch. 

“How in the world did I expect you to think I had feelings for you?” he reiterated your questions irritably. “Y/n, I asked you to be my date to prom! Hell, don’t even try to cut out the fact that we almost kissed when we graduated high school. I hung out with you every day after school in both high school and college. Fuck, half the reason I came to this university was to be by your side. We even have an apartment together!” 

“You’re my best friend, Jungkook!” you explain. 

“You don’t have to remind me,” he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I gave up trying to make us anything more than friends a while ago. Fuck, every time I lay with a girl it’s the biggest reminder of all that we’ll only be friends.” 

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you cry. A tear falls down your cheek from his words. God, you’re so frustrated and angry and annoyed and so relieved. You don’t know which emotion to put first. “Fuck you. You shattered me into pieces. You call me oblivious when I’ve spent years loving you. But you’ve been too busy telling me about who you’re going to fuck next to notice." 

Jungkook breathes heavily, anger leaving his nostrils. His eyes are foreign to yours. You’ve never seen so much emotion in them at once. 

And then suddenly he’s on your side of the couch, hovering over you, holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm. His lips sear against yours kissing you with passion you’ve never felt before. 

It’s second nature to hold his face in your hands. His ears slip between your middle and index finger; the cool metal of his earrings touches your skin gently. 

You moan into him when you glide your right hand into his locks, pressing him tighter against your body. Jungkook grunts at the feeling of your hand in his hair. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel you like this. No matter how many times he’s imagined it before, no matter how many times he’s pretended it was you instead of the stranger beneath him, the feeling of imagining you is nothing compared to the feeling of actually having you right there in his arms. 

You can feel him lay his weight heavier on you the more you kiss him. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against your body. 

Jungkook’s lips detach from yours slowly, his thumb lightly pressing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. 

“I’m sorry,” he kisses you again slowly. It’s wet and soft, but you don’t mind. It’s him, and he feels right. “I guess we gave each other too many mixed signals.” 

You kiss him back, holding his chin between your index finger and thumb. 

“Are my signals clear now?” you ask him gently. 

“If you’re telling me that you want me…more than just friends,” he presses his nose against yours. “Then they’re clear as day.” 

You smile against his lips when he indulges on you again. Jungkook kisses you slowly and softly for another few minutes. It’s much different from the kissing you did a few minutes ago. This time, he’s gentle, and so are you. Your hands find purchase at the base of his scalp again, and you smile as he moans at the feeling. This is a whole new learning curve for you, and you’re finally going through lessons you’ve restricted yourself from accessing for a very long time. It feels so good. It feels amazing to have him in your arms like this. 

But still, somehow there’s something missing. There’s a pit in your stomach, a wetness in between your thighs that begs you to rub up against him. And so you do, but you’re stopped with a firm hand on your hip from the man above you. You suddenly feel embarrassed again. 

"Y/n,” he pants against your lips. He looks down at your conjoined hips. A part of him feels embarrassed at the sight–he doesn’t think he’s been more hard in his life. But he respects you more than to indulge in his own fantasy right now. “You’re still a virgin,” he reminds you. 

“I know,” you exhale. “But I want you, Kook. I want you to be the one to take it.” 

“Y/n,” he coos, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think you should think about it. I’m not the most romantic person in bed. I also don’t think I’m cut out to be your first. I don’t deserve you like that.” 

“Don’t say that Jungkook,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “You say that as if I haven’t been imagining you in the same way that you imagine me. You say that as if I haven’t been waiting for 10 years to kiss you like this. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I think this moment is why I haven’t been able to indulge in sex with anyone else. I feel right with you.” 

You watch his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. He’s lazy with his decision on which to focus on right now. His heart is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know which feature of yours to honor first. 

“What are you doing to me,” he laughs at himself. You smile back at him, and he swears nothing has ever been more right than how it is at this moment. 

“Will you take me, Jungkook?” you ask him again, much softer this time. It sounds strange coming from your mouth. You’ve never asked anyone to do that for you. The only person you’ve wanted, or have imagined, taking it away from you has been Jungkook. And here he is above you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your words send all the blood straight to his cock, as if it didn’t have enough blood in it already. “If that’s what you want.” 

“It’s what I want,” you confirm with him. “I want you.” 

“God, I want you, too,” he says, kissing you passionately yet again. This time, he scoops you into his arms, sitting you up on his lap. You straddle him perfectly, your thighs hugging his, and your core pressed temptingly against his own. 

Jungkook moans at the feeling, his hands finding purchase on your hips before slowly grinding them against his own. 

Your hands fall from his jaw to his shoulder, the feeling of his clothed dick against your pussy is much more shocking than you thought it would be. Never in a million years did you think such a strange action would feel so good. 

“Kook,” you whine against his lips. 

He breathes lightly against yours, trying to keep his composure as you make yourself feel good on his thighs. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently. His hands remain on your hips until you nod, giving him permission to explore your body in whichever way he would like to first. 

He watches your face as he slides his hands up to your waist. His fingers make their way under your silk pajama shirt, causing you to jolt at the feeling of his skin against yours. It puts a desire in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You’ve never wanted to explore anyone else like this. 

“C-Can I touch you?” You ask him this time. 

Jungkook laughs a little at you asking for his permission. In a way, he’s not really used to that. He finds it endearing that even though he’s fucked a lot of girls in his lifetime, the fact doesn’t take away that he’s still worthy of asking something like that to you. The other part of him laughs as if he’d ever say no to you. 

“Please,” he gives you permission. 

With that, you look at the fabric of his shirt leaning against his collarbone. His typical black shirt covers just enough to make you curious. 

But your eyes move to your own hands, which are delicately mimicking his actions, except they start by pushing up his shirt from the bottom. Your fingertips feel his abs underneath them. They’re defined, and you hate to admit that they make you really nervous. 

Your eyes flick to his, and they read your mind like a book. 

With one motion, he takes his hands off your waist and pulls his shirt off, revealing all his glory to you in one quick second. 

You take a deep breath, and he chuckles a little. But his laughs stop the minute you touch him again. They slide up his abs, your fingertips feeling his honey skin underneath you. They slide to his arm, covered in ink. They’re a perfect representation of him, and you haven’t told him enough how much you love them. They’re passionate and edgy, handsome and strong, but gentle and honest all at the same time. 

You almost get lost in his ink when he slides his fingers further up your shirt. 

Your breath stops in your throat when he grazes his fingers on the underside of your boob. You’re not wearing a bra, and the fact only excites Jungkook more. 

But he wants to be patient with you, even though he knows that the two of you want this so badly. 

“Can I?” he asks again. 

“Yes,” you give him permission in a whisper. 

With that, he slides the silk fabric up and over your shoulder, his breath stopping in his throat when he sees you. 

“Fuck Y/n,” he breathes out. He looks to you for permission again to touch you, and you nod with a small smile on your face. 

Jungkook gently cups the underside of your breasts, his body leaning forward as he does so. His lips wrap around your nipple and you gasp when he twirls his tongue around your sensitive bud. 

The sensation prompts you to press your hips deeper against his, eliciting the sweetest sound from his throat. His black jeans frustrate him, the barrier is too thick between you and him. 

He sucks on you harder before popping off and transferring his torture to your other nipple. Your pussy feels like it’s almost gushing arousal from his mouth alone. A raspy moan leaves your mouth as he gently bites on your bud, prompting you to tug at his hair. 

“K-Kook,” you moan. “Please,” you beg. 

Jungkook pops off your nipple, his mouth trailing kisses up to your neck. His hands slide up your back, holding you close against his chest as he kisses and sucks on the sweetest parts of your neck. You know he’s learning you, and you’re 100% willing to let him continue. 

“I want you inside of me,” you pant against his ear. “Please, Kook. I want you.” 

Jungkook pulls away, resting his hands on your waist again. 

He looks at you with more seriousness now, although his lips are red and swollen and his skin is starting to shimmer with the slightest bit of sweat. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you again.

“Yes,” you hold his cheek. 

“Okay,” he smiles. 

With that, he stands up with you wrapped around his waist. You know where you’re going, and you giggle against his neck at the fact that this is reality. You’re in his arms, your skin against his, and he’s on his way to make you feel closer to him than you ever have before. This is the only man that you’d let do this to you, you’ve realized. And the relief that it is finally happening makes you giddy and so so happy on the inside. You can’t help but hold him closer. 

Jungkook gently lays you on his sheets. They smell like him, and you feel warm inside when he tops off the scent with himself hovering over you. 

“Have you…you know,” he gulps. “Used anything before?” 

“Like a dildo?” you clarify. 

“Yeah,” he kisses your neck again. He’s completely overwhelmed with you. He can’t stop kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop anytime soon. The urge to mark you as his own–to show every man that you belong to him–is so strong. He can’t help being so proud that this has finally happened. That you’re with him, and that this is the start of something new between the two of you. 

“Other than my fingers,” you sigh. “No, not really.” 

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, uncomfortably fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. What you said made his dick hurt with arousal. His jeans are too tight on him now, and he wants to feel all of your skin against his. 

You watch him take off his jeans, feeling overwhelmed by the look of his cock springing free underneath his gray Calvin’s. 

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes for the change in pace. “They were getting tight.” 

“I can see why,” you exhale. 

You feel taken aback by Jungkook’s size. It’s still clothed by his boxers, and he already looks like he’s going to rip you open. No wonder he is in such high demand. 

“I’ll prep you,” he promises. “N’ go slow.” 

You watch him give himself a few pumps over his boxers, closing his eyes from the feeling of releasing a little bit of tension. He smiles when his eyes land on your face, your eyes completely fixated on his dick. 

“Something caught your eye?” he laughs at the expression on your face. 

“Shut up,” you smile. 

Your breath stills when he hooks his fingers around the rim of your pants, asking your eyes for permission before he continues. You allow him, and soon you’re left in just a pair of boy shorts with a huge stain soaking at your core. The sight has Jungkook immediately leaning himself on his elbows against the mattress to get a better look. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his hands on the underside of your thigh. He pushes your legs up, examining you for the first time. “You’re soaked, Y/n.” 

“S-Shut up,” you shy. “Do something already.” 

Jungkook laughs at your embarrassment, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding it up and off your body. 

“As you wish,” he whispers against your core. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth gently envelopes your clit. He sucks on it as you squirm beneath him, the intensity of his pleasure feeling like it’s going to be a lot to handle. 

You slide your fingers into his hair when he plays at your entrance. It’s so wet, and he can’t control himself from sliding his finger in, knuckles deep, as you moan from his actions. 

Your responses only fuel his fire, causing him to lap you up even more, to slip another finger in and curl it up into your g-spot. He can feel you tense, and he knows you’re close. He wants you to get there, but you stop him before he has the chance to. 

“Want you, Kook,” you whine. “I wanna cum with you.” 

“You wanna cum with me?” he restated your statement as a question. 

You nod feverishly against his pillows, your eyes coming to lock with his. 

“I want you inside of me when you make me feel good,” you explain. “That’s how I want it.” 

Jungkook gulps. Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard. 

“If that’s how you want it,” he smiles. 

With a swift motion, he gets up to take off his boxers, his dick slapping against his abdomen as he does so. 

It's almost comical how quickly he reaches for a condom in his nightstand drawer, slipping it on while his eyes stay right on yours. They tell you he’s been longing for you for so long. That this moment was one that he always dreamt of, but never thought would become a reality. You can only hope that yours convey the same. 

Jungkook hovers over you again, his tip lining up with your entrance. 

“Are you sure you want this? I can stop right now if you want me to,” he asks you again. There’s a worry in his eyes, as if he doesn’t think he’s the right one to take this from you. 

“I want you, Koo. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Please take me,” you plea. 

You watch that man above you gulp before he kisses the tip of your nose. He rests his elbows on the sides of your head, trapping you underneath him. With a kiss, you feel the burn of being stretched suddenly flood your system. He pushes in slowly, your back arching into him as he struggles to find a normal breathing pace. 

It hurts, but he goes slow. He’s aware of your discomfort, and he wants you to say something before he continues. 

“S’ this okay?” he asks you. 

When you look down, you realize he’s only half way, and your head tilts back against sheets. He’s so big, you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Mmhm,” you grip his shoulders. “You can move, Kook.” 

Jungkook pulls out, and then goes back in quicker and deeper this time. The feeling causes you to dig your nails into the skin of his back, the pain and pleasure bringing you to a high you’ve never felt before. 

“Ahh- Y/n,” Jungkook moans on top of you. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he keeps a steady and slow pace. “You feel so good,” he pants against your skin. 

“F-Faster, Kook,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Mm,” he hums, happily obliging to your request. 

Jungkook speeds up the pace, his hips slapping against yours lewdly. There's so much liquid shared between the two of you, but neither of you care. It feels too good to stop. 

“M’ feel good, baby?” He asks you, hovering his lips above yours. “This what you wanted?” 

“Y-Yes,” you cry, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the name he called you.

Jungkook suddenly takes your hips in his hands firmly. Sitting on the back of his heels, his body towers over you before ramming his hips into yours again. The action causes you to tilt your head back, feeling fuller than you were just a minute ago in this new position. 

“Yeah?” He licks his lips. His face looks demonic–like an actual sex demon is on top of you right now. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by this fat cock so bad, didn’t you, hm?” 

Jungkooks fingers grip your hips tighter, slamming them against his own even harder than he did before. You can feel him against your cervix, hitting your g-spot with every exit and entrance of his cock in your pussy. 

“Wanted you so bad, Koo,” you cry. 

You feel your toes start to curl, and a part of you feels scared that you might cum too quickly. You want this to last longer. 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip. Hearing you say that makes his head go fuzzy. The girl he’s wanted for so long, the girl he thought he could never have, is finally his. And he’s a part of something that is so special to you, he feels honored and overwhelmed all at the same time. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my dick?” 

“K-Kook,” you whine. “S-Say you wanted me, too. S-Say–” 

“Fuck, Y/n, I wanted you so bad,” he grunts at the thought. He feels angry for the time he’s lost due to thinking one thing when it was actually the other. He could have been with you like this every night. He could have been loving you and holding your hand, and kissing you all day long had he just grown a pair and done it earlier. He should have kissed you at graduation all that time ago. Or maybe even earlier at prom. He’s wanted you all along. And thinking about how he felt when you got together with Taehyung and Soobin made him feel a jealousy he’s never felt before. He can only imagine what he’s done to you. The fact that he had someone new every night to talk to you about makes his heart hurt with the fact that telling you those things might have shattered your heart into dust just as you dating someone else did to his own. 

“I wanted you then, and I want you now, and I want you after,” he continues. “I don’t want to let you go ever again.” 

Your back arches from his words, your neck falling back from the pleasure and the pain all at once. 

“Koo,” you grab onto his wrist. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip again. His hair falls in front of his face as he watches your breasts move with his dick inside of you. “Cum for me baby, I’m not that far behind.” 

Jungkook falls on top of you again. But this time, he brings your legs up over his shoulders, pushing into you even further than before. You’re starting to think he has an endless cock. Every new position he puts you in, you feel another inch inside of you. 

You feel a white heat wash over you, and somehow you see stars as he continuously moves his dick in you harshly. 

“A-Ahh,” you hear him moan. “You’re so tight–m’ gonna cum,” he tells you against your ear. “S’ that–that alright?” 

He holds out until you let him, nodding into his cheek, too blissed out from your orgasm to form a worded response. 

His thrusts get sloppy after you give him permission. The last few of them are hard and deep before you feel his dick pulse inside of you. A stream of sweet moans and your name falls from his lips as he releases inside of you. Out of all the music in the world, this is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. 

After a few moments to catch a breath, he pulls out, not wanting any of his cum to leak out of the condom as he begins to soften from his post-sex glory. Jungkook kisses you gently, moving your hair off your sweaty face. He kisses your cheek and your forehead before tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” he asks you gently. 

You laugh at his question. Hell, you were more than okay. Your best friend, first love, and current love, just took your virginity. Although you know you have a lot to experience in the sexual world, you whole-heartedly believe that it cannot get any better than this. 

“Yes, are you?” you ask him back. 

Jungkook laughs in the same way that you laughed at him. 

“Is it safe to say that you’re my girlfriend now?” he asks. 

“Only if the feeling is mutual.” 

-----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts, 2023 ]

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[rapunzelbro]

Imagine Lucifer and Adam fighting over you

I would like to start off by saying sorry in advance. I have no clue about religion, if purgatory is the right term or if I’m understanding this correctly. This was what term showed when I asked in between hell and heaven. If I am not accurate please please correct me. Request: would u do a adam x reader x lucifer where basically there fighting over the reader to try and win them over to be in hell or heaven

Master list Tag request

When you died you never thought you’d end up in fucking purgatory of all things

You did you not want to deal with any of that shit? You just died and now this?

You had the option to follow through on correcting your small sins you had left, or honestly say fuck it and go live your life in hell.

You couldn’t give one less of a fuck but two specific people did and it confused the fuck out of you

Lucifer and Adam

Adam was the first to meet you since you were technically one step in the door but also at the same time not. You appeared at his doorstep practically

He explained a lot of what happened, and why you couldn’t exactly stay in heaven or hell.

He shared the remaining sins that remained for you, and how to get them forgiven,

Bud actually was willing to help someone for once?

Wtf did you do get him to help someone who is not himself? Holy shit

You only had a 4 or so left by the time you found the Hazbin hotel..

Now Lucifer was intrigued by your situation. Not many people got to that state, to his knowledge

He knew a lot about you already to begin with he totally didn’t stalk you and was pissed about the time you spent with Adam

Found out you ended up at the Hazbin hotel, since you had no real space to stay since you could go to heaven if you pleased, but not looked well upon

Charlie told him about the whole situation to try and get his advice on it all since she really didn’t know how to go about it but she desperately wanted to help you

He didn’t want to help you with your final sins though, he wanted you to stay for himself. He would never let his daughter know that.

He spent time with you often encouraging your ass to do stuff that sinners would do but you’re just so stuck on what to do so you often don’t do the things.

Lucifer and you bonded more than you and Adam

Dude just told you constantly about how horrible it sucks down there in hell

Annoyed you even more since he didn’t let you stay in heaven after saying that?

But oh yeah it’s fine because he goes down to see you🥰

What the fuck man

If you ever needed a place to stay Lucifer was always there. Even if you didn’t feel like staying at the hotel

If wanted to talk about the shit you have left to do to get into heaven he will listen

While he didn’t agree with your initial decision to finish your sins, that doesn’t mean he didn’t still care about you regardless of what you end up doing

When you got to your final sin to pass through the gates of heaven, that’s when Lucifer stepped in

“What the actual FUCK are you doing here sinner?”

“Bitch you know why I’m here”

Lucifer and then arguing over your ass while you’re just there chilling like wtf?

“Y/n do you really want to be stuck up there with this douchebag”

“Do you really wanna be with The Most Hated Being in All of Creation!”

Those two screaming at each other while you are just watching the two trying to debate on what you should do

The people of heaven who knew of you, didn’t like you in the slightest because you were never going to be a true angel in their eyes

The people in Hell couldn’t give one less fuck about your situation. You had so many friends down there who you considered practically family now.

Both giving you the most desperate looks both wanting you to go with them

“Lucifer.. I’m going with you”

The second you say that your appearance goes from the weird hybrid you were stuck in to being a full blown demon.

Adam is fucking crushed and pissed sending you two the fuck out insantly

Lucifer is so happy

“Wow you must be a mega turnoff since even all girls like what have to offer more than you~”

Gladly takes you back to his place, he has yet to explain to Charlie that you gave up on redemption.

He doesn’t want to break it to her but knows he will have to soon

But for now you picked him over that bitch and that’s honestly worth it.

Lucifer/All Taglist: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @katshyperfixations

@aphestina @satansmanager @irethepotato @mixplara

#hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin charlie #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #hazbin x you

[writingsbychlo]

when you hold me | azriel

summary; azriel doesn't realise quite how touch-starved he is until he finally gets a little bit of affection, and he loves it. word count; 17,202 notes; this is in bullet form. it is insanely long. I have no excuses.

so here’s the thing, azriel's love language is touch, okay?

he’s touch-starved and a physically affectionate person, but he got so used to being cast out that he really repressed that side of himself.

even when he didn’t have to anymore, he had a reputation to uphold, by then.

he's the shadowsinger. the spy. the illyrian brute. the night court terror. silent but deadly. moody and quiet. darkness personified.

not really someone who cuddles, y’know?

now, luckily for him, cassian and rhys have different reputations, and they’re both quite physically loving too, so he doesn’t have to let his need for physical attention show.

cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.

so he really doesn't struggle to get affection there, he can pout and roll his eyes and frown as much as he wants, but he secretly loves it, and cassian secretly knows it.

all the hair ruffling, arms around shoulders that turn into a headlock, and dramatic leaning/falling into az that cassian does? az eats that shit up. loves it.

rhysand also does a lot of touching. he isn't so much an affectionate toucher; he just does it without realising.

a lot of pats on the shoulders, hugs, gently bumping him with a hand, elbow, or hip to get past, rhysand does a lot of general touches, but az loves that too.

mor has absolutely no sense of personal space, like none whatsoever. she plays with his hair when she thinks it needs styling better, and often lays down with her head in his lap when they have deeper chats, and she dances with him on nights out. if he's ever in urgent need of a little physical affection, he finds mor, because she'll just start touching him as soon as she sees him.

with nesta and elain, he often offers to fly them around, or 'winnow' them where they need to go, because they'll always hold onto him, even just for a few seconds.

going out with feyre means she always stays close to his side. if they go shopping, she links arms with him, grabs his wrist to drag him along when she sees something she likes, and often gets herself so tired out that by the end of the day, she is practically falling asleep on him as they walk home.

he realised that if he offers to sit and pose for her paintings, she'll mess with him and rearrange him until he's sat how she wants.

he purposefully never learned how to do his own tie so someone else would do it ("my hands are too big for fiddly little knots, alright?")

he often asks cass to help him do up the seals on the back of his leathers ("hurts my shoulder trying to reach round and do up the clasps on these damn things.")

he likes teaching people to train because they rely on him for form corrections, and he likes sparring with rhys and cass because that means a lot of wrestling and pushing and he can have fun with it.

basically, azriel takes any fucking scrap of physical affection he can get, in any way.

and then you step into his life.

it's a cold evening in the middle of the winter, and azriel is pouting a little on the couch, because nobody has touched him all day.

in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.

nesta no longer needs him to fly her around, she has cassian wrapped around her finger.

mor spends most of her time with emerie, whom azriel actually rather likes, which is worse, because he can't even hate her.

elain has been spending most of her time travelling with lucien, and never needs him anymore.

feyre and rhys spend most of their time with nyx now, which he cannot begrudge them for.

and amren was never particularly touchy, he found solace in not feeling like the only lonely one, but now she has varian, and he hates how bitter his jealousy tastes when he sees how affectionate she truly is.

and he doesn't have anyone.

everyone is chatting, and drinking, and the door opens, and in come lucien and elain.

hand in hand, noses and cheeks red from the cold, and hair a little messy from the wind outside.

behind them is you.

azriel almost feels stupid for the way his heart jumps a little when he sees you, he meets new people every day, he's not supposed to be shy he's supposed to be scary, but he can't help it.

you have the same cold-bitten and wind-ruffled look, and yet, unlike the joy on the other two's faces, you're nervous. terribly so.

his ears feel like they're ringing as he watches elain and lucien get comfortable, your hands still stuck into your pockets and your gaze flickering over the room.

your eyes meet his for a second, just a single second, and you smile, but it's so stunning it stops him from being able to reciprocate it until you've moved on, scanning everyone else before fixing your gaze back on the redhead you arrived with.

he's introducing you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into his side, and you chuckle a little as he does.

azriel's skin prickles a little with jealousy. why is it so easy for everyone else to get affection but him? he feels pathetic for even thinking this way.

(Y/N). friend from the autumn court. best friend. the girl who taught him how to heal. sticking around for a while.

he was still processing these words when lucien pushed you forward a little with a hand on your back, your scowl as you stumble, earning a chuckle from everyone else, and a friendly knuckle to the cheek from lucien. 

azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.

you go around, you're shaking hands and saying hello, and chatting to everyone, and just before you get to him, elain draws you into a conversation with her sisters. his hand curls into a fist, and he feels like a fucking child all over again.

is he really this worked up over a handshake? a handshake he didn't even get?

phantom feelings of sharp stone under his knees and the whistle of wind between cracks in the cell walls revisit him, when he'd long for the days the healer would come when he was a child to patch up his injuries, because at least the kind old woman who'd tended to him would pat his hair and wipe his cheeks when he cried.

his shadows swirl violently once, twice, as he thinks about it, and he stands before anyone can notice, chugging what's left of his drink and moving to the kitchen to make another.

he's leaning against the counter, staring into his own reflection in the whiskey when you knock at the doorway, forcing him to look up. he settles his usual stone mask over his face, instinct by now, and he raises a brow to prompt you.

"hello. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I was worried you'd leave before I could. I'm (Y/N)."

"indeed, I heard." really? that's the best he could come up with? but the kitchen has started to smell faintly like cinnamon and burnt sugar, and his nose scrunches a little at the overly sweet smell, he's not used to anything like it. it makes it hard to think, it's almost dizzying.

you pause on the other side of the island, a small smile coming to your lips, before daring to take another two steps closer, hand stretching out to him. "I'll be sticking around for a while, the high lord thinks you could all use a permanent healer, something about rough play while you're training," the words bring a touch of a smirk to his lips, and your own smile widens when it does. "and I meet the criteria, apparently."

he huffs a bit of a laugh, slipping his own hand into yours, and every buzzing in his ears goes blissfully quiet, every firing nerve settles, and the smile he'd forced becomes genuine when your hand squeezes around his. you shake once, pulling back all too quickly, and he misses the feeling of touch instantly.

"now, elain says you don't like to be touched," wait, no- “so, if you ever want to get together sometime, we can talk about what you’re comfortable with, where your boundaries lie, that sort of thing…”

your words were tapering off, and he realised perhaps he should say something, or do something, or simply react, in any way at all, but he couldn't. because it was just so gut-wrenchingly sweet of you, and he hated it. he didn’t want boundaries. fuck them. destroy them. cross them all. he didn’t care.

he didn’t say that. instead, what he said was, “uh, sure. I’m pretty busy, but I’m sure we could work something out.”

you only nodded, lingering a second longer, and the tension between you both felt like it was stretching on for ages. you were so close, so close, and azriel clenched his hands by his sides once again, trying to fight the telling frown on his face, and the urge to reach out. your hair looked so soft, he’d bet it was, bet it smelled even more sugary, a smell he was rapidly getting used to, and-

and you were walking away, a small smile on your lips, and something deep and unusual within his chest flared a little with panic, and- “wait-”

was that him? azriel really wasn’t sure, he didn’t remember even thinking about making a noise, it just happened, and then- then you turned around, smile still there, a little more genuine this time. 

you raised an eyebrow at him this time, prompting him silently the way he had you. he liked it. he smiled back, just a touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“you haven’t done anything to be sorry for, azriel.”

“I’m being rude.” you didn’t respond, and he sighed a little, shoulders relaxing fractionally from the rigid tensing that was beginning to ache a little. “I just have… a lot on my mind. my apologies, for my behaviour. I appreciate your offer.”

“well, physical healer I may be, but mental health is just as important to me. if you ever want to talk, I make a good listener. and, semi-reasonable advice giver.”

he chuckled, a soft sound that he didn’t often make, but merely the way you seemed to perk up a little at his amusement made him want to spend the rest of his life laughing. he didn’t know why.

“I’m not sure how much I can trust that advice, given you are optionally friends with lucien, who truly believes that toast tastes better when it’s a little burned.” 

“I didn’t choose him, he chose me. you share your last cookie with the sad little boy at the playground one time, and you get stuck with the seventh in line to the throne for the rest of your life.” there was a fond smile on your lips, and for just as second, azriel revelled in this moment of quiet amusement with you. 

then he remembered the same look of amusement on lucien’s face, when he’d had an arm wrapped around you, and playfully shoved you, and knocked your cheek. 

and just like that, all the warmth of your conversation was stripped away, a shocking cold like a bucket of water straight from the Sidra on Starfall night tipped over his head. it reminded him just how lonely he was.

“I’d best get going, but, if you come by training with cassian and I, tomorrow morning, I’ll show you around. I assume you’ll be staying at the house of wind?” his heart was beating erratically fast in his chest, one scarred hand smoothing over the spot as it did. he felt breathless, waiting to see whether you’d accept his offer, waiting to see whether you’d reject him. azriel couldn't remember the last time he’d been this nervous.

“I'd like that, very much.”

“until tomorrow, then.”

you murmured something in response, but his heart was beating too fast, his blood rushing too loudly in his ears to be able to make it out. he simply nodded, hoping it would suffice, and left. he must’ve drunk a lot more than he thought.

hours later, when he was laying cold in his bed, his shadows informed him of your arrival. giggling in a somewhat tipsy state, you’d arrived mere seconds before cassian and nesta had landed on the balcony, one hand gripped tightly around lucien’s as he winnowed you in, wobbling slightly in your steps. 

your friend had kissed your cheek goodbye, as had elain, even cassian had kissed your knuckles dramatically as nesta rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile of her own. 

his bed felt like laying on a slab of ice. alone. 

however, exactly one hour and twelve minutes into training, which was exactly thirty-eight minutes after azriel had officially given up on your arrival, you came. 

his shadows swirled excitedly, so much so that cassian stuttered a little in his movements as they began to block his sights unintentionally, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and burnt sugar reached his nose once again, flooding the room a moment before you walk in.

he’s distracted, which is ridiculous, he never gets distracted, and he would have chastised himself for it if the blunt side of cassian’s wooden practice sword didn’t do it for him.

azriel’s vision spotted for a second as the wood collided with the side of his skull, teeth rattling, and he hissed out a curse, glare as cold as winter night’s shot at his partner when he began to chuckle.

“something got you all wound up, brother?”

“bite me.”

“not even one whole day and you boys are already putting me to use, huh?”

there was just something about you this morning. azriel really couldn't place it, but you were wearing a smile that made something in his chest clench a little, and as though you could read his thoughts, your hand lifted, rubbing gently over your own chest, over your heart. 

“this? this is nothing to worry about, we’ve seen much, much worse.” 

you merely rolled your eyes, stepping towards them both and bringing yourself further into the room. you beckoned azriel forward, and he was moving before he even knew what he was doing.

cassian scoffed good-naturedly, turning away to practice his swings against a wooden dummy, and azriel sank down, sitting against the edge of the ring as you came to stand before him. he spread his legs a little, letting you get that little bit closer, and you took it.

he blamed his breathlessness on the intense training he’d just done, not the smell of you overwhelming him like sugary treats and starfall spices.

“really, it’s nothing to worry abou-” 

you raked your fingers softly through his damp hair, fingertips gently soothing along his scalp for bumps.

he choked, words dying in his throat on a pathetically breathy exhale that would have embarrassed him had azriel not been feeling pure ecstasy.

your other hand joined it, raking through his hair, pads of your fingers pressing and soothing along his scalp, and azriel’s world went dark. eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head and shoulders sagging a little as you examined for bumps. he almost wished cassian had hit him harder, just so you’d find something.

“is this okay?” your words were murmured, a soft breath for only him to hear, and azriel couldn't even form words;

“mhmm..”

nobody had ever touched him like this, run their fingers through his hair, and when your nails scratched lightly over his scalp before you pulled back, he barely bit back a whine, body feeling like melted butter.

you patted down his hair, he could only imagine the mess it had become, and it took more effort than most battles did for azriel to compose himself. to close the place where his bottom lip had parted from his top to near-pant, to open his eyes and hold them more than a sleepy half-lid, to straighten his shoulders and find some strength in his spine to sit properly. and most of all, to not reach out and beg you to do it again.

the sound of cassian’s grunt as he trained snapped him back into an awkwardly rigid position, jaw tensing a little. 

“no bumps or breaks, you’re good to go, shadowsinger.” 

“told you so.”

your eyes rolled again, in that gentle and fond way, and he hoped he would see it more. he liked making your eyes roll.

“next time, you need to defend your blind spots better.”

“are you giving me fighting advice?” once again, the smile he gave you was real. two within one day, you were making him break his mask at record speeds. it was concerning, if anything. that was what he chose to call it, anyway. 

“you think I don’t know how to fight?”

“I know you don’t know how to fight. I can tell.”

“you can tell? how?”

“you have no grip strength, when you shook my hand last night, no way you could pick up a sword, it would drop right out of your hands. you tripped over your feet on the way over here, and you have zero awareness of your own blindspots.”

you gaped at him, and he couldn't help himself. he lifted a hand, pointer knuckle tucking under your chin to close your dropped jaw, and you huffed at him. his knuckle dragged along your skin for a split second, before dropping away, and he made a fist on his thigh, restricting any more movement. he was being far too needy and indulgent of his desire to touch, lately.

“maybe I didn’t want to hurt you by gripping your hand with my superior grip strength.”

“uh-huh.” 

“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

“and how would you know anything about my blindspots?”

he shrugged, smirking a little at the tendrils of black curling over your shoulders, one of them wrapping neatly around the ends of your hair, pulling them silently off of your shoulders, into a ponytail you had no idea was being formed until the darkness tugged lightly. 

you gasped, the shadows skittering away like they were snickering at your shock, and azriel actually bit at the inside of his own cheek to contain his grin.

what was wrong with him lately? maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing there would be a healer around so much, perhaps he needed a check-up.

“alright, fine,” you had a look in your eye, one that he had absolutely no idea what it meant, and for the first time in his life, that confusion seemed to thrill him instead of terrifying him. “then teach me how to fight.”

“why on earth would you want to learn how to fight?”

“well, if I’m going to be out and about playing in the thick of it with you boys when you get yourselves all scratched up, it would probably be useful to know at least a little about defending myself.”

azriel hadn't thought about that. about all the danger he got himself into, about all the danger you’d be getting into. something cold settled in his chest, tight and gripping, making every breath feel a little rough. 

he choked that down, too.

“what would I get out of that deal?”

“I’ll heal up all these little injuries, the bothersome ones you always brush off.” he raised a brow, breath pausing in his throat as you reached for him, soft fingers wrapping around his wrist, bringing his clenched hand up. he’d been trying so hard not to touch you, but here you were, touching him.

unwrapping each finger carefully, you smoothed them out, his palm flexing and twitching a little at the featherlight touch you brushed over the scarred flesh.

“like this one, a little paper cut, on the tip of your finger.”

brushing your thumb over the pad lightly, he watched in awe as the tiniest fleck of glowing golden light shone from it for only a second, before the injury he’d made only this morning was gone.

it didn’t bother him, those kinds of wounds may as well not exist at all, that kind of pain was one he was so used to it was a sensation like breathing or walking at this point, but it didn’t matter. he’d take a thousand paper cuts of you’d hold him that softly and fix them that tenderly again and again.

you were offering him a deal, a lot of touches and attention, and he tried not to scream his agreement, and show his enthusiasm too much.

“how’d you know that was there?” he pulled his hand back, your own hovering for a second where you’d held his much larger one, before dropping to your side.

“I sensed it, when I touched you, looking for your head bump, I picked that up instead, it’s the only injury you’ve got. physical, anyway.”

a tense moment of silence followed your words at the implications of your final sentence. 

“you’ve got a deal. tomorrow morning we begin. but first, I believe I promised you a tour.”

he stood, putting a reasonable amount of distance between you both. he needed to remember who he was, he needed to remember who he was supposed to be. he couldn't afford to let his own weakness and desire pull at him anymore.

you took the hint, not getting nearly as close to him as you followed him around. 

azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.

for months, the need got worse and worse, the tugging in his chest, the empty loneliness, the phantom feelings of touches he didn’t have.

he expected his urges to touch to go down, blamed it on the cold and the winter, blamed it on all the changes taking place, blamed it on recovering from the war. azriel blamed it on everything he possibly could, hoping it would go away.

every time you trained with him and cassian in the mornings, every book exchange in the library, every weekly checkup that you’d forced them to start doing, it all tortured him, because he was now fixating on every little thing.

except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.

azriel found himself longing more and more for the touches that seemed to be getting less and less frequent. or, perhaps they weren’t, and he was simply needing them more, and he was noticing the lack of them. 

he had no idea why your arrival had sent him spiralling downhill, but he was struggling to patch up every crack that was beginning to break in his façade.

even his shadows were struggling, reaching out toward you in every room, searching all corners of it when you weren’t there.

everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.

he skipped a couple of training sessions, an excuse about needing to catch up on work, and you didn’t question it.

he took meals in his bedroom, or after he was sure you’d already eaten, just to avoid you at the table.

he hid every cut and wound, and for the first couple of weeks, you berated him playfully, joking that he should have come and found you to fix them. it took everything he had not to smile, to respond, to prolong these sessions where your fingers were skim gently over his skin, shimmering gold sealing up small cuts and all the bruises, fixing every ache.

after a while, you just stopped. every near-silent check-up or barely-friendly greeting when you saw one another making something cold fill his chest.

but at least that sharp coldness within him was better than feeling completely empty.

it had been almost a full year when your first chance to truly go away with them arose. the air was cold enough that your breath clouded in the sky, snow was sticking to the ground, and there was a permanent layer of ice settled over the top of the Sidra.

it should have been easy, and yet everything that could have gone wrong, did.

the meagre forces of you, himself, cassian and nesta hadn't been nearly enough. 

you were terrified, azriel was in and out of consciousness, being half-dragged along through the snowstorm by cassian, who winced every time he put their joint weight on his right foot, and nesta was clutching at her side. 

there was blood clotted into your hair from a cut along your forehead, a bruise blossoming on your ribs and you were sure an arrow had caught you across your thigh, but it was so cold, you could barely feel any part of your body anymore.

flying out wasn’t an option, your only teammate who could winnow had been out-cold for nearly an hour, and the inn had been a blessed relief when it had finally come into view.

the patron hadn't even flinched when the four of you had stumbled up to the counter and demanded three rooms, blood dripping onto the floor between you all, snow and mud trekked up the stairs with keys clutched in hand.

“cass, start a fire, nesta, go get as many bowls of snow as you can.”

they did as told, and you began to peel back the layers of protective leather and armour azriel wore, laying haphazardly on the bed where cassian had left him as they scurried. 

blood was smeared across skin that had gone pale, and bile rose in the back of your throat as you took in the wounds before you. they were like nothing you’d ever seen. 

stripping off the top layer of his leathers, they made a sickeningly wet sound as they hit the wooden floorboards, blood spilling out around your feet in a puddle, soaking into the bedsheets that would never be truly clean again.

cassian hissed as he returned.

nesta’s hands shook as she began placing bowls of snow into the fire to heat.

neither could stomach staying as you began to stitch up the wounds.

over six hours later, azriel was healed and you’d seen to nesta’s cracked ribs, your attention moving to the final warrior who needed help, and ignoring the painful drag of every footstep you took to follow him.

cassian was laying a patched-up azriel onto the bed in the spare room, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth would crack.

“let me look at your ankle, cass.”

you sunk down onto the edge of the bed patting the space next to you once his arms were free of his friend, and he shook his head.

“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

“let me look.”

“no.”

“cassian, let me look at your ankle, gods dammit!”

silence filled the room around you both, and for a second you worried your yell would wake nesta, sleeping only on the other side of the wall.

he set himself down, lifting his leg up, and placing his ankle into your lap.

swollen shades of yellow and purple and blue, his ankle had swollen up so wide it was almost the thickness of the rest of his leg, and when you pressed it, his entire body trembled.

“s’gonna hurt a little bit, but only for a second.”

“what about you?”

“what about me?” you mumbled, fingers smoothing over his skin, a soft glow emitting from your hands as you worked.

cassian groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you began to repair the damage.

“I can tell you’re spent. I came to check on you, when you were healing az. you didn’t look so good. does rhysand know what healing does to you? does lucien? does anyone?”

your motions paused, only for a split second, before you were soothing over his skin, hands tightening around him as the swelling began to go down.

“they know. it’s just, I’ve never had to heal something this big before, he was practically dead. but, I’m fine. really. keeping him alive long enough to get here took a lot out of me, but it’s over now.”

‘fine’ was the best you could do. ‘fine’ was a grievous exaggeration, but cassian didn’t need to know that. 

your head was pounding so hard you saw spots, your hands were shaking so violently that when they were no longer on cassian’s leg, you sat on them to hide the tremor. you’d sat down to heal cassian’s ankle because you’d nearly collapsed trying to follow him in here, legs giving way underneath you.

“you’re all done.”

he stood, testing his weight on his foot, letting out the same huff of amusement he always did when you healed him up so fast, no matter how many times you’d done it.

“where are you going to sleep? not in the other room, I suspect.”

your nose wrinkled up, the metallic smell of azriel’s blood was still so heavy you were surprised it wasn’t leaking through the walls, the fire in that room still burning from the ruined sheets you’d tossed in to dispose of.

something, something had lurched while you’d been tending to him as cassian and nesta fussed, and the idea of going back into a room where you’d fought just to keep him alive made your head spin.

“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on azriel. if he makes it through the night, he’ll be fine.”

the truth was, you were nowhere near done. just because you’d stabilised azriel didn’t mean your job was over. it just took a little pressure off the clock. his skin was still too clammy, a fever fighting high, his heart rate was too weak and his skin still too pale. he was a long, long way from mended.

cassian looked dubious, sleep was crawling at the edge of his consciousness, you could tell from the way he swayed on where he stood, shoulders hunched and eyes drooping. 

“besides, we’re safer in pairs. go and be with nesta, I’ll be here, we’ll meet up in the morning.”

he finally gave in, the mention of his mate making his head snap to look at the wall she lay on the other side of, like she’d tugged subconsciously to convince him to do as told. you wouldn't be surprised if she had.

the door closed behind him, and you were left in a cold, dark room, with only azriel’s rattling, wet breaths to let you know you weren’t alone.

you used what little strength you had left to make a fire, tugging the sheets out from underneath azriel and hanging them before the hearth to warm, before sealing them around his body. 

you stripped off what you could of your own bloody leathers, washing both sets with cold water in the empty dishes of snow you had left, before hanging those, too, up to warm and dry. 

settling in beside him, pain like you’d never known flared throughout your entire body as you called on your gift once again.

settling a hand on an unconscious azriel’s shoulder, your eyes closed, beginning to search through for every internal wound, stitching nerves and muscles back together one by one. 

you were sweating, but freezing cold, throat raw and eyes stinging but no tears left to give as you gasped for breath. 

you kept the fire going, his fever broke, and at some point during the night, azriel began to regain his strength.

he never woke, but you weren't aware you had dozed off yourself beside him until you were startled back awake.

he had rolled over, shuffled weakly across the bed until one arm had slung its way over your waist, cheek pressing into your shoulder, the cool tip of his nose was pressed into your neck. 

he was still cold, no matter how many times you restocked the fire to keep it going, searching out for your body heat without realising it. 

you lay still for a while, to see if he would wake, but he didn’t.

instead, you fastened an arm around his shoulders, the other threading lightly into sweat-soaked hair, still damp from where you’d tried to clean him up, soothing him lightly. 

you used what strength you had left to make sure he stayed in a deep sleep, pain-free and unaware.

nesta was the one who woke you in the morning, looking a lot better than she had when going to sleep the night before, and you panicked a little as you stretched out to find yourself alone.

“good sleep, huh? I’ve been trying to wake you for five whole minutes.”

“where’s azriel? cassian?”

her eyes rolled, but you’d learned her tells, knowing all of it was in love, not hate. “they’re downstairs, paying extra for the ruined sheets and the rooms. storm cleared, we’re ready to go home, so get up and get dressed.”

you shifted, arms barely able to pull yourself up, and nesta’s eyes narrowed a little as you lay back down.

“can’t I have five more minutes? I was having a  good dream.”

“you can sleep in your own bed when we get out of this godawful inn and back to velaris.”

“fine, I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

she left, and five minutes was more like fifteen as you struggled to even stand up, never mind get dressed, and finally, make your way downstairs to meet them at the entry of the inn.

“‘bout time, I’m waiting on you to get home for a good meal.” 

“my apologies, queen nesta.” she grinned, and your gaze moved to the other two. cassian was studying you, gaze flicking to your hairline, and you lifted your fingers to touch the sensitive skin there, still raw, the cut you had forgone to patch up even last night. your sharp glare kept him silent about it.

“the flight shouldn’t take long, and the skies are nice and clear now. we’ll be back in time for lunch.” to emphasise his point, cassian’s stomach rumbled, loudly.

he took off first, shooting up into the sky with nesta and leaving you standing in tense silence with azriel.

“az, how are you feeling?”

“fine.” he almost growled the word out, and your brows furrowed.

he hated doing this to you, the look of hurt that had flickered across your face, but he had to. pushing people away, keeping them out, he was good at that, he was used to it, and it made everything easier. 

letting you in, it was far too painful, you would see every raw and damaged and broken part of him, and he wasn’t ready to face that.

when he’d woken up wrapped in your arms that morning, for a shocking second, azriel had felt at peace. for the very first time in his life, he had felt utterly content. like he didn’t regret anything, like he didn’t want anything to change, like he didn’t want a distraction. 

and it had terrified him so much that he thought he might be sick.

“you’re a sleep cuddler.” apparently so. you were trying so hard to lighten the mood, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into that, but he couldn't. he choked back the lump in his throat, gaze flickering to the sky for a second, avoiding your gaze.

“I trust that won’t happen again.”

you went unnaturally still, gaze turning sharp on him as you stared, and he still couldn't bring himself to meet your eye.

“that’s all you have to say? that’s it? I heal you up, I take care of you, an-”

“that is your job, is it not?”

the laugh you gave him was cold and harsh. it made him feel like his chest was closing up, freezing over from the inside out.

“right. yes. my job. well, we should get going, I’m rather tired.”

he’d pushed it too far, too far too far too far, his shadows were almost biting at him as they whipped around his body, chastising him for his behaviour, his tone, his every decision.

“(Y/N)-”

“message received, azriel, loud and clear. I want to go home now, please.”

look up look up look up, meet his eye now, he was ready, he wanted you to. you wouldn't. you stepped closer, allowing him to pick you up, before soaring into the sky.

it was one of the worst flights of his life, and tense few hours, the silence azriel normally revelled in felt like it was suffocating him. he could feel the warmth of your magic, even now, swirling around you both to block out the chill until you were landing on the balcony, only moments behind cassian and nesta.

the rest were lined up, waiting for your return, welcoming you back with hugs and shoulder pats, and a table full of food waiting.

hurt.

azriel felt it as his shadows reappeared, catching up to him as he tucked his wings into his back, letting you down slowly.

hurt.

who? his gaze flickered over everyone that was lined up, scanning his friends for injuries.

hurt. hurt. hurt.

you stumbled, knees buckling, and had you not been standing so close to him when you did, you’d have hit the floor before azriel had caught you.

his shadows swarmed around you, until you were barely visible to the rest, and you sank slowly to the ground, letting azriel help you.

hurthurthurthurth-

his shadows recoiled as the heir of day stepped forward, dropping harshly to his knees to cup your face. your skin had paled, your eyes fluttering more closed than open, and your lips were parted with shallow breaths.

“what happened?”

“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”

lucien smoothed a hand over your hair, letting you slump forward until your face was pressed against his shoulder, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt.

“you’re freezing, and you’re so shaky, why can’t you-” he paused, the hand petting your hair moving to rest over your forehead as he searched for something. “you burned out.”

“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”

“you’re not just-”

“lucien, please.”

he stared, waiting a second, before the air around you both folded, and the space at azriel’s feet was empty. his shadows exploded, a representation of his own panic, before feeding back to him a second later that lucien had laid you in your bed.

“what was that?”

“she did too much,” cassian mumbled, hands wringing in front of himself, and rhysand rubbed his brow.

“how bad was it?”

“bad.”

“what. happened?”

he was ignored as cassian shrugged at their high lord, unsure where to start.

“we got caught off-guard, more of them than we could possibly handle. ness got hit first, az covered her, but it was too much. he- it was bad. I’ve seen soldiers die from a lot less. he would have died. but she held him together. I don’t know how, she just did. enough to make it to an inn, she fixed us up. stayed up with az the whole time, I could hear her moving around all night. I knew she was drained but I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did, I would have.. I would have.. done something. I wouldn't have let her help me too, I would have-”

cassian cleared his throat, walking away with a nod and a promise to debrief rhysand later. nesta followed.

“you knew this would happen? you knew she could burn out, that it would be this bad? you knew, and-”

“I knew, because she told me. she acknowledged the risks, she made the decision. she chose to look after you, she chose her own actions. she looks after us, and now we will look after her.”

his tone was final, and azriel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

they left, one by one, they all left him on the balcony alone, to tend to the rest of their duties.

you’d pushed yourself to the brink for him, through agony and worse, and he couldn't even bring himself to crack open a little of the box inside his mind he worked so hard to keep sealed shut.

that was the moment azriel decided it was going to have or change.

you didn’t wake for two days. two full days azriel spent swimming in guilt and sadness, a feeling he couldn't place filling his every thought, making it hard to eat, or sleep, or even think.

he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.

two days, and on the evening of the third day, while everyone was sitting at the dinner table chatting, and azriel was emptily pushing perfectly good chicken and vegetables around his plate, you emerged.

“hello.” 

azriel felt like his heart started back up in his chest.

“can you spare a plate? I’m fucking starving.”

lucien laughed, his head dropping for a second as elain grinned, patting the seat next to her that had been empty for days, the one opposite him, that had been taunting him. 

slipping into it, cassian was quick to pile you up a plate, with more food than you could possibly eat, passing it along down the lines as you sunk into the chair next to him. 

accepting the food, you settled back into everything like nothing had been wrong, like you hadn't scared azriel half to death, like you hadn't left him feeling adrift, untethered, lost, and he needed to talk to you, needed to make it right-

his stomach rumbled, clenching almost painfully. finally, he thought. he was fucking starving.

he would talk to you after he’d eaten.

the first chance to approach you came when you were sitting out on the balcony, still a little pale, still a little shaky, with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared up at the sky.

he sat down next to you, silently, trying to find as much comfort in the stars as you had, but his thoughts were spinning too fast. in the darkness, he let his shadows free a little, let them crawl underneath your chair, over the back, around your feet where you couldn't see. 

“the skies never look quite like this in autumn. I like it here.” your words were steady and calm, nothing like his heart, and azriel twisted his head to look at you. you were not looking at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“you have nothing to be sorry for, azriel."

he felt like he was living everything over again, you were strangers once again, and that thought made every other one freeze inside of his head, a spotlight focus on that.

“please, don’t shut me out.”

you looked at him now, studying him like a journal, brows furrowing a little. 

“I never shut you out, azriel. you are the one who shut me out. you made it very clear that you didn’t want my touch, nor my friendship, nor even my company. it’s okay, I don’t expect everyone to always want my companionship, but next time, at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your life would be nice.”

“thank you.” the words tumbled from him like water spilling from the sky when a storm broke. “thank you, for all of it. for staying up to make sure I made it through the night, and for.. for caring.”

you help his gaze, nodding once. “you’re welcome.”

you looked back to the sky, ignorant to the shadows crawling higher and higher up, languidly, begging him to let them curl around you, still fearing for your wellbeing.

“I like to be touched,”

he spoke the words without breathing, without looking at you, still staring at the stars, even as he felt your attention move to him. it felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, but it was terrifying, a confession spoken now that he could never take back.

“I like to be touched. I love being touched, but it’s not who I am. I am not supposed to be.. soft. I’m supposed to be strong, and powerful, and it terrifies me that I can be so- that I need it. I love being touched, but I can’t ask. They can’t know. I can never tell them.”

you didn’t ask who they were, and you didn’t ask why. somehow, he knew that you just understood.

“you scare me. you scare me more than anything, because for all of my life I’ve been just fine, centuries suppressing this need and managing it all, and then one year ago you come along, and everything changed, and I don’t know why.” the more he spoke, the lighter he felt, some deep and suffocating binding was finally loosening within him.

“perhaps 500 years of pretending not to need attention, not to need love, has finally started to take its toll.”

you were right, he knew you were, but it was still a hard truth to swallow.

“you know, we all have our love languages.”

“our what?”

“love languages.” there was a soft smile on your face when he finally braved looking at you, and it made him feel secure, like his confessions were in safe hands, like for once, he didn’t have to carry every burden on his own. “there’s five.”

“five?”

“yes.” you twisted a little more toward him. “rhys and feyre, they’re the same. they just want to provide for the people they love. perhaps it’s why it’s so easy for them to love one another. both of their love languages are similar. rhys’.. his is gift giving. he shows you all his love through what he can give you, buy you. he houses you all, spoils you constantly, makes sure you are always provided for. he does it sneakily, like buying cassian’s favourite cookies or making sure there are always fresh flowers for elain.”

“what about feyre?”

“hers is acts of service. she spent years providing for her family, she went through hell for tamlin, and then through war for rhys. she was willing to give everything for them all, she continues to do so. elain, hers is quality time. when lucien began inviting her to the spring court, they used to do nothing but sit or walk in silence for hours in the gardens. or in the living room, when he’d read while she learned to knit.”

“what about nesta? she doesn’t fit any of those boxes.”

“no, she doesn’t.” whether you’d noticed them or not, you didn’t say, but azriel’s shadows were beginning to crawl up and over you, weaving around you in lazy swirls as you whispered quietly between yourselves, to the background noise of your friends in the house. “nesta’s love language is words of affirmation.”

he didn’t need to question it, that made perfect sense. 

“yours is touch. everyone has a love language, azriel, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. it’s simply who you are.”

somehow, you made him feel alright with something he’d spent 500 years hating about himself.

“what is yours?”

“technically, I don’t actually need to touch anyone, to heal them. I just have to be close enough to feel their energies.” he processed the words, heart skipping a beat a little at the meaning. you were the same as him. “just think about it all.”

you stood, taking the blanket from your shoulders and leaving it folded over the back of the chair you were leaving behind. 

as you walked past, you paused, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shadows rose, wrapping like bracelets around your wrist as you squeezed lightly. “if you can’t tell them yet, that's okay. but if you ever need someone, you can come and find me. you’re hurting, az, and it’s my job to keep you all in one piece. if holding you when you need it is something you want, then you know where to find me.”

he couldn't speak, only nod, because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out around the lump in his throat.

you left, leaving his head somehow both spinning and utterly empty. 

he waited, mulling over your words, whispering them to himself in the dark, until it became too cold to be comfortable, anymore. 

almost everyone had retired, only cassian, mor and amren still awake, drinking quietly in front of the fire, but he didn’t feel like joining them.

no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.

the clock read over two hours since you’d left him, you’d surely be asleep by now, and azriel tried to pretend like it wasn’t disappointment filling him. stop being needy.

he was making his way to his own bedroom, taking the long route, when he passed your door. light was still spilling out from underneath it, golden glow from the crack between it and the floor, and azriel felt like his feet were rooted to the ground. 

he could feel his heartbeat, right down to his fingers, and he clenched them into a fist to stop it. 

he knocked. he knocked, he didn’t know what possessed him to do so, and maybe it wasn’t too late to just leave, but then there you were;

standing before him, pretty nightgown and a cardigan, hair a little ruffed from the loose way you’d fastened it back, and you didn’t look at all surprised to see him.

“az. would you like to come in?”

“more than anything, actually.” he breathed the words weakly, no longer having any embarrassment left to give, and he stepped over the threshold, letting you close the door.

your fire was lit, logs crackling quietly, but he couldn't smell them, instead, he could smell the candle you had, winter spices and berries, a sweet combination, but not as sweet as your smell. your sheets were tossed askew, clearly having been used, and a book lay on the bed, page marked.

“can I..?”

you raised a brow, but he didn’t know exactly how to word what he wanted, he wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.

“do you want to lay with me while I read?”

“you mean, like we did that night?”

“if you want.”

he felt young again, no strain and stress on his shoulders, just bashful and a little shy, watching as you walked back to your bed, getting comfy once again. you patted the sheets, prompting him to move, and he did.

slowly, so slowly, azriel removed one boot at a time, placing them neatly in a pair at the end of your bed. then his belt, and his jacket, undoing every clasp and buckle slowly, until he was merely left in the comfortable trousers he’d worn to dinner, and his t-shirt.

one knee on the edge of the bed, and then the other, nervous but pushing on as azriel all but catapulted himself over a line he’d never considered crossing before. you lifted the blanket, welcoming him under, and he lay himself down slowly.

shuffling a little closer, he hesitated, close enough to feel every bit of warmth you gave off, but not touching a single part of you.

“I-.. I’m scared.”

“you don’t ever have to be scared with me, azriel. my job is to heal you, let me do that.” you spread your arms for him, and he gave in, the last shred of resistance obliterated. 

he collapsed down by your side, cheek pressing into your shoulder, nose brushing that spot, that spot on your neck that smelt so damn sweet, every bit of you. his front was pressed up along your side, the arm curled around his shoulder, fingers threading into his hair, and he didn’t realise how much he needed it until the sigh he let out shook.

and then his shoulders did.

his chest.

he didn’t realise he was crying until three or four breaths in.

he felt frozen, body locked up as he sobbed, unable to help himself, your fingers weaving through his hair, giving him privacy even as he lay atop you, reading quietly and flicking each page every so often. 

he cried until it felt like that well of emotion inside of him that he spent so long locking up no longer felt like it was about to overflow. it was manageable, truly kept in place, for once.

he dared to reach out, to hold you back like you held him, one arm over your waist, anchoring you down, making sure you were real, you weren’t going to leave. 

and you let him.

every breath he took tasted sweet on his tongue, like roasted marshmallows, and the last thing azriel truly remembered before everything went black was the feeling of your other arm reaching over, hand placed atop his scarred one on your stomach, squeezing lightly.

when azriel woke, he panicked. this wasn’t his bed, his room, and there was someone here, someone holding him, someone-

it all came back. he shifted, pulling his face from where it still lay on your shoulder, one limp hand woven into his hair, falling away when he looked up to you, still asleep. your breaths were even. as he pulled back some more, you shifted, following his warmth the way he had subconsciously done to you. it sparked something in his chest, heart pinching a little.

there was no way he could move now.

he lay back down, rolling onto his side, and pulling you softly back toward him. you went, sleepily, curling up against him. dawn had broken, he was supposed to be training, cassian would be there already, and yet not a single part of him was willing to move, not even his shadows, which were spilling like lazy waterfalls over the bedsheets surrounding you both, hardly any movement at all.

it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. euphoria.

when you woke, it was with a little jump, like you were caught off-guard as much as he was. 

you stretched somewhat, and azriel slackened the arm he’d been using to hold you close, but you didn’t pull away.

instead, you rolled over a little more onto your back, but shuffled close to him, using his arm like a pillow as you blinked to adjust to the morning sun.

“you stayed.”

“is that okay?”

“it was lovely. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

“I haven’t slept that well ever.”

azriel had hoped that by the morning, he’d have found some control over his filter again when he was around you. it would seem that hope was ill-founded.

you gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your heart, a teasing look in your eyes as you looked at him. “I am truly honoured. like a dreamcatcher, obviously, I’m just the very best cuddl-”

he rolled his eyes, and didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face. he’d exposed one of his deepest secrets to you, everything else felt so small now in comparison. he cut you off by squeezing you tightly, rolling his arm up behind your head and clamping a hand over your mouth.

eventually, the two of you had gotten up, and he’d parted ways with you at the bedroom door to change his clothes before meeting everyone for breakfast.

but, like a bucket of cold water, the high he’d been floating on came crashing down when he walked into the dining room. 

you were already sitting at the table, buttering a piece of toast as mor piled more onto your plate, insistent on getting three days worth of missed food into you as he sat down. 

“where exactly were you this morning, brother? you missed training entirely. the girls teamed up on me, do you know how unfair that was? three against one, azriel!”

he froze a little, halfway into his seat, eyes flicking to the warlords, before he sat properly.

“I was sleeping.”

“sleeping?”

“yes. you know, that thing where you close your eyes, and go unconscious for extended periods of time in order to-”

“shut up, you know what I meant.” he remained staring, like he was trying to work azriel out, and you chuckled at them both.

“cass, your mother hen is showing.” the man scoffed, turning his scrutiny to you instead, and azriel loosed a breath with appreciation. he wasn’t ready yet, to tell everyone else what he’d managed to tell you. he may never be ready, but he already felt lighter having let just one person in.

something bumped his ankle, and dropping his gaze down to below the table, he caught your foot reaching out, slippered toes kicking lightly at his ankle. he shifted forward in his seat, tucking himself underneath properly, and your fluffy foot wrapped around his ankle lightly.

his head spun. 

right here, in his everyday life, someone was touching azriel just for the sake of touching him. 

he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet, and you were accommodating him.

he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, and one day, he was sure it would all come crashing down, but at least for now, he decided he would just enjoy it.

and so, it continued just like that.

you would touch az any chance you got, subtle, enough to go undetected, but enough that everything inside of azriel was practically singing with joy, all times of the day. 

you’d place a hand on his shoulder when you stood beside him while he sat down, you’d link your foot with his when you sat at the table, you’d move him with your hands, this way or that way. you’d grab onto him, drag him around when he was late for his checkups because he got caught up in work. you’d poke him, and jab him when he teased you, and you’d pinch his cheeks until he swatted you away when you teased him back.

and most of all, you let him keep up his façade, rolling his eyes and huffing and pushing you away lightly, without ever pulling back from him.

more and more nights as it went on, he ended up in your bed at night, reading beside you quietly as his leg lay pressed up to yours, or your head slumped onto his shoulder when you got tired before he did.

it was months before azriel had the nerve to touch you in front of everyone without reason. 

he was frustrated. he was angry and worn out, and he’d been gone for days when he finally saw his family again. five days of poor sleep, lonely days, and exhausting work trying to gather information.

he wanted to be held, he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the lifestyle he’d become so used to already, in such a short amount of time.

you were there, sitting on one of the couches, spread out along it as everyone chatted, wine passed around. the volume hit zero as he hovered in the doorway for just a second. 

“az, you’re back! how was it?”

“shit.”

“did you get it done?”

“of course.”

“good. join us. do you want a drink?”

he swallowed, throat dry, only nodding instead. but, that wasn’t really what he wanted. he was frozen in spot, and everyone was staring at him now. silence. but he was staring at you.

you sat up a little further, blissed-out look passing from your face, your back straightened. your eyes passed over him, once, twice, before meeting his gaze again. 

“az, are you hurt?”

it felt like he had to force the word out, heart pounding in his ears as he considered every consequence of what he was about to do, every truth he was about to lay bare. he could pretend, he could say he was hurt, he knew you’d fake it for him. or, he could finally face the thing that terrified him.

he didn’t care, not anymore.

“no.”

at long last, his feet were moving again, and he strode across the room. kicking his boots off roughly and leaving them abandoned on the floor by the couch, next to wear your heels lay. you must have been out for drinks with mor and the others, everyone seeming a little dressed up.

he stripped off the leather jacket next, dropping it down onto the floor. 

he sank, ass hitting the cushions, twisting, until he could lay down, the back of his head landing softly on your thighs. 

he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see everyone's faces, he just wanted to feel you.

rhys cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had lasted well over ten-seconds already.

“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”

“whiskey, three fingers.”

“you got it.”

you threaded your fingers into his hair, and az let loose the rumble from his chest that he always had when you played with his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.

you shifted underneath him, stretching one leg out along the couch behind him, shifting so his head lay on your stomach instead, resting between your legs comfily. 

“so, it all went according to plan?” feyre was next, an overly high lilt to her voice, as rhys tinkered at the drinks cabinet in the corner.

“no, no, no, hang on. we’re all just going to avoid t- ow, nes!” a resounding thud cut him off, and azriel smirked as he heard cassian rubbing at what he assumed was the back of his head.

“everything went fine, just glad to be back. that’s all.”

“yeah, bet you are.” cassian grumbled, and your stomach shook under azriel’s head as you laughed.

rhys pat his shoulder, and he finally cracked his eyes back open, accepted the drink that was being offered. he took it, nodding a ‘thank you’, and his high lord’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at the pair of you.

sitting up, he tried to fight the warmth coming to his cheeks, the one reaction he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried, and he covered it by taking a long swig of the burnt amber liquid inside.

“we were just talking about cassian’s most embarrassing encounter at rita’s.”

“what?! no, we were not!”

“no, no, I distinctly remember that's the conversation we were having.” rhysand backed you up, winking at the change in topic of conversation, and feyre nodded her support. “wasn’t it around the 300 years mark, just after the summer solstice..” 

cassian’s face blanched, nesta perked up, as did elain and feyre, and both mor and rhys chuckled into their drinks.

his brother was now forced to retell this story for you four, and azriel felt a single claw tap three neat times at the inside of his mind. after a moment of hesitation, he let rhys in. let him see it. let him feel it, the way you made him feel.

his other brother only nodded, pulling back, smiling as he wrapped an arm around his mate, pulling her into his side to focus on the story.

for the first time ever, as azriel watched it and wished he had that too, he could act. he reached for you, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to his chest. you went willingly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled, thoroughly invested in cassian’s story. 

he ran his nose over the crown of your head, smiling into your hair when you relaxed even further into him. 

he’d never felt so settled.

that night, when you lay in bed, and he let himself into your room, the energy felt different.

he collapsed down beside you, flopping onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head and reaching an arm out across your waist as you chuckled. 

“big step you took tonight.”

“I was sick of everyone else getting what they wanted, and never taking what I want.”

“I’m proud of you.”

his eyes snapped open, finding you instantly, and he stared at you for a second, eyes narrowing, and you never flinched away.

“what?”

“I'm proud of you. you faced a fear you’ve held for, what, almost five centuries? you should be proud of yourself, too.”

he only nodded, discarding the pillow and moving over to you, no longer feeling even an inkling of nerves as he collapsed down onto your pillow with you, noses mere centimetres apart, legs tangling together as he searched for your touch, as he always did nowadays.

you lifted a hand, placing it on his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone delicately. “you deserve good things, az. let yourself ask for them, let yourself take them.”

he was rendered completely breathless, heart racing so fast it felt like it stopped, and all he could do was smile. 

in that moment, when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling as you pulled back to blow out the final candle lighting the room, he felt his heart actually stop. 

in that moment, azriel knew he was completely, totally and undeniably fucked. 

after that night, a line had been crossed.

he crossed it, he made the first move, edging forward into something entirely unknown. azriel was used to suppressing his feelings, he never confronted them. and yet, not, he was not only acknowledging them, he was acting on them, using them.

he woke up before you the following morning, as he always did, content to lie in once again, ignoring his training with cassian once again. cass was surely going to get sick of this, but he didn’t care.

you, however, had different plans. you woke moments after him, jerking awake with a sudden jump, one hand coming up to your head. 

you merely groaned, leaving his arms to sit up straight in bed, covers pooling around your lap and his.

“what’s wrong, angel?”

“I realised I’m late for- what?” a pink tinge touched your cheeks, and you turned, glancing at him over your shoulder. lips parted in a pretty way, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he lifted one arm, propping it behind his head and grinning like it hadn't been intentional. 

“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”

the colour on your cheeks deepened, and you swallowed, several times, before licking over your lower lip and dropping your gaze.

“cassian. uh, well, training. uhm, training, with cassian. I’m late. for it. for training with cassian.”

his smile stretched as you stumbled over your words when his gaze fixed on you, trailing slowly over you in the morning light.

azriel really was grateful for the blocks you were removing from his mind, every wall you took down allowed him to realise something new, and the wall you’d removed last night allowed him to truly witness just how beautiful you were. and just how affected he was by it.

you were breathtaking, messy hair and wide eyes, shrouded by the golden light of the morning, and wreathed in twisting shadows as they wrapped around you, weaving through your hair, tickling your cheeks, teasing you. 

he couldn't even begin to have imagined such a sight. ethereal. 

“well, then, you’d better get going.” he showed no signs of moving, pulling your covers back up his body somewhat, and you gaped at him. 

“you- you’re staying here? in my bed? you’re not- you’ve not got things to do?”

“I have nothing else to do, and I’m comfy. I’ll probably still be here when you get back.”

“I- uh, okay.”

“unless you’d rather me come to training? we could work on your takedowns.”

“wait, whats wrong with my takedowns? I took down nesta, and gwyn!"

“and until you can take down me and cass, I’m not secure in your safety.”

you huffed at him, but there was a playful smile on your face, telling him you weren’t really mad, and he reached out, placing a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. your gaze tracked the movement. 

“so, will you come?” he raised a brow at you, and you gasped a little at the innuendo he’d turned it into. “to training! will you come to training?”

“I suppose so.” he sat up, stretching his arms over his head, and his shadows told him of the way you bit your lower lip, gaze flicking over his chest and arms, before snapping away to stare pointedly at the door before he caught you. “I’ll go and put on my leathers. I’ll meet you there, angel.”

rolling from the bed and flexing out the numbness from his wings, he leaned back over, one hand on the mattress beside you, one on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and pulling back.

“see you soon.”

he was practically breathless by the time he reached the corridor, closing the door behind himself, shoes in hand. 

on the way to his own bedroom, he crossed rhysand, who was passing to his office, coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, and his brows shot up. “alright, brother?”

“more than alright.”

“want to tell me about it?”

“not yet.” 

“in that case, good luck.”

az grinned, continuing on his way through the house to prepare himself for training.

and just like that, azriel’s favourite new hobby began; teasing you. seeing just how much he could make you blush, how far he could go, whether you felt the same way.

lingering hands that slipped a little lower than needed when you trained, stares that he knew were more than suggestive, winks to accompany jokes that pressed well beyond that of friendship.

now that he had decided to be truthful with friends, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he wasn’t sure how he ever did.

azriel liked to sit next to you, bury his face in your neck or hair, keep you tugged in close to his side. his arm lived permanently over the back of whatever seat you were on, and he always sat next to you, tucking hair away behind your ears, rubbing your back gently when you got sleepy, and holding you close to his chest every night when you slept. 

he simply couldn't get enough. 

after a few weeks, you’d stopped blushing and being as shocked. you’d caught onto his little game, he suspected, because you had begun making a habit of teasing him back.

you would kiss every cut and scrape and wound that he got once you’d fixed him up, lips teasing over the bandages as he pouted about it falsely.

you’d started to make him work for it, to always find someway to squirm or shuffle, to tease him with the possibility of leaving just so he’d have to grip a little tighter.

you’d taken to playing with his hands, running a the pad of your index over each finger and around his palm, featherlight touches that made him twitch.

and he loved it. every second of it, he loved it.

whenever he could get his hands on you, your hands on him, any part of his body touching you.

and when you weren’t there, his family had gotten more affectionate too. 

cassian gave him a hug every single time he saw him, and it was almost the fifth hug before azriel stopped feeling the lump form in his throat.

rhys had taken to patting his back and shoulders every chance he got while feyre had taken to squeezing his hands and arms. mor would ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks. he loved all of that, too. 

but he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved your touch. 

and so, the morning when azriel finally lay the last piece of his soul bare to you had felt so utterly normal.

he’d been in your bed that night, his legs were still tangled with yours in the early morning golden sun, noses almost touching as you shared a pillow, and just whispered about everything. his hand was tucked under your shirt to run over your skin lightly as your fingers played with his hair. 

it had been utterly perfect.

he’d told you about his mother, and the childhood he’d been locked away, and the healer who would be his only form of touch for years as she fixed him up after his brothers or step-father hurt him. 

he let you into that final piece of himself, and you’d made it beautiful, just like the rest. 

and so, when he'd leaned forwards, catching your lips with his own in a delicate meeting, it had felt so right. not heart-racing, not anxiety-inducing, not new and terrifying and bold. no, it had felt like coming home. 

and that terrified him.

it terrified him more so when he felt his chest hum, felt his heart skip a beat and the snap that made his breath rush from him. he felt it, felt a bond form, felt the bond form. he was scared.

he could feel his heart speeding up, his thoughts spinning, every mind-stilling technique he’d mastered over the years seemed to go out the window and azriel felt himself gaping at you in shock.

you were frowning at him now, and he could vaguely feel the touch of your fingers slip down from his hair to sit on his cheek, thumb stroking over his face, and every swipe felt like fire over his skin as his nerves electrified.

“not exactly the reaction you want to a mate bond.”

you were smiling, joking, and the breath once again felt pressed from him. this time, every muscle locked up, he went so still he felt like even the blood in his veins had stopped moving.

“you knew?”

a whirlwind of emotions whipping through him; confusion, anger, sadness, frail grief even as he pulled away from your touch on his face. 

he pushed himself to sit up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and the sound of your sigh made irritation bubble within him as he processed it. 

rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed, goosebumps lining his bare chest, all the way down to the boxers shorts he’s stripped down to sleep in.

then, there was a burst of concern in his chest, dizzying and disorientating for a moment before he realised it wasn’t his. it was yours, from the bond.

he snapped up walls around it, much the same feeling as the walls in his mind with rhysand, and just like that, soothing cold like his shadows took over where hot love and concern had once been. 

he stood, trying not to take in the hurt on your face as he closed his end of the bond.

“az..”

he stumbled a little at the sound of his name on your tongue, feeling so much, positive and negative; love and betrayal, hurt and anger, comfort and sadness. it was a maddening concoction.

“you knew! you knew and you didn’t tell me! how could you, how could you do that to me?”

he reached for his leathers, tugging the pants up his legs and fastening them right over his shorts, grabbing for his t-shirt next.

you sat up now, crawling across the bed and tangled in the sheets before reaching a hand out to him. 

“azriel.”

he flinched away from your touch, and your outstretched hand faltering before falling to rest on your thigh instead as you sat back on your heels.

“no, no, no. I need to think, don’t touch me right now. I just.. I need some space.”

“you need to think.. about us? about the bond?”

“I have some things to think about!” he was almost ashamed of the outburst as he tugged on his shirt, not even fastening it behind his back, and grabbing his boots and jacket in hand. 

“right… okay, sure.” your voice cracked, and azriel was sure that would have killed him to hear had he not been swirling with so much anger already.

and then he was leaving, slamming your door behind himself and making the journey back to his room barefoot. he barely processed the walk, he barely remembered seeing lucien in the corridor or seeing feyre in the foyer.

the first time his head was clear once again was hours later, when he found himself in front of a punching bag.

he’d done as he always had, and resorted to mindlessly pounding out his emotions whenever it was too much. there were weapons scattered around himself, practice swords near the wood pillars and spare wrapping for his knuckles on the bench, and he reached a hand out to stop the bag from swinging. 

there were mixed smells in the air, mostly his own sweat, that of the valkyries too. they must have come to training, and he hadn't even noticed. he’d been so caught up, so totally lost in his shadows and his feelings that he’d managed to block out the world entirely. 

he willed them back, away from the frenzy around him and into a somewhat calm semblance behind his body, a writhing mass of cool, collected terror.

it was only once they were drawn back that he noticed his brother, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway with his brows raised. 

“want to spar about it?”

his lips twitched up at the edges, and he glanced the ring, before nodding. 

cassian had always known just what he needed when he was in a mood like this.

then again, he’d never quite had a mood like this before. never the hurt of finding his mate, finding out his mate already knew and had deceived him, and then the betrayal to follow, all within minutes. no, this was brand new.

he didn’t want to talk, not as he watched cassian powder and wrap his hands, not as he watched his brother take stance, and not as they began to throw and dodge punches.

no, it wasn’t until azriel was dripping in sweat and panting so hard his lungs hurt that the therapeutic part of it finally kicked in, and his shoulders felt light enough to let the words sitting on his tongue free.

“she’s my mate.”

“yeah.” cassian didn’t even hesitate, and the shock of realising that cassian knew too was so stark he caught a punch across his jaw.

he swore, spitting out to the side and cutting a glare at his brother. he’d already landed a good few punches of his own, but he’d get him back for that one. 

“you knew as well?”

“yeah.” 

azriel landed a hard blow to his brother’s ribs, prompting more than just that one word out of him with a matching glower.

instead, cassian slowed the movements of his feet until they were standing still, panting and aching and loose of physical tension at last. wordlessly, he had stopped the fight, enough that they were actually going to talk about this, it seemed.

“she told me after that one mission, where you almost died and snapped at her real bad. when she woke up after her burnout, we talked about it. I wanted to apologise to her. she told me, that the bond  had snapped for her during that night when she was caring for you.”

azriel remembered that, or, the morning after, at least. how it had felt to wake up to you, to wake up to touch and feeling loved, and how he’d reacted much the same that morning as he had this morning. 

he’d freaked out, and snapped, and yelled a little bit. he cringed slightly at the comparison. 

his brother was smiling, unwrapping his hands. “so, it snapped for you too, then! when?”

“this morning, when we..” 

azriel cleared his throat as heat rose to his cheeks, and cassian wiggled his brows with a smirk. “when we..?”

“oh, gods, cass. when we kissed, that's it.”

then, cassian’s smile dimmed, and his gaze flicked around the room at the chaos left in azriel’s wake.

“so, if it snapped this morning, what the hell are you doing beating out your frustrations up here? there’s much more enjoyable ways to pass the energy surge, you know.”

he winked, and azriel merely rolled his eyes, but he had no anger left to spare at the moment. 

“I… was overwhelmed. I’ve waited so long, cassian, it took me by surprise. I freaked out a little bit, I was so shocked.”

“and?”

sometimes it scared him just how well his brother could read him. he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts enough to recall the morning the way it had happened, without the fog in his mind. 

“and then she told me that she knew. she knew all this time, knowing how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted a mate, and she kept it from me.”

“because you’re just known for your calm, logical reactions in moments of emotional stress. obviously.”

that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.

“she said she knew, I freaked out and said I needed some space to think, because how could she do that to me? I needed to leave and think some things through.”

“well, as long as you didn’t say it quite like that, but..” cassian shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a hearty gulp before tossing it to azriel. 

he was parched, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink when cassian had dropped a statement like that on him.

“that’s exactly how I said it. verbatim. what do you mean?”

“are you serious, azriel?” 

rarely did cassian ever take that tone with him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had, and azriel’s eyes widened a little in shock.

“let me just be sure I’m understanding this correctly. the woman who is head-over-heels for you, constantly gives you her all, openly adores you for all to see, you didn’t even suspect that she was your mate?”

“I mean, I hoped, but I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn't be disappointed-”

his excuse was cut off, ignored, as cassian held his hand up to him. 

“then, when the bond finally snaps for you, because you finally let that last bit of your walls down to actually let yourself be happy, that’s what you say?”

“harsh, cass.”

“you told that sweet, kind woman, who knew and was waiting for you to figure it out on your own, because you’re so stubborn and hard-headed that you won’t just let yourself be happy, that you needed to think? you didn’t stop to think that for all this time she’s been protecting that bond alone, the bond you didn’t pick up, loving you with her whole heart and soul while getting nothing back, you didn’t think about her? what she’s been going through? that about cover it?”

azriel had never quite been lectured like this by cassian before. he could only nod.

“you watched me get my heart broken over and over again by nesta until she realised. and you.. you.. what is there to think about? what, you don’t want her? what, that maybe she’s great for keeping your bed warm but not as a mate?”

something awful, horrible, cold and heavy and sinking settled into his stomach.

his chest felt hollow, that place where a bond had been for only seconds before he’d silenced it felt like a missing limb now.

the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.

if cassian thought those things, then maybe you-..

“oh, gods..”

“you’re such a dumbass.” cassian scoffed, frowning at him and placing his hands on his hips.

“okay, seriously, cassian. you are reaming my ass today, what the hell?”

“you deserve it!”

he couldn't argue that, all he could do was grumble about it.

he dropped those walls back down, reaching out for the bond and tugging. no reply, like a brick wall. he tried again, this time you had shut him out, and he hated how empty that made him feel. how much he must’ve hurt you by doing that.

“do you think I should-”

“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE STILL DOING HERE.”

“OKAY, OKAY.”

it was enough encouragement, enough to spur him from where he was frozen, not even bothering to unwrap his hands as he took off in a jog. 

once again, he was lost to everyone except his own thoughts. 

he missed rhysand as he passed his office and called out a greeting, and he missed elain as he flew in and out of the kitchen, he missed nesta who cursed at him for almost running straight into her.

he searched every room for you, coming up empty everywhere but your bedroom.

he was banging on your door, one hand curled into a fist as he shouted your name, refusing to just barge in when he had so clearly been shut out and cut off, but that resolve was wearing thin the longer you didn’t answer him. 

“angel, please, I just want to talk, stop shutting me out, c’mon.”

his shoulders were slumping, he hoped they weren’t shaking, as your silent treatment settled a heavy sense of foreboding within him.

“hey, az. what are you doing?” elain’s eyes were narrowed on him, and her arms were crossed over her chest as she took him in.

“hey, elain. I can’t find (y/n), she doesn’t want to talk to me.. I fucked up this morning and I know that and I’m sorry!” his voice rose toward the end of his sentence turning back to face the wood of your door and hoping you’d hear it.”

“az, she’s not in there.”

“you know where she is?” he didn’t even have enough to feel embarrassed as his head whipped to her.

“she went back to autumn a couple of hours ago.” elain only shrugged, because she didn’t have a crushing sense of defeat and loss and agony in her chest as she spoke those words. not like he did upon hearing them.

“she.. I mean, she.. what? why? when?” 

elain only shrugged once more. 

“I don’t know. I was out doing some early morning gardening before the heat of the day kicked in, and lucien came out in such a panic all of a sudden and told me he had to go back to autumn immediately, and was taking (y/n) with him. he wouldn’t tell me much more, just that he’d be out of touch for a few days. I barely even got a chance to say goodbye to him before they were winnowing out, bags in hand.” 

she sighed wistfully, clearly missing her mate dearly, and boy did azriel know how that now felt.

he felt hot, all over, and somehow cold at the same time. his body was aching, in all new ways from the vigorous training, his eyes stung so much it hurt to keep them open and will back the oncoming tears. 

“oh, az, don’t worry. they’ll be back soon, I just know it. why don’t we get you some tea, huh? I just brewed a fresh pot of berries and lemon.”

she reached up, one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm to lead him away. it was comforting, the warmth of her touch and the squeeze she gave, the smile to accompany it. but it wasn’t enough, not even close.

so he sat, with a cup of tea clenched between his hands, warming him slowly from the porcelain as elain rolled out bread dough on the counter behind him. 

it was as he took the final sip, staring into the bottom of the blue hand-made mug of feyre’s that elain finally spoke up. the question had been lingering in the air for almost twenty minutes, and he had been delaying it as long as possible.

“do you want to talk about it?”

“not really.”

“talk about it.”

“okay.” 

he’d long since given up on arguing with elain, whether it was her seer abilities, eavesdropping, or an uncanny ability to get information out of people, she’d gotten very good at knowing every single piece of gossip, and it was better to tell her himself than let her puzzle it out or hear it from cassian.

“in a nutshell, (y/n) is my mate, and I fucked it all up.”

“yes, well, I’d managed to piece that much together,” she smirked at him, wiping floury hands on her apron and pouring him a new mug of steaming tea, a spoonful of honey dunking into it to follow before she returned to her bread. “why don’t you tell me the rest?”

“she knew. cassian knew. you knew. everyone but me knew, apparently. the mailman and the courtiers from spring probably know. it snapped for me this morning, and I freaked out a little bit.” he pinched his fingers together, and then winced, expanding them some more “more than a little bit. I told her I needed to think about us, after basically accusing her of lying to me and implying she was awful for doing that, and then I.. stormed out.”

elain blew out a slow breath, slicing the dough into small cubes before shaping them up in circles. “well, it’s not great, I won’t lie. but, I don’t think she’d just run away from you. she’ll come back, she loves you, azriel, that means loving all the flaws that come with you, like brash decisions and saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and storming out.”

he let out an empty laugh at her teasing. somewhere deep down, he could see the logic in it all, but that didn’t stop it from hurting right now. 

“oh, az..” she brushed her hands down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and propping her chin atop his head, squeezing him lightly. he raised a hand, patting her elbow where it sat on his shoulder and sighing. “you two are going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.”

“are you saying that as my friend or as a seer?”

her silence was answer enough for him and he groaned, head flopping down to sit on his forearms on the table as she only chuckled.

that was how feyre and rhys found him an hour later when they came down for sandwiches made of fresh bread, and he was forced to say it all over again. 

then that evening, mor joined everyone for dinner and rhys forced him to reiterate it all over once more as he smirked. 

the following morning, nesta gave him a look as she passed him in the corridor, and he knew that cassian had told her, too.

the only reprieve was amren, who simply did not care, and told everyone as much when sensing the foul mood hanging over him. 

for three days he moped, every evening making him feel worse and worse.

he was lonely, his bed was cold, his chest was colder, and he felt like his heart wasn’t even beating. 

he’d always been confused before when hearing the rumours, the stories of people with rejected or lost mates, and yet now, he understood. 

he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to leave his bed, he wanted to lay, and fester alone, and wait.

azriel had been just fine before, just fine when nobody touched him, nobody told him what he could and couldn't have, when he was moping and broody and he’d never known any different. he was just fine imagining what his life could have been and never having it. 

but then he’d had it. he’d had love and affection and touch, he’d had someone make him their priority, he’d had someone to cheer him up on bad days and to make him laugh when he wanted to frown. he’d had someone. and now, he was back to having no one.

it was dinner on the fourth night, as he was sipping on his wine, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. 

his shadows stilled for a split second, swirling in slow motion before becoming frantic.

the front door was opened a moment later. the room around him went silent, all eyes moving to the foyer.

his spine straightened almost painfully as his hands clenched, trying to resist the urge to fly up from his seat and toward you.

a small smile formed on your face as you glanced around upon making it to the kitchen, and as rhysand stood, his legs twitched, wanting to copy. wanting to follow, to make his way to you, to-

“I’m sorry we just disappeared.” lucien sighed, wiping a hand over his face. he looked exhausted, like he’d spent days on end without sleep, he’d rarely seen the male so stressed. you looked worse. 

concern and panic flared up within him as he took in the circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders like even standing up was exhausting.

“I couldn't say anything until, well, until we knew what had actually happened. no easy way to say it, so, here it is. my father is dead.”

that shocked him, enough that he managed to tear his gaze from you for a second to stare at lucien, jaw dropping like almost everyone else. 

elain’s chair screeched back, she was on her feet a moment later, flying towards her mate and into his arms as she mumbled soothing apologies mixed with vague curses about the man, and lucien only chuckled.

“what happened?” mor burst, frowning in an attempt to seem apologetic, he was sure most of the looks around the table were false sympathy. he wasn’t sure that even lucien was all that upset by it. 

“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”

gasps sounded around the table, and he didn’t care to take in any of it, frowning when feyre stood from her seat and made her way to you, squeezing your hands in her own, and azriel hated it, because he wanted to be the one holding you.

before he could move, rhys was tapping at his shields, a sharp talon scratching down those mental walls he’d put up.

“lucien, we should talk about it. my office, if you’re willing?”

the redhead only nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head before disentangling himself. 

he glanced to his brother, mental conversation taking place, and he knew it was right, no matter how much he hated it. if beron had been assassinated, they needed to talk, and that involved him.

the sympathetic look on rhys’ face did nothing to soothe him, and it was like dragging his body through wet cement as he followed lucien, rhys and cassian out of the dining room and to his office.

for three torturous hours he tried to focus and give his best, and yet you were all he could think about. 

you were so close, you were back within the same four walls as he was, you were here, he could talk to you, get to you. he needed to.

as soon as he was free to go, he was outside of your bedroom door, knuckles tapping against the wood until he heard the faint ‘come in’ from the other side.

you were sitting in your bed, only the lamp beside you on.

“azriel, hey. I’ve been waiting for you.”

he couldn't feel any bone in his body as he all but sagged with relief. “you have?”

you only nodded as he took a few steps closer. “we should probably talk.”

well, there goes that relief.

his throat was burning, he felt so exposed and vulnerable and lost.

he was so caught up that he’d never noticed the return of that bond, the reopening of your end, until a wave of reassurance washed down it toward him.

there were tears in his eyes and his laugh was croaky as he rubbed his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you left. I thought you were gone for good, I was so scared you weren’t coming back to me I thought I drove you away, and you have no idea how much that hurt, I couldn't even think. it- it was like my heart was missing from my chest, I love you so much, I can’t be apart from you, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to make you leave, I didn’t mean to make you sad. not that morning, or the morning after that night you saved my life. I’ll be better, okay? I won’t be so grumpy and I won’t jump to conclusions, and I’ll just tr-”

“oh, oh, az-” he could sense how overwhelmed you were, he was only making it worse, and he watched you kick at the sheets and crawl toward the edge of the bed. “azriel, baby, c’mere.”

you held your hands held out to him, just like they had days ago, and he didn’t make the same mistakes as last time. 

he stumbled forward, until your hands could take his face softly, thumbs swiping away the tears that were flowing steadily over his cheeks. 

one of his hands closed over your own, the other gripping the opposite wrist.

“I’m so sorry, angel.”

“az, gods, honey, I’d never leave you. I’m sorry, that I had to close the bond, but it was a court-wide lockdown, I was liable for treason if I didn’t. all communication had to be cut off, even lucien to elain.”

he could only nod, he’d known that much, because elain had started to grow just as sad as he’d been as of yesterday morning. 

“I’m not going anywhere, ever, okay? one little hiccup isn’t going to ruin what we have. you take as much time as you need to process it, gods know I spent the whole night I was mopping your forehead and checking your pulse was still there processing it.”

you pulled him forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and azriel was sure no drug or alcohol or deep breath as he broke the surface of the water had ever felt like this.

“I thought there was no way this moody bat who wants nothing to do with me is my mate.”

he laughed, hands finding your hips, your cheek resting on his temple as you hugged him close. “I’m sorry I was so rude the morning after.”

“that’s okay, I already forgave you for that a while ago. can you forgive me for not telling you for so long?”

“I already forgave you days ago. I’ve been in agony missing you ever since.”

you pulled away, despite his protests, kissing each of his damp cheeks gently. 

“do you want to get ready for bed and join me? I’ve almost finished my chapter.”

“you sure you still want me?”

“I’m never going to stop wanting you, azriel. you’re mine, and I’m yours. I love you.”

“I love you.”

azriel was quick to strip down, all the way to his boxers, leaving his leathers over the back of the chair and his boots by the door.

you were still kneeling and looking at him fondly, and the air around him seemed to warm with affection, every nerve in his body relaxing.

“you ready for bed?”

“..yes.”

“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”

“I don’t think I could be close enough to you tonight if we actually became one person.” 

he wasn't sure where such a confession came from, but you laughed at him, big smile and eyes closing and he didn’t care. if bearing his soul to you meant relaxed laughing and pretty smiles and feeling like this, he’d tell you every soppy, silly thought he’d ever had.

while your eyes were closed, he moved, all but tackling you onto the bed and burying his face into your neck. 

it only made you laugh more, hands gripping at his shoulders, squirming as his hands ran up and down your sides to tickle, pinned underneath him and breathless as you giggled. 

“az! what about the covers, my book, the lights!”

“don’t care.” he pressed a kiss to the crook between your neck and shoulder, finally relenting his tickling to simply lay on you instead.

love and playful joy and the feeling of fullness flushed down the bond, filling his chest as you caught your breath under him. 

you shifted again.

“az, honey, please-”

“I love it when you call me that.” he groaned, nudging his nose against your jaw, cheeks aching from the smile on his lips. you only tugged at a handful of the covers under your bodies.

“I'm gonna’ freeze in the night, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”

“that’s what happens when you wear these little nightgowns to bed.”

pinching some of the silk slip between his fingers, he jerked it lightly, and you smacked his hand away.

“they’re comfy! and besides, do you know how hot it gets in bed with you?” he pushed himself up, unable to stop the cassian-like smirk on his face as a very cassian-like joke passed through his mind. he needed to stop spending so much time with his brother. “oh, cut it out. you are like a furnace, but above the covers, I’m all exposed, my legs will get cold.”

“no winning with you, huh?”

“you’re gonna’ have to get used to losing arguments if you’re gonna’ be with me, honey.” 

he sighed dramatically, despite the skip of his heart which he knew you felt too, and he lifted himself up, pulling back the covers so you could get beneath, and settling himself in beside you. 

with the book gone and the lights out, azriel shuffled himself closer, resting one scarred palm on your cheek in the dark. “now can we cuddle?”

“yes, shadowsinger, illyrian warrior, terrifying-” he scoffed, leaning in to cut you off with a kiss, one which was cut short by your giggling.

“wasn’t it you that told me none of those things define me, and they don’t stop me being worthy of love?”

“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”

“much better.”

“we can cuddle now.”

he tugged you closer, close enough that his forehead touched yours, cheeks on the same pillow, and he’d never felt happier than this moment, bond singing between your bodies.

after a moment, you moved, head tucking under his chin, legs tangling, and he circled his arms right around you, one wing following.

azriel felt like he was practically melting into you, as the slow traces of your fingers up and down his arm drained away every bit of stress from his body.

“everything is different with you, az. when you hold me, I feel so safe. I feel protected, like nothing can go wrong in the world.”

his heart swelled and he dipped enough to kiss your hairline in response, your nose following, before his lips were meeting with your own.

it was fragile, and soft, and perfect. everything he’d ever wanted. 

it was the kind of kiss that promised every day, not the passion of one night or the teasing of something more. this kiss spoke to every part of him, it filled his heart, made him proud and happy and contented, and he loved it.

“when you hold me, I feel like I can finally be vulnerable. like someone sees every single part of me, and loves me. I don’t feel scared to show you every part of my soul. I am completely and wholly yours.”

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x reader #azriel/you #azriel x you #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar/you #acotar/reader #a court of thorns and roses

[jxsterr]

i just might not be in the right circles but i don’t think we realise just how fucked up puppet zelda was for link to have to encounter. like the one thing that stuck out to me SPECIFICALLY was the crisis at hyrule castle questline that has link hopelessly run around after something that looks like zelda and sounds enough like her but you know there’s something deeply wrong. it was enough to disturb me when i played through it, just how close her voice was to being correct but being too solemn, being just a little too wispy, too repetitive. there’s so many things about the way she speaks that’s only a little bit off, something that a man like link, blinded and delusional by grief, would miss. he’d know deep down in his gut something is wrong, it sounds so much like her but nothing like her at the same time. every time she beckons for him his chest tightens and he feels sick and he doesn’t know why, but he does deep down. he knows this isn’t her, can’t be her, or that if it is something is deeply wrong and both outcomes are less than desirable. it’s so fucked up because realistically he isn’t going to know if he’s ever going to see her again. for all he knows she could remain wandering the putrid soils of the depths for the rest of time, but here her corpse is, being paraded around as if she truly was zelda when she’s nothing but an imposter in the skin of his lover.

so he runs and runs and fights tooth and nail for her and continuously gets close enough to just about touch her but then she disappears and almost taunts him, tells him she’s waiting and he’s growing frustrated because goddess why won’t you just stay put and let me come to you?? i’m coming, i’m trying but you keep running from me. please stop running from me. his mind is begging, pleading for her, screaming i need you i need you like a lost child because he is without her. he’s lost and a shell of the man he used to be, she is his other half and without her he’s downright nonfunctional. and despite the heartbreak of her constantly disappearing he still keeps trying, keeps following her and grows more and more desperate because he’s so close and now they’re in the sanctum and she’s stopped and maybe this is his chance so he takes a step forward and she’s doing it again. she’s taunting him, dancing around him while all he can do is turn around aimlessly in an attempt to follow her. but even then he doesn’t stop for a moment to think if this is zelda, what she’s doing is cruel because he’s far too hung up on the possibility of her being with him again he doesn’t even stop to get upset at her, doesn’t question why she’s torturing him and keeps his focus on getting to her. it’s things like this that show you why zelda has so much trust that he will be able to defeat ganondorf because he’s never stopped chasing after her and saving the world for her and he never will. she could fall and he would catch her, she could die and he would save her, she could be a husk of who she once was and he would still love her. it’s undying loyalty, unwavering love and determination to make sure she’s okay because to him, zelda is everything.

but then she stops and gets so close he could walk over there and hold her again but it’s a lie. it all was. it’s nothing short of desvastating because even though he knew something was awry it still hurts to be proven right. to have scars so painfully ripped open again knowing that he’s back to square one. the emotional turmoil that that must have put him through had to have been insane, if not soul crushing. he’d be inconsolable, sobbing and cursing the very ground ganondorf stood upon to the point where the sages would have to escort him out of the sanctum only for him to fight them because they’re the only people he can take anything out on right now. but it’s not fair because it’s not their fault, and the way that riju hushes him and does her best to speak soothingly while sidon rubs his back makes him feel all the more guilty. so they all stay there, tulin and yunobo on high alert while link is sat on the ground, knees to his chest and weeping because he was so close. he cries and cries until his throat gives out and he’s dehydrated, until sidon has to scoop him up and take him back to lookout landing and he can’t even bear to tell purah what happened but she already knows. nothing breaks through that tough exterior but the dangled hope of zelda’s return being ripped from him. none of the sages want to leave him in this state, so they camp out in lookout landing. tulin does his best to chatter on about all the cool things he’s been doing to stop link from falling completely numb and shutting everything off and it does kind of work, link cracks the slightest of smiles when tulin tells him how he took out an entire monster hideout by himself. he’s lost his world but maybe he can figure out how to keep fighting for her with friends by his side. he’ll just have to see.

#legend of zelda #loz link #loz zelda #zelda and link #zelda x link #zelink #link #princess zelda #tears of the kingdom #zelda tears of the kingdom #totk link #totk zelink #zelda totk #totk #totk spoilers #loz totk #puppet zelda #ganondorf #totk ganondorf #the legend of zelda

[01zfan]

argue with you pt. 3 | s.es

valedictorian!eunseok x debate team leader!reader | 17.9k words

the long awaited part three. i hope the actually insane word count makes up for how long i kept you guys waiting heh. thank you again for 1k and that you for support the argue with you series.

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY EUNSEOKKKK

argue with you: part one | part two | part three

contains: no content warning enjoyyyyy

you haven’t been the best leader of your team lately. in your defense, you may have been too hard on yourself. in fact, if you were to ask anyone on your team about your performance as a leader this season they would only say great things. besides the fact that you seemed distracted. it had gotten to the point that your team had exhausted every synonym of the word during the season.

when you’d mess up calling out events you were preoccupied. when you had to correct wrong information you gave to your teammates you were inattentive. when you would lose your footing and almost trip over nothing you were absentminded. it had gotten to the point that the only time you weren’t flustered was when you were debating. 

they didn’t blame you for seeming distracted. your team came to the conclusion all on their own that you were constantly thinking about your last competition season and how the stakes were raising with each win. they believed you were stressed and felt the pressure for your team to perform well. no one knew the real reason, why your mind seemed to be in a million places at once. when you weren’t debating you were thinking about your debate partner and what you two would do when you were alone. when calling out events you would see eunseok’s name written beside yours on the clipboard and lose track of your thoughts. 

at first your dirty mind would drift to what he looked like on top of you at the previous competitions when he’d sneak into your room after light’s out. you mind would force you to remember how foolishly adamant you were about not fucking in missionary. you thought about how once you started, you couldn’t go back. you lived for each competition not just to debate but also for what you knew was coming each night. either one of you would give your secret knock on the others door after the competition to be let in instantly. in the beginning you two would act only on carnal desires, taking off clothes and clashing teeth before stumbling onto the bed. you two barely spoke in the beginning besides teases and taunts, or the occasional that feels good and right there’s.

as the season progressed the air around you and eunseok changed. the desire was still there, in fact you believe it started to burn brighter than before. sometimes it felt like you were on the verge of combustion, especially when the sun would set on competition days and the anticipation started setting in. but as you started being around eunseok more and more you would see his name on the clipboard next to yours and think about how soft his hands always were and how he started looking at you with so much care. you starting thinking about how much eunseok was beside you at school now, walking you to your classes and sitting at your lunch table. he always made sure to get you the food you liked in line so you could get an extra serving.

when you tried to give pointers to your teammates you started thinking about how both you and eunseok started helping eachother in regards to debate. you would accidentally give your teammates tips that helped the enemy team while you recalled eunseok showing you how to sway the lay judges, teaching you how to convey confidence through your body language and tone. you learned then that eunseok was shyer than you. he was an extreme introvert who just so happened to have an aura people were drawn to. 

the same way he taught you, you gave him pointers on how to save an argument that seemed unsalvageable. it was run-of-the-mill stuff for you, but each tip you gave eunseok’s eyes would focus and he’d nod his head eagerly. it was the same head nod he’d give you in bed when you told him to touch you a certain way or the nod he’d give when you started losing your ability to speak. 

clumsiness wasn’t something that you struggled with before eunseok. but when he was close, you felt yourself tripping over nothing, foot catching on air or something that wasn’t there. eunseok was no better, sometimes stopping for no reason while passing by you. he let his head follow you down hallways and across stages, always stopping mid sentence. he left his friends wondering what he was looking at and your friends would joke that you wore shoes a size too big.

everything was easier when it was just sex with eunseok. you two had set rules aside, a shared google document with a million codewords that could not be cracked by the average person. it was written meticulously, never openly saying the word sex and posing the rules in debate format. it was excessive, but necessary for your peace of mind. your teammates and sponsors often asked for you to share documents with them and the thought of accidentally sharing a document with them that had the logistics of your sexual arrangement with eunseok made your heart drop. you even considered making a whole new email just for the document, but eunseok convinced you it wasn’t necessary. you both compromised by wording the rules in a way that would confuse anyone so immensely they wouldn’t even bother trying to decipher it. eunseok found himself reading the manifesto—the name he came up with—shaking his head as he tried to understand what you were writing on the other side of the screen. 

many rules on the manifesto were broken pretty early on. you two actually had to start writing in the margins to keep track of who was breaking which rules. 

eunseok was the one who broke the rule of no kissing. before you two hooked up for the second time, you made a point to stop his lips from touching yours. who broke the rule was decided after a heavy debate between the two of you. you argued that because you were the one who first denied kissing eunseok it made no sense that you were the one to blame for breaking the no kissing rule. eunseok argued that you only set the rule so it could be broken. he also made the point that no kissing wasn’t in writing when he kissed you. it was arguably a moment of weakness for him, lost in the moment when you emerged underneath the sheets after sucking him off. eunseok saw the spit in the corner of your mouth that you wiped away with the back of your hand, and the glassy look in your eyes that told him you pushed yourself a little past your limit just to make sure he felt good. you gravitated towards towards him like a dream and something came over him when his two hands pulled you in for a kiss. eunseok withheld the fact that you only hesitated a moment before kissing him back, and how quickly you took control while kissing him. you were riding his thigh while he pulled you in closer, and you started whining when he put his tongue in your mouth.

but whoever it was—it was eunseok—was long forgotten. because now you guys kissed without having sex, sneaking away to another storage closet or empty classroom to suck on eachother’s faces. eunseok always would pull away from your lips with a smile on his face one that told you he knew how happy you were that he broke the rule.

you’re able to admit that you were the one who broke the rule of no missionary. you still remember which debate it was. it was a day that challenged you as a leader and debater. everything seemed to go wrong—your team arrived late due to a pileup on the freeway, two of your teammates forgot their uniform, and you were going against the same team that beat you the year prior. you hated being frazzled by things you couldn’t control, unlike your debate partner that let the problems bead and fall from his body like rain. the circumstances and stress of the day made you a terrible debater. you stumbled over your words and rebuttals caught on the tip of your tongue. nothing helped when you saw a smirk on your enemy teams lips, knowing that you were lost. for the first since becoming a debater you felt like you were the worst in the room. you found yourself looking to eunseok in between the breaks. each time he gave you a look that urged you to relax you felt more tense. by the end of the debate you were completely leaning on him and were avoiding the looks of your teammates that had come to watch. 

you were shocked when you and eunseok won the debate. afterwards, you learned the two of you won by the skin of your teeth. you found out after the fact that extra points were rewarded due to eunseok’s confident body language and cracks he exposed in the enemy teams arguments. 

you felt like a shell of a leader when you stood beside eunseok to accept your medal. it was all the same to your team, a win was a win no matter how it was awarded. but you felt awful. it was the first time you failed so miserably, and the first time you didn’t take the lead during a debate. you smiled through the photos while you felt a rock forming in your throat. it unsettled you immensely, and it made you hyperaware that you could no longer have days where you didn’t perform like a future finals winner. you immediately took off your medal after the last camera flashed in your face. you disappeared from your celebrating team for the rest of the day, avoiding calls and texts about lunch and dinner. any selfishness you felt for hiding in your room boiled down to anger and shame for your terrible performance. you were stuck on an infinite loop, recalling the way you choked on your words and feeling the hot light from the stage beat down on you. the sweat rolling down your back made you uncomfortable as you failed at defending your argument. you planned on being completely alone to ruminate on your mistakes when eunseok showed up at your door. he was apologetic even though it wasn’t his fault with food in his hand even though he had already eaten.

the argument that followed eunseok coming to your room unannounced was inevitable. you don’t know why you were so angry, or why eunseok kept a cool head the entire time. you had tired yourself out thirty minutes later, the truth came to the surface after eunseok gave you a surprisingly warm hug. your combative nature that was fueled by your lackluster performance as a debater and leader was extinguished when eunseok started rubbing your back. you bit back tears, and anymore arguments melted in your throat while you slumped into eunseok’s arms.

eunseok then comforted you the only way you’d accept it at the time. he touched you gently where you needed it most and wherever you told him. he made sure you didn’t have to lift a finger, taking off your clothes with gentle and steady hands. yours were still shaking from the adrenaline when you laid down on the soft sheets of the hotel bed and kept pulling eunseok’s body up until he was hovering over you.

“can we do it like this tonight?” you asked him quietly. 

you could barely hold back your tears when eunseok nodded and caressed your face. you felt hot tears slide down your cheeks when eunseok kissed your forehead tenderly while he slid in. he was gasping at how you felt around him while you let out sounds of your own. he whispered in your ear about how great of a leader you were until you were a whimpering mess underneath him. eunseok was slow and deliberate the whole time, and held you close as you came. when he looked at you in the eyes and kissed the tracks of your tears you couldn’t stop the raw emotions from taking over your body. you held eunseok even closer while you cried from stress of the season and the conflicting emotions you were feeling for your fuck buddy. 

you two never spoke about that night but something changed again. you found yourself more distracted than ever before. it was dangerous how often you were thinking about eunseok even if he was right beside you. your mind often started thinking about holding his hand in public and kissing him outside of the bedroom. you would think about seeing him after the competition, and how missionary was your position of choice with him now. 

despite your mind being somewhere else all the time, it wasn’t an issue. no one was bothered by your aloofness as long as you were focused for the debates; and you were. you had led your team to the finals, only two people on your team didn’t advance. the achievement was unprecedented for your school and you were hailed as an exceptional leader for securing funding for future seasons. your wins showed the school board how successful the team can be.

the grant that was given to your team was something to celebrate. the school board came to your final debate meeting, congratulating everyone for a successful season. your teammates looked to you when they awarded the team a grant. the money would be used for better hotels, official uniforms, and better transportation. it was one of the biggest grants awarded in the history of your school, and it was a cause for celebration. that’s why you were hosting an all girls slumber party two days before the competition. it was convenient, being able to celebrate and do prep work with the girls on the team and then carpool to the school together to get to the buses. it was one of the few strokes of genius you had as leader as of late.

the girls on your team enjoyed it immensely, being able to chat and go over the highlights of the season. you tried to be as present in the moment as possible, talking and adding on to everything that was said. you were able to give advice to the first years on your team, and metaphorically pass the baton to them, emphasizing the new attention the debate team would have especially if you won the finals. your team nodded at you eagerly, like you were giving them the keys to life. it was hard to understand why your team looked at you with so much respect and admiration. if they knew about your sexcapades of the season—with the person everyone thought you hated nonetheless—you imagined all of their opinions would change. 

you successfully didn’t bring up your arrangement with eunseok, and how all consuming it was. you kept it to yourself, sneaking off once everyone was in bed to think about what to do. you felt creeping anxiety from the looming presence of the most important competition of your life being two days away. your sleep schedule was in such disarray that staying awake through the night was more plausible. you were also afraid of dreaming, scared that your subconscious would make you dream of a medal or a person just out of your reach. you knew you would end up sleeping on the long bus ride to the competition anyway. you convinced yourself it was because of the constant movement of the school bus that rocked you to sleep like a baby and not the presence of your debate partner next to you.

see you tomorrow.

sleep well.

you read the text as you opened up your fridge. eunseok was the one that broke the rule of texting you outside of your hours of operation—during competitions, priority after lights out. you can’t lie and say you weren’t humoring him, texting him back whenever you got the chance. your progression of texting had turned from sparse texts every now and then to full on conversations. you don’t know why some nights you ended up on the phone with eunseok, only talking about debate for a few minutes before going into mundane things. now you were at the point of eunseok telling you goodnight and how excited he was to see you tomorrow.

your eyes stayed locked on the message, rereading the text over and over again until your fridge yelled at you to close it. you still stared at your phone when you went to your dining room with your late night snack. when you looked up from your phone you saw yunjin.

yunjin came into your dining room, wrapped in her night robe. you were annoyed at yourself, not noticing or hearing yunjin come down the stairs. you truly were distracted.

yunjin and you stood underneath the fluorescent kitchen lighting waiting for the other to say something. you shuffled on your feet and yunjin crossed her arms

“okay. tell me.” she said

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you said.

yunjin laughed and gave you a dumbfounded look, amazed that you think she’s so stupid. she wordlessly makes her way across the kitchen and sits down with you at the table. you sat at the head, looking down at your hands and yunjin sat next to you, head in her palm while she waited for you to start. 

you took a deep breath, thinking about how you are going to have to write in the margins of your google document later owning up to the fact that you broke another rule. you look at your friend then immediately looking down at your hands again. you clenched your fists and closed your eyes.

“you should get it out before it effects your perfo—”

“i’ve been sleeping with eunseok.” you say quietly.

you swear you can hear yunjin hold her breath. you caught her mind sentence, and you could see the gears turning slowly in your friends mind as she tried to finish her thought and comprehend your words. you look up and see yunjin blink slowly as she processes what you said. she still has the same expression on her face as before.

”what?” yunjin asks.

“i’ve been sleeping with him since the season started.” you repeated.

this time the information sinks in. the same moment a weight lifts off your shoulders you can see it transfer to yunjins. she takes in a deep breath, one that takes in all the fresh air of the dining room. you’re forced to sit in silence and watch yunjin’s eyes go wide. you can see your friend thinking about the logistics of it all, finding the facts and thinking about evidence of fooling around. yunjin lets out the breath. she cracks a smile before looking at your dumbfounded face. it surprises you when she starts to laugh. yunjin’s whole body moves as she laughs, causing her robe to fall down her shoulder.

“i was not expecting that,” yunjin adjusts the sleeve of her robe before raising her eyebrows to emphasis the word that. ”i thought you were gonna say someone was getting cut from the team.” yunjin says.

she starts laughing a little louder, and you also smile at the situation. here you are, two days before the biggest debate of your life and you’re confessing to your teammate that you have been sleeping with someone who you treated like a rival for as long as you’ve known him. yunjin tries her best to wrap her head around you and eunseok, it makes perfect sense but at the same time it doesn’t. 

yunjin shakes her head trying to clear her thoughts.

“is that why you seem so distracted lately?” she asks.

you shrug your shoulders, bringing your eyes to your phone that rests on the edge of the table. eunseok’s text still remains unanswered, sitting in the graveyard of all your unanswered texts.

“i thought it was because of finals?” yunjin says.

“that too. i’m going through alot right now.” you laugh dryly, trying to brighten the situation.

“clearly.” yunjin says.

you let your friend process it even more and sit patiently. you know she’ll begin her cross examination soon.

”are you guys together?” yunjin asks.

you shake your head. 

“are you guys exclusive?” yunjin asks.

you nod your head.

“what are you going to do?” yunjin asks.

that is when you do nothing. it’s a complex question, one that can’t be answered with a nod or shake of your head. it surprisingly can’t be answered with words either, you’re speechless trying to think about what you’re going to do with eunseok when the season ends. you think about how you said to eunseok you’d date him if you won finals. back then, it was a joke and something you said to fill the awkward silence of trying to leave eunseok’s room before you were caught or got to comfortable. at the start of the season it seemed impossible to advance this far ahead. but now it felt like the painful conversation with eunseok was unavoidable. 

looks at her hands resting on the table, twiddling her thumbs before you see an evil smile come across her face. yunjin puts her head on top of her hands and looks at you innocently.

“is it big?” yunjin asks.

she’s facetious and expects you to withhold your answer. yunjin audibly gasps when you look down and smile after nodding your head.

“he knows how to use it too.” you say shyly.

yunjin gasps again and hits your arm playfully. she didn’t know this side of you existed, sneaking around with your debate partner. she asks you about the logistics and you share it all. it’s refreshing, finally being able to be somewhat open about your situation with eunseok. you show her the text messages and photos you ended up taking with eunseok during random moments of your time together. she raises her eyebrows when you insist none of the outings were dates. yunjin secretly hopes that you’ll eventually talk yourself into a hole, and she will be able to nail you with a question that makes you realize your arrangement with eunseok has turned into a relationship. you narrowly escape each of her attempts, pivoting when the conversation starts heading towards that direction.

you also spare yunjin some of the details, not subjecting her to the more intimate aspects of your relationship. you think you’ve said more than enough, and all is understood when you give yunjin the look when yunjin asks a racy question. by the time you’re done, you can see your friend understand your conflict. she brings her hand to rest on top of yours, rubbing the same spot you would mess with when the conversation got too serious.

“you know you’re the smartest person i know, right?” yunjin asked.

you lifted your head to look at yunjin. you shook your head the same way you did each time she told you that. yunjin only smiled before gripping your hand even tighter.

“you’re the smartest person i know. so stop being so stupid.” yunjin said.

when your jaw went slack, yunjin laughed and went back to lean into her chair. you looked at yunjin from your side of the table, feeling like her hand smacked you across the face. yunjin only shrugged, telling you that’s all she had for you.

“just focus on ending the season. everything else will come afterwards.” yunjin said.

you nodded your head and looked down again. suddenly there was a wave of shame again. you felt like curling into yourself, or grip your phone until it cracked. the loose ballast in your ceiling lights buzzed as you and yunjin sat in silence. your phone dinged again, echoing off the walls in the room. you looked to the lit up screen and then to yunjin’s raised eyebrows. 

everything else will come afterwards.

you repeated it like a mantra when you turned your ringer off. yunjin’s face remained neutral, following behind you as you headed back up the stairs. 

yunjin withheld what she truly wanted to say, that she had been covering your trail with eunseok like the good friend she was. each time the nosy freshmen tried to pry yunjin had an excuse locked and loaded for you. yunjin didn’t debate but she was cunning, something your team seemed to forget. so she had noticed the glances and the unnecessary touching and the tension no one else picked up on. yunjin had even caught eunseok walking out of your room. she played dumb, pretending she didn’t see him freeze like an deer caught in the headlights. yunjin instead fiddled with the vending machine for a second too long as eunseok backed into your room, closing the door silently to try and not draw her attention. yunjin will tell you about it one day, a day when you visible look like you can handle it. instead she has to play the role of the nurturing friend, putting a hand on your back as you drag your feet up the stairs.

when yunjin comforts you silently you try not to think about how you broke another rule—don’t tell anybody. it was bolded and in a larger font than everything else. you even had it in all caps on the manifesto, and you underlined to really get the point across. you try to comfort yourself by saying it doesn’t matter, your arrangement with eunseok will be null and void in a few days when the season comes to an end. 

the next morning came slowly. it was due to the fact that you were awake looking at your phone, waiting for the sun to rise so you could wake up your team at a reasonable time. while everyone else snored you used your phone as a distraction to occupy your mind. you kept pulling down your notifications tab, checking to see what eunseok was trying to text you. you refused to clear the notification, keeping it there as some sort of punishment. you had peaked at the notification for the millionth time when your alarm finally went off. 

you wasted no time getting your girls up. you let your obnoxious second alarm clock sound off and watched as more and more of your team were pulled from their blissful sleep. they were groggy, rolling over on eachother looking for the source of the noise. some of them were more stubborn, forcing you to jostle their limp bodies until they came back to the land of the living. 

once everyone was awake you went over the list of toiletries they’d need for the hotel stay and their debate materials needed for the competition. you heard disoriented words of confirmation as everyone loaded their things into your car. everyone was able to cram into two cars that had designated spaces in the staff parking lot. any leftover belongings and your vehicles would be safe and secure for the long weekend. it eased your mind as a leader to give a ride to your teammates, it made you feel less guilty about how irresponsible you were at the competitions. you were able act like the leader you once were by double checking everyones debate material and making sure that everyone arrived to the school on time. by the time your crew arrived to the bus pickup, the whole team was accounted for.

the rest of your team was in a huddle in front of the school. it was the designated meeting place for the early morning competitions. it was easy to leave from the front before the rest of the student body woke up and drove their cars to school. the autumn morning sun looked like it was coming straight from the pavement, blinding everyone as they searched for the bus in the empty parking lot. you blinked and held your free hand to your face, trying to block the sun.

“where’s the bus?” you asked.

the boys of your team turned towards you. they had been busy looking for the missing bus they didn’t see you approach them. your girls trailed behind you, their overnight bags and duffles slung over their shoulders. the weather had just started getting nippy from the approaching cold season, and the bitter looks on your teams faces told you they wanted to be inside of the bus to seek refuge from the weather. 

no one answered your question, even the chaperones that were whispering in their own separate huddle.

your team as a unit were decked in their most comfortable loungewear, sweatpants and sweaters that shielded everyone from the frigid air. some people found extra relief from the wind by throwing on a windbreaker. regardless, everyone acted the same by shuffling on their feet and trying to garner any amount of warmth.

when the whole team was together, the boys instantly merged with your group of girls. everyone greeted and hugged eachother in excitement, happy to get an excuse to miss classes. 

you found yourself feeling apprehensive, searching in the small crowd for a certain face. you looked around with furrowed eyebrows, head moving to try and look through the several mini conversations that was happening around you. you even got on your toes to do a headcount that kept coming up one person short. you looked to the group of chaperones that had separated themselves from the group of students. they were teeming with excitement too, looking towards the back of the school and whispering something along the lines of they have no idea.

you approached the group of parents calmly, adjusting the strap of your duffle bag.

“have you seen eunseok?” you asked your sponsor.

before your sponsor could answer, their faces lit up. at the same time you could hear the exclaim of your teammates, some of them even letting expletives slip out. you turned around immediately, having to adjust your eyes to the sun that shined in your face.

when you held your hand up to your eyes you got a clear view of the spectacle. you saw a mini-coach bus come around the back of the school towards your group. the bus pulled up to the curb, stopping right in front of your team. it was sleek and luxurious, the exact opposite of the dingy school buses you took to previous competitions. everyone was in disbelief until the bus opened its doors.

your team looked towards you, as if it was your doing. you had the same shocked and wide eye expression when you turned towards the chaperones. they had big smiles as they approached the bus.

“us and your co-captian pulled some strings for the final competition of the season.” your sponsor said.

before you could ask how, your team erupted in cheers. you don’t think they reacted this positively to anything the whole season. when it was announced your school would advance to finals, the blood left your teammates faces. they had blank expressions as your school was called out, no one cheered or made a single sound. you could’ve heard a pen drop in the room, the only sound coming from the sparse courteously claps from other schools. but now your team was hollering and jumping around, throwing their large duffles into the undercarriage storage so they could rush onto the bus.

the bus jostled slightly as people filed out. you had to tell your team to slow down to let the people off first and to not crowd the entrance. you were more stern than you should’ve been, their reaction for some reason left a terrible taste in your mouth. you understood the excitement regardless, this was the first time your team had been given such an amenity. the hotels was the bare minimum, and most of the funds for your overnights stays were crowdfunded by your team. this was the first time you had seen something so nice that didn’t come out of the pockets of your teammates.

you were staring at the door of the bus, strap of your backpack clenched in your hand when eunseok finally filed off. it caught you by surprise, seeing him come out in between the extra bus driver and the principal of your school. he waited in the folding doors of the bus for just a second until his eyes found yours. you smiled and lifted the hand that was holding the strap of your bag. it was weird waving hi to him, like you two didn’t know the other would be here. regardless, eunseok did the same and shyly lifted his hand in greeting. he forgot about the people behind him trying to get off and the people in front of him trying to get on. eunseok suddenly snapped his head backwards when the principal pointed forward. he hastily got off the bus, almost missing the space between the curb and the last step of the coach bus. 

eunseok floated through the crowd towards you. you were lucky that the exhilaration of the future competition and the luxurious accommodation occupied your teammates thoughts. they didn’t notice how eunseok approached you nervously, or how he stuck his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants when he realized he had nothing to say to you. you shifted in your slip-on shoes and adjusted the bags hanging off your shoulders. it was going to get painful soon carrying all of this weight.

“did you get my text?” eunseok asked.

he didn’t have a backpack on to grip nervously. he was forced to face the situation head on, looking at you right in the eyes. you think he would’ve ran his hand through his hair if he had the chance, but the strands were tucked into the beanie he wore. eunseok looked more comfortable than you did, sweatpants and a matching sweater with a jacket vest over it. 

you knew that eunseok knew you purposely ignored his text. after talking to yunjin you took her advice to try and ignore all of it, focusing on the competition you had tomorrow. eunseok was your debate partner before he was a distraction, but it was getting hard to distinguish the two. 

you nodded your head to his question, and he didn’t say anything else after. you let your confusion turn into anger about the bus situation. your mind quickly evaluated the situation, filling in the blanks to help you feel like your anger was valid. you had already felt like you were failing as a leader, eunseok had to have known by the way he comforted you. maybe eunseok purposely left you out of the loop because he knew you couldn’t handle being the leader anymore. you let the thought sink into your mind more. the irrational part of your brain overtook the rational side and you felt your fist clench at your side. you let your emotions run rampant for just a moment before trying to reel them in. it was no use, strong emotions bubbled in your chest that pulled you away from looking at eunseok.

the two of you stood side by side, silent as the rest of your team mingled and talked about the naps they were going to take on the way to the competition. you turned ever so often to see if eunseok was still beside you. he reached for the bag on your shoulder and you moved away from his hand. you saw yunjin looking back at you as she got on the bus, and you quickly looked away. eunseok noticed something between your glances and backed off immediately. he went on the bus behind anton, and you were left alone to put your things in the undercarriage. once everything was inside you took a moment, looking at your things resting beside eunseok’s. you took a deep breath and slammed the undercarriage closed before getting on the bus. 

when you got onto the bus, the chaperones filed in behind you. you took attendance call, reading the list of your teammates names. every name rolled off your tongue easily, until eunseok’s got caught in your thought. it was there like water that went down the wrong pipe. it was a second of hesitation covered up by a small cough but it felt like everyone knew something was up. your mind came up with the scenario that in under six hours yunjin told everyone on your team that you and eunseok had an arrangement of sorts. it made your eyes stay stuck on the attendance list and it made you tap your pen against the clipboard anxiously. your mind somehow turned it into another reason to be mad at eunseok. 

you sat next to him with your arms crossed as the principal gave your team the worst pep talk you’ve ever heard. your crossed arms tucked further into your chest as he spouted out nonsense. there was no way this was the same principal that gave speeches to the football team. your team clapped simply because it was over as the principal walked off the bus. the chaperones were confused as well, sitting in their seats as the bus driver pulled off from the curb.

the bus ride to the hotel was surprisingly smooth. this was due to the fact that you guys got an actual bus built for comfort as opposed to the school buses you took to previous competitions in the season. once you hit the open road it was soothing with the working air conditioner and screens that were embedded in the seat in front. you were out like a light once you put on your music. you think you went to sleep extra fast because it gave you a reason to not talk to eunseok. 

you don’t remember what you dreamed of, all you remember is that you woke up to him. just like he always had, eunseok lifted one side of your headphones once the bus came to a complete stop. you jolted awake, sitting upright from your resting position that had your head leaned on his shoulder.

“we’re here.” eunseok said gently.

he must’ve woken up recently too. eunseok spoke to you in the same groggy voice he had when he’d ask you not to leave his room. you don’t say anything to him, only stretch and stand in your seat to look at your team.

they get up slowly the same way you did, stretching in their comfortable seats and taking their headphones off their heads. they seem infinitely more comfortable as opposed to the stiff seats of the bus. no one complains about their back hurting, or how bumpy the ride was. everyone seems refreshed as your sponsor speaks first, coming back to the bus after leaving to the front office. she goes down the aisle handing out keycards with the numbers written on them.

“boys are staying in buildings across from the girls. dinner is waiting for you guys in your room. lights out is immediate.” she finishes handing out the keycards and stands in the front of the bus. “competition is early morning so try not to stay awake for too long. call if you need something.” your sponsor says.

you team is still waking up and grabbing their things from the overhead storage. the other chaperones file off and line up people’s things from the undercarriage storage on the paved parking lot. your sponsor looked to you, offering for you to speak but you politely shook your head. anything you said to your team would go in one ear and out the other—everyone was extremely exhausted. you didn’t have half a mind to speak, and you had an annoying crick in your neck that needed to be underneath the lukewarm water of your shower. you just sat back in your seat as the team filed off back to front. 

you and eunseok were the last ones off the bus. everyone was silent, moving slowly as they absentmindedly grabbed their things. people still yawned and stretched, while others talked about the weird layout of the buildings. the boys and girls buildings face eachother and are only separated by the small parking lot. the buildings could easily be mistaken for two separate hotels if there wasn’t another building at the end. the cool weather was becoming colder as the sun disappeared behind the building at the end of the parking lot.

you focused on the setting sun instead of eunseok who stood behind you like a shadow. he barely gave you any space and followed your every move. when he reached for his bag you prematurely leaped for yours, thinking he was trying to help you. 

the boys headed for their building while the girls went the opposite way. you don’t look back as you head for your room despite feeling eunseok’s eyes follow you as you crossed his path. you follow behind your group, keeping your eyes trained on everything but the world behind you. 

eunseok lingers only for a second before turning to walk to his room too. he turns back once he’s made it to his room to watch you struggle up the stairs. he sees the bottom floor hotel rooms illuminated inside, and the curtains either are drawn closed or are opened by the girls as they settle into their rooms. eunseok sees you find your room, then he sees you walk down the walkway to direct your lost teammates to the correct room. he watches your head go down to read the keycard before nodding your head. he sees you adjust the strap on your backpack, and how the heavy weight causes your body to lean as you get everyone into their rooms. he sees your room light up last only after everyone is safely inside their rooms.

eunseok keeps the number on your door at the forefront of his mind. he remembers the number as he eats his cold food, and when he’s in his cold shower. he remembers your room number as he checks the delivered messages on his phone, and he remembers your room number as he recalls the way you’ve been avoiding him all day. 

eunseok stares at the drawn curtains directly in front of him as he absentmindedly chews the gamy and cold chicken. he sits in near darkness, only thing illuminated the silver platter in front of him is the moonlight that seeps through the curtain and the dim glow from the hotel rooms across the parking lot. progressively more and more lights turn off across the way and the night begins to set in. by the time eunseok is done eating he can barely see the plate in front of him. he leans forward until the tips of his fingers grasp the corner of the curtains. his body nearly falls off the bed as he uses the last of his momentum to flick the curtain open. he sees your room light still on, calling him like a moth to a flame. 

eunseok sees the light in your room and he swears he can see your figure through the curtains as his fall back into place. he sits in the silence and darkness of his room for a moment, listening to the clock tick and the sheets ruffle underneath his body. it’s not long before he gets up to dress himself in all black and heads for his door.

eunseok knew that when your rooms were in separate buildings, it was more risky. more often than not, your rooms would be no further than the end of the corridor. on one occasion, your two rooms ended up being side by side, only separated by a corner in the hallway. eunseok ended up breaking a rule that night when he asked you to stay the night in his room, cuddled with him underneath his sheets. eunseok remembers seeing you write his name in the margins on the manifesto, then after a brief pause you put yours there too. 

following that, it got harder and harder for eunseok to not beg you to spend the night with him. once he discovered how pretty you were in the morning it was hard to live any other way. eunseok still believes he had the best sleep of his life that night with your chin tucked underneath his head as he held you close. eunseok found himself subconsciously keeping track of your breathing, matching his chest raises to your breath that would fan his chest. eunseok wondered if you struggled with not having him beside you at night, or if you sat on the edge of your bed hoping the distance of the two rooms would keep him away.

if he had any pride left, he would’ve avoided you completely due to how you were acting towards him all day. but eunseok is nothing if he’s not a man of his word. you two made a binding contract that eunseok planned to abide by. even if the feeling he got from you on the bus ride was strange, it wouldn’t deter him. this was possibly his second to last chance to ever be with you again—he’d be damned if a little walk across the parking lot kept him away from you. so eunseok put on black head to toe and left his room, carefully opening and closing the door so it wouldn’t make a sound.

you sat on the edge of your bed looking at the door. you had been pacing around since you got here, adjusting the temperature in the room a million times before settling for something that was a little too cold. when your body was finally tired, and your mind was drained from overthinking you let yourself try to relax on the couch. then you got up and moved to the bed—then to the couch again. you found yourself finding comfort based on your relationship to the door. it was a restless feeling that started in your feet and worked all the way up to your teeth that picked at your nails. the only thing that pulled you from your full body jitters was a quiet knock on your door.

your head instantly snapped towards the source of the sound, and your body froze. you still had the tip of your thumb pressed against your teeth when you heard the knock again. you stumbled over your pacing feet to get to the door. you pressed your hands against the wood, and put an unclosed eye to the peephole. 

you saw eunseok standing on the other side of the door. he stood there patiently, the opposite of you. when it was you knocking on eunseok’s door you were constantly looking to the side to see if anyone would come out paired with a million texts to eunseok’s phone. he was so patient it almost made you sick—like he knew you were going to let him in. you thought about leaving him out there in the cold. you could tell him the next day you went to sleep with the lights on, or that you were too busy focusing on the competition. but when eunseok looked at the peephole, it felt like he was looking right at you. your hand reached for the doorknob and before you knew it, eunseok was in your room again.

he stood next to your doorframe, moving out of the way so you could close the door. when it was just you and him, it was alot harder to ignore the elephant in the room. it was right next to eunseok when he sat on the couch and looked at you.

“why have you been avoiding me all day?” he asked.

eunseok’s superpower was confrontation. it used to be yours too, but when it came to eunseok it seemed to be your biggest weakness. when he brought up problems between the two of you with ease, it made your heartbeat too fast and it made your face too hot. you looked past eunseok to look at the thin pasty white curtains that hung behind him.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say. 

your words are anything but convincing. eunseok scoffs before leaning further into your couch. 

he makes himself at home in your space, moving his arms to rest on the back of the couch. he messes with the lamp on the table beside the couch, forcing you to stand by your bed in silence. the only thing you can hear is the machinery of the lamp click and you’re forced to stand there with your own thoughts. when the setting of your lamp is changed to the dimmest setting, eunseok looks at you again.

“do you want me to leave?” eunseok asks.

you can see him clearly, even if it is almost completely dark the hotel room. eunseok looks a little nervous himself, like he is expecting you to say no. but you haven’t been able to say no to him in a very long time. so you shake your head, still standing in the same spot on the carpeted floor of your room. 

eunseok’s arms fall from the back of the couch and go to his black sweatpants, mindlessly soothing out the ripples of fabric. when his hands reach his knees he brings them back up to rest on his thigh. he looks down at his pants only for a second before looking at you.

“want to come over here?” he asks.

when you nod, eunseok reaches a hand out to you. you try not to approach him too quickly, letting your hand fall into eunseok’s outstretched hand as you walk to stand in front of him.

when you stand in front of eunseok, he sits upright to bring his back away from the couch. he looks up to you, and you can see his eyes shine. even in the dimly lit space of the couch you can see how they scan your face for expressions as he brings his other hand to your body. one messes with the bottom of your shirt while his other hand wraps behind the back of your legs bringing you closer to him. when you’re pulled forward by his arm, you place your hands flat on your shoulder for stability. 

you let eunseok lift up your shirt and kiss the skin of your stomach. he looks up to you before placing each kiss, and you tilt your head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling of the room. you count each bump of the ceiling, and you can feel it coming closer to you the more eunseok sucks and kisses the skin of your stomach. when he presses teeth to your skin your whimper is quiet, and eunseok brings your closer by the back of your legs. he pulls away from your skin to blow cold air on the forming marks. 

he picked up the nasty habit of leaving hickies on your skin in places no one else could see. it was one of the few rules he abided by in the manifesto, and he took full advantage of it. his favorite place was on your hip bones and along the line of your waistband. it had gotten to the point he would just be leaving marks on top of already discolored skin. each time eunseok pulled away, he had a look of pride on his face. it was sick, but it was a perfect metaphor for your relationship. something only you two could see, but so easily exposed if you wanted it to be. you felt something similar to eunseok’s sick pride after eunseok would leave and you had the chance to examine the purple and deep crimson marks.

eunseok started to mess with the waistband of your pajama pants. you pulled your head from the ceiling to look down at him. eunseok was already looking up at you, messing with the waistband again until you got the hint. you nodded your head and helped eunseok pull your pants down your legs. when the loose fabric pooled at your ankles, and you stepped out of them. eunseok looked at your naked bottom half, and used his hand that played with the bottom of your shirt to run a line from your thigh to your heat. when you sighed and leaned further into him, eunseok grabbed a hand full of your ass. he spoke into your hot skin as he left a light bite on your stomach.

“take off your shirt, baby.” he said.

you obeyed immediately, taking your hands from his shoulders to take off your shirt. you took off your bra too, throwing it somewhere behind you. you let your hands go back to eunseok’s shoulder, and he reached a hand up to grab your chest. 

too many times did you end up completely naked for eunseok while he remained fully clothed. there was something people called men like him. it was a name you only let slip out a few times when everything got to be too much.

“are you nervous for tomorrow?” eunseok asked in between kisses.

your hand that grabbed eunseok’s hair the same way he grabbed your chest loosened. when you stopped your movements he did too, looking up at your with confusion.

“the competition?” you asked.

eunseok laughed before nodding and going back to kissing your skin. you continued to rub your hands through his hair, trying to think about what happens tomorrow. whether you win or lose, you had something arguably even more daunting waiting for you after the fact. you were going to have to talk with eunseok about whatever this was, if it was more than love bites or only two people acting on carnal desires. you two were going to have to make a decision to either continue seeing eachother or to let the moments you two shared end with the final competition. you don’t know what scared you more.

“i don’t want to think about that right now.” you said.

eunseok placed one last kiss right underneath your bellybutton, letting his bottom lip graze on your stomach as he looked up at you. you felt his index finger tease your clit before he brought two fingers between your folds. your hand that was on eunseok’s shoulder tightened.

“what do you want to think about?” eunseok teased.

you could feel his fingers prodding at your entrance. he was so close to being inside of you that you debated on grabbing his hand and doing it yourself. but eunseok knew what you wanted, he always has. so all you have to do is whimper and lean your head to the side before he pushes his fingers inside of you. 

“just keep going. please.” you sigh.

eunseok only hums before going back to sucking on the skin of your body and fingering you. it’s slow and deliberate, when he bends his fingers inside of you it causes your body to lean forward into him. your weight slowly pushes his body further and further back until he is leaning against the back of the couch with his face pressed into your stomach. eunseok uses his free hand to guide your legs to straddle his hips until you are on the couch with him. 

you let your body become pliable to eunseok. you let him guide you down to the couch without a second thought, driven purely by the building tension in the pit of your stomach. you wished it had remained like this through the entire season, none of the feelings get involved. but something about the way eunseok touches you feels better than meaningless sex. when eunseok lets his head rest on your chest you pet his head tenderly. the gentle touches and whimpers wouldn’t be possible if you two still only acted on carnal desires. you just wish you could have both without the feelings.

“so wet.” eunseok says.

his head still rests on your breasts as he continues to finger you. he’s off in is own world now, feeling your slick between his fingers. each time eunseok has the chance to lie with you he is distracted by how ready you always are for him. it distracts him so much that he almost doesn’t notice the way you preen your chest further into his face, trying to get him to suck on your sensitive nipples. 

“want me to suck on them?” he asks.

you nod and continue to pet his head. your pace increases as his hand inside of you increases too. he plays off of your pleasure and desperation, how you can barely speak when you get close. each time you have sex with eunseok it feels like years have passed since you’ve been touched. it makes you equal parts sensitive and whiny. you are a mess when eunseok looks up at you from the valley of your breasts with a grin.

eunseok takes your breast into his mouth. he lets his tongue peak out, laving the area that isn’t in his mouth. his mouth is wet and warm, and you can his smooth teeth graze your sensitive nipple. your lean over eunseok’s head from the sensation, holding onto him tightly as you try and hold yourself together. you don’t know why you’re so close so quickly, but you can already feel the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm.

“eunseok.” you quietly cry out.

“hmm?” he hums around your breast.

eunseok knew you were close. it was getting harder and harder to keep your thighs apart, and your hole was sucking in his fingers and clamping around them tightly. he had to keep your spread by a handful of your ass, and his fingers were thrusting into you with such speed it made your chest jump.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whine.

eunseok detaches from your breast. the cold air hitting your wet skin makes your nipples harden even further. your grip on eunseok’s shoulder is tight, and you have stopped petting his head to grab a handful of his hair.

“i got you.” eunseok says.

you let go of his hand to pitifully paw at the waistband of eunseok’s sweats. he pauses fingering you, shocked by how desperately you reach for his sweats. eunseok can feel himself throbbing against the thin fabric when you look at him with blown out eyes.

“take your dick out.” you say.

your voice is not nearly commanding as you wish it was. it’s still breathy and high-pitched as you come down from almost finishing. eunseok grabs a handful of your ass to lift both of you up slightly from the couch. it’s just enough for eunseok to push his sweats down for his dick to spring free. eunseok’s hard dick barely has enough time to slap against his stomach before you bring your body down to grind against it. he has to tuck the bottom of his shirt underneath his chin to get a better view of the way your hips move. he watches you in awe, alternating between where your bodies meet to your serene face. your eyes are hooded, and your bottom lip is pouted as you chase after something more. 

eunseok’s hands go to your hips, forcing you to slow down. you try but fail to overpower him, and your bottom lip juts out more as you whine in eunseok’s hold. he smirks, and places a quick kiss to your pout.

“you want my dick that bad?” eunseok taunts.

“so bad.” you answer.

in any other situation, you would’ve never given in to eunseok’s teasing. but through the time spent with him you realized that relinquishing control to eunseok is the rare occasion in your life where you don’t have to be in charge. with other people it would’ve caused panic and it always led to you taking a dominant role in the bedroom. but eunseok proved to you each time that he was more than capable of taking care of you and your needs. so you answer his taunts and react well to his teasing, because you know eunseok will give you what you want.

when eunseok’s damp hand holds on to your hip while he lines his dick up at your entrance, you shiver. your grip on eunseok’s shoulders loosen and tightens in anticipation. you can feel his hand let go of your hips and dig into the pocket of his pants before putting the foil packet in your hand. you rip open the package with shaky hands as eunseok keeps you suspended above his lap, only to the point where his tip barely pushes into your entrance. when you get the condom out of it’s packaging you drop it into eunseok’s hands. your walls flutter around what you can feel, and you put your head into the crook of eunseok’s neck to whimper quietly.

“please.” you whine.

eunseok hums empathetically while still holding your body in the same place. it isn’t until you sink your fingers into the skin of his shoulders and mutter something that felt foreign on your tongue. you thought it came from your lips abruptly and too rushed for eunseok to decipher. but he understood you perfectly, evident in the way he bit your shoulder before thrusting his hips upwards to you. 

you cried out loud, trying to muffle your voice in the balled up fabric of eunseok’s shirt. his pace doesn’t relent, so different from the way he fingered you at an achingly slow pace. now his hips come upwards earning a slapping sound of sweaty skin making contact with skin. you start letting your hips drop down in tandem with his thrusts, and you can feel eunseok deep inside of you each time you come down. you pant into eunseok’s neck, and he wraps a hand around your back to press your chest into his.

“you’re so tight.” eunseok grunts inbetween thrusts.

“you’re so big,” when eunseok hits that part deep inside of you, your hips falter ”so deep.” you whimper.

eunseok hums again, and his hand that wraps around your back goes to your shoulder to pull you from his neck. eunseok presses your forehead to his, looking deep into your eyes. when you hold eye contact eunseok’s fast pace changes to a slow and deliberate one, repeatedly hitting that spot with deep thrusts. it’s nearly painful, trying to hold back the pleasure that burns across your body. it started in the pit of your stomach and spread like wildfire. the way eunseok doesn’t relent causes you to sweat, even though you stopped attempting to do any work awhile ago. eunseok likes when he brings you to euphoria all on your own, your only job is to look at him with blown out pupils and to kiss him fervently. 

“i love you.” eunseok says.

your hands are on his face, running fingers over his cheekbones when he says it. you could easily say that the declaration slipped past his lips accidentally, or he meant to tack on a compliment about your body at the end like he has done many times before. but eunseok says he loves you and doesn’t stutter, only looking to you waiting for you to say something back. you can’t stop yourself from closing your eyes and dropping your head into his neck again.

“i’m going to cum.” you say back.

eunseok’s hips falter for a moment. he doesn’t pry, or bring your body back to look at him again when he finishes inside of the condom. he only pulls you closer so your chests touch, sticking together from the sweat.

“fuck.” eunseok sighs.

he only has to thrust up into you a few more times again before you have to bite the fabric of his shirt to muffle your moans. you clamp around his dick, and you can feel the fire project from your body to ignite your room. you hold on tight to eunseok, grinding your hips down on him even though your skin already kisses. you hips don’t stop swiveling until your out of breath and you slump against eunseok’s chest trying to catch your breath. he continues to gently rub and pat your back, soothing you back down to earth.

eunseok guides you off his lap to the empty spot on the couch next to him. you sat there, trying to catch your breath while eunseok started touching you again. he started with your legs that were draped over his legs. he started by running light fingers from your thigh to your knees, creeping higher and higher until your body twitched from the sensitivity. after you let out a sigh eunseok moved to your hands. you let him do it, while you tried to think about anything else. while you scanned your room a million times eunseok was busy changing the grip of his hold on your hand and playing with each individual finger. he continued to play with your hands as he cleared his throat to get your attention. you turned. your head that was pressed against the back of the couch turned to face him. he continued to look at your hand when you cleared your throat.

“i’m sorry.” you say quietly.

eunseok doesn’t heed your apology, only shakes his head like he is trying to clear his mind of what happened.

“i was thinking,” eunseok turned to look at you. “when we get back home, i was thinking we could go to that new mini golf place that opened.” he said.

you stopped letting your hand be so pliable. your hand stiffened in his, and your fingers became unbendable.

“the season is going to be over tomorrow.” you said.

eunseok nods. his hands move up to your bicep, running up and down your skin.

“you said if we make it to finals you would consider dating me.” eunseok laughed.

you could tell that he still had a playful attitude as he spoke. when you shook your head though, eunseok’s demeanor changed. his eyes got a little wider, and his hands stopped running up and down your skin. you felt the absence of his touch, and you could feel the air in the room change. it wasn’t warm anymore, and as the loud air conditioner unit kicked back on you felt goosebumps raise across your skin.

“i said that as a joke.” you said.

“well then it was a joke. but now, it feels like it might not be a joke anymore.” eunseok says.

when you sit beside him without saying anything, eunseok’s smile falters slightly.

“you don’t feel the same?” eunseok asks.

“i don’t like you.” you answer.

your attempt to sound lighthearted failed. it came out deadpan, completely void of all emotion. it wiped the smile from eunseok’s face. he detached his hands from your body, and you lifted your legs so he could lean over and pull his sweats back up. 

he got dressed without saying a word, pulling his black hoodie back on as you stared at him. 

”are you really upset with me?” you scoffed.

eunseok not sparing you a second glance made you realize what this was. this would be the second time you have had an actual fight with eunseok. before your arrangement with him it was usually just meaningless bickering, one trying to get on the others nerves. when eunseok would push your buttons back then you thought you were annoyed, but it paled in comparison of what it felt like to actually argue with him. he ignored you always to try and gather his own emotions, but it only made you lash out more to try and get a reaction from him.

“you knew that this was just sex from the beginning.” you said.

eunseok scoffed as he checked his pockets for the keycard to his room.

“you’re not going to speak to me?” you roll your eyes as eunseok continues to get ready to leave in silence. you get up to move behind him as he heads for your door. “you’re overreacting.” you say.

eunseok stops in his tracks and turns around to face you.

“why are you like this?” eunseok shakes his head from confusion before looking to you. “you make everything so complicated.” he says

eunseok putting all the blame on you has you denying your feelings even more. you regress back to the person you were with eunseok in the beginning of the season. you cross your arms in front of your body and tilt your head to the side. you don’t know how to reciprocate the feelings eunseok has for you, or how to comprehend the conflicting emotions you have felt for him for too long. but there’s an innate part of you that knows how to upset eunseok down to his soul. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say casually.

every single emotion was firing off in your mind, making your body hot and tense. the question was simple but it made adrenaline rush through your veins. you failed to calm yourself, only becoming more highstrung. no matter if you were angry or sad you always ended up fighting back tears, leaving you confused as to why you were so emotional. you argued with people for fun, why was it suddenly the hardest thing you had to do when it was with eunseok.

when you shrug your shoulders waiting fro a response, eunseok continues to look at you. his eyes search yours before he starts to speak.

“do you just feel nothing?” he asks.

you don’t let your mind contemplate for a second before you give him a knee jerk reaction of a response.

“of course not.” you said simply.

eunseok tried to remain calm with you the same way he did the first time you guys fought. that was different than now, he understood back then why you were bothered. but he didn’t know why you stood in front of him now, with a look of regret on your face as you said things you couldn’t take back. if you just admitted feelings it would be easier, it would feel less painful than everything did right now. but you stubbornly stood your ground, crossing your arms like a child. 

eunseok still felt everything for you when you acted this way towards him, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. seeing you actively deny the feelings you have for eachother caused his heart to sink a little further each time. 

suddenly, it like eunseok was drained of all his energy. his tense shoulders sagged and his clenched fists loosened at his sides. 

eunseok continued to move silently towards your door, and he could feel you still behind him.

“that’s it?” you ask.

the defeated tone in your voice almost makes eunseok turn around. but he is drained mentally, and he can no longer be the only one who lets his feelings be known. he also knows that if he turns around and sees your face, he will have no choice but to fold to you. so he says nothing, and only turns the door of your room quietly. he looks down at the floor by your feet, seeing one of your feet move forward like you are about to come to him.

“i’ll see you tomorrow.” eunseok says quietly.

eunseok closes the door behind him and your air conditioner turns off. now it is truly silent and you are truly alone. you stand there in the spot eunseok left you for hours, trying to think where you went wrong. you fall asleep on the same spot in the couch where you and eunseok laid together.

you completely missed your alarm for the next morning. you hear it going off on your phone in the center of your bed when you were woken up by frantic knocking. it brought you from your sleep immediately, making you shoot up from your uncomfortable position on the couch like a vampire. the pain in your neck followed a second later, and the soreness of your legs came after that. you’re mouth is dry as you look around the room trying to figure out where you are. you still have a headache from crying and you can see the outlines of your teammates as they stand on the other side of your window trying to peer in.

you only had a second to adjust to being awake before another series of knocks came to your door.

“i’ll have to come in if you don’t answer the door.” your sponsor yells on the other side.

you look at the clock near the bed. you are almost late, and you don’t have anything ready. realization hits you like another wave of pain to your neck as you come to. it’s the biggest competition of the season and you aren’t ready at all. your team is waiting for you. you are in this position because of what you did last night.

your hand pulls back the curtain so quickly it shocks your teammates on the other side. they end up leaping backwards, caught off guard by your sudden appearance.

“she’s alive!” you hear someone yell.

you don’t see anyone else after you make eye contact with eunseok. he looks at you only for a moment before casting his look somewhere else. you are stunned to silence, forgetting your voice as you let the curtain cover the window again. you fall over the edge of the couch trying to get to your debate uniform that’s neatly folded on your desk. you get dressed in a minute, and brush your teeth in three. you try to tidy up your hair, giving yourself the chance to fix during the ride to the competition. you trip over your feet as you pull on your socks and your shoes.

you answer the door with bleary eyes and a groggy voice. your team looks at you with wide eyes as you apologize profusely. you fix the uneven buttons on your uniform with all of your things haphazardly tucked underneath your arm. you follow behind our group, trying your best to ignore the worried glances they cast backwards to you. 

you let eunseok take the lead as co-captian for the morning. you used the word “let” loosely. you didn’t get the chance to clear your throat before eunseok was calling out who would be deabting and at what time. you were too embarrassed to take control of the situation. instead you looked at yourself in the camera of your phone while fixing your appearance. while you tried to compose yourself on the bus ride there, you heard eunseok give pointers to anyone who asked. you eavesdropped while eunseok gave the same talking points you gave to him. you tried to seem unbothered each time he looked at you, as if he was waiting for you to interrupt. you only continued to look at your notes, trying not to let the severity of the situation today get to you. you had to compete with everything you had inside of you with someone you were currently fighting with. 

you thought about yunjin’s advice, how she told you to save it until after the competition was over. it was entirely too late now, you were in the middle of dealing with it when your mini-bus turned into the parking lot of where the competition was being held. eunseok looked to you once before taking the lead again, handing out name badges as everyone filed off the bus. you were the last one to go down the seats. you let eunseok put the badge in your hand while you keep your eyes trained on the floor. 

eunseok puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes them gently, the same way he used to do at the beginning of the season. usually you would’ve swatted his hand away, but now you felt yourself yearning for any type of contact with him. so you only looked up, focusing on the way eunseok’s lips moved as he spoke to you.

“we will do well.“ he said simply.

before you could even nod, or open your mouth to thank him his hands were off of your shoulders. he walked past you in the parking lot and you trailed behind him, trying to put the lanyard underneath the collar of your shirt without tripping.

you and eunseok never left eachothers side the entire day, but you continued to punish the other with silence. it was ironic getting the silent treatment from eunseok when you only heard his words bounce through your head all day. they bounced around in your skull on repeat while you sat in the audience to watch eunchae and bahiyyih debate. eunseok and you both nodded at the same time when bahiyyih nailed the opposing team with her refutation and when eunchae projected her voice not just to the lay judges but to the audience as well. you were both beaming with excitement at the future of your team, smiles that were wiped off your faces when you both made eye contact.

eunseok telling you that you would do well was echoing in your mind as your breath caught in your throat outside the room you would be having your debate. you were in the same loop you were always stuck in before going into the room. pacing back and forth, using your fingernail to floss between your incisors. nothing brought you from your trance, not even eunseok looking at you with so much worry as he leaned against the wall. everything only made you feel worse, and you had to clear your mind by breathing in and out deeply. 

when the assistant to the judge came out, you turned to look at eunseok. he pushed himself up from the wall, and ran his steady hands down your arms. he blew warm air on your cold hands and rubbed them together to create warmth.

“don’t worry about anything else,” he put your unclenched hands back at your side. “you came here to debate. so lets do that.” he said reassuringly.

you nodded your head and licked your lips. for the second time that day, eunseok let go of you before you could tell him to keep touching you. he fell back right before going through the door, letting you take the lead. 

when you go through the door, the first thing you see are your opponents. they stand tall, and you know they have every reason to. their school has won the finals for the past three years. respect is such a ridiculous thing to talk about, especially when it’s in regards to kids your age who you have never met before. but you feel respect for the opposing team and how they stand tall. you come to the center of the two tables with the other teams leader while eunseok stands behind his chair. you shake hands with your opponent, reading the badge as you agree to debate fairly.

we will do well

eunseok’s words play again and again in your head when you sit at your seat. it finally causes the blaring sound in your ears to subside and your thoughts are streamlined and pieced well together. 

you barely remember debating—it comes and goes and only reappears in pieces. what you remember is looking back to your team in the crowd as they give you a big thumbs up, and how eunseok nods in his seat with confidence as you spoke. you go back to the tips that eunseok gave you, puffing your chest to convey confidence and almost talking smugly. 

when the debate is over, adrenaline has you on your feet for the rest of the day. you don’t come down until the sun does, and just when you think your nerves have settled the time to announce the winners comes. you are alone for the first time the whole day, eunseok is nowhere to be found. you are left to your own thoughts while you wander the halls of the university like a ghost. you aren’t pulled from your stupor when eunchae pulls your hand towards the auditorium.

you filed into a seat next to bahiyyih at the end of the row you intentionally left the row seat next to you open as you looked around for eunseok. people from the competitions were filing in, the auditorium would be full soon. the end of the competitions when they’d announce the awards were always your favorite because it gave you an excuse to look around for eunseok. you were able to hide your need to sit next to him under the guise of having to be next to your debate partner. you never spoke it out loud, but having eunseok next to you calmed your nerves that came with the anxiety of losing. usually you were fine, your skill in the debate room let you know you’d come out on top. you also admittedly enjoyed being the first person that saw eunseok’s face light up each time you were awarded a medal. he was always the first person you turned to, smiling ear to ear as you both got up from your seat. but now he was nowhere to be found and you felt like this was the time you needed him most. the trophy could go to anyone, the debate was evenly matched, sometimes the scale tipped in your favor and sometimes it tipped to theirs. you wanted nothing more than to have eunseok next to you telling you that you guys won. when he spoke about hypotheticals they always came to fruition. 

eunseok came and sat next to you quietly. it was so quiet you didn’t see him, still looking around the room waiting for him to come through the door. when eunseok shuffled in the seat next to you, you were prepared to tell whoever it was that the seat was for somebody else. 

when you turned to see eunseok you were unnerved by how he continued to look forward. he was unbothered by your presence, nearly ignoring it as you sat next to him. it made you even more anxious, getting the serious silent treatment from someone who was usually so playful. you only moved in your chair before clearing your throat, trying to look busy as you flipped through the program. eunseok was his usual self with everyone as they greeted him. you two had to put on fake cheery smiles, laughing along with people and thanking them when they complimented your debating skills. the moment it was just you two though, eunseok would go back to ignoring your existence. the silence made you go through your phone a million times, checking notifications that stayed the same and the weather app that remained unchanged. 

you were relieved when the lights in the auditorium went low and a spotlight shined on stage while the hosts and judges walked out. they came out in a line, holding trophies and a oversized check with no name written on it. you could hear your team surrounding you make interested noises at the check and the trophies. 

“that’s ours.” someone whispered.

“money money money.” someone else said.

your team held in giggles while the host of the competition started the rules and how the winner was calculated. everyone listened on the edge of their seats, waiting for the winners to be announced. you felt nerves of your own, picking at the frayed fabric of your debate uniform. it only got worse as the announcer started naming off categories. string pulled from the stitching of your skirt twirled in your hand, and the sound of it being plucked from the seam filled the tiny space between you and eunseok’s legs. he looked down for a moment to see where the sound was coming from. you instantly stopped, letting your hand rest on your thigh to soundlessly pick at your black tights.

“i’m sorry.” you said quickly.

eunseok looked back to the stage as they announced the debaters for independent events. he said nothing, but he brought his hand that was on the armrest down into the darkness past the seats. his hand settled there for a moment, completely gone in the void of the seats. you thought nothing of it until he brought his hand back up and gently placed it hand over yours. 

you stopped picking at your inky black tights immediately and turned to look at eunseok. his expression didn’t change, and he still looked ahead at the stage, but he gripped your hand a little tighter to let you know he meant it. you instantly squeezed back, letting your clammy shaking hands find comfort in eunseok’s steady hold. anxiety and bewilderment bubbled in your stomach, reaching all the way up to your chest. you tried looking forward at the stage to be nonchalant like eunseok, but your heart was beating so fast you thought it would explode. 

when each winner is announced, both you and eunseok linger to see who will take their hand away first to applaud. sometimes it’s you and other times it’s him, but each time your hands on instinct go back to holding eachother. 

you have a white knuckle grip on eunseok’s hand when the public forum debaters are called. you close your eyes when you hear your name, preparing to let go of eunseok’s hand when the winner is announced. you both only freeze and continue to hold hands when your name is called.

you didn’t expect to hear your two names come through the stage microphone. it took everyone on your team in surprise. you turned down the aisle mouth agape to see your teammates slack jawed too. you turned to eunseok whose wide eyes still looked ahead.

”are you two out there?” the host said jokingly.

yunjin started cheering first, and giselle leaned over bahiyyih to pinch your arm. when you smacked her hand away she pointed to the stage, motioning for you two to get up. you forgot that you had to go onstage, and you also forgot that you were still holding eunseok’s hand. when je got up first from his seat, and the commotion brought everyone’s eyes to focus on him. he held your hand still, so when he stood everyone on your team clearly saw your two hands clasped together. you heard the whispers again, but the blood rushing into your ears nulled every sound. you both looked down at your hands clasped together. eunseok hesitated for a second before letting go, and you quickly pulled your hand down to rest at your side. 

you felt like your face was on fire you followed him down the aisle of seats, with your head hanging as the rest of the auditorium began applauding as well. it started off scattered, but picked up when your team started cheering loudly. the tension in the room raised and the space between you and eunseok felt like a chasm. he let you ahead of him as you approached the stairs. his hand went to the small of your back like it always did when he was navigating through spaces, and you tried not to read too much into it. you instead focused on the sound of your school shoes on the hollow ground of the stage. you focused on not falling, and taking the gigantic check that was in the judges hand seamlessly.

you and eunseok remained onstage as they announced the rest of the winners. it was incredibly awkward, standing up there with a gigantic check in your hands with someone who was essentially your ex. while your sponsor took photos of you two standing on complete opposite ends of the check other debaters came up to you guys. they had nothing to say but praise for your teamwork and the first time win for your school. you and eunseok only nodded awkwardly, while thanking people profusely. your face was burning and eunseok’s ears had become beet red. by the end of it you were exhausted to the point of tears. when your team left the auditorium you handed off the check to your team, letting them take their own pictures with it.

the overstimulation from the awards ceremony made the resolve crumble, your stoic demeanor regarding eunseok was more obvious than ever. it also didn’t help that your team also saw you two holding hands in your seat. they pieced everything together over the course of dinner, some faster than others. by the time eunseok came to dinner everyone knew. it was silent as eunseok walked into the lobby. they watched as your eyes followed him the whole time, and eunseok not sparing you a glance. as fast as he was in he was out, and you watched him like a hawk the whole time. it angered you the same amount it worried you, and your whole team was intrigued. 

when eunseok left it was whispers and rumors for the rest of the night. you finished your food quickly after, cleaning up your area before heading to your own room. 

as you walk across the paved parking lot you look back to see eunseok’s room. it feels like it’s miles away. the curtains are drawn and the lights are off, unlike the other rooms of your teammates. you’re sure festivities will be happening all night celebrating the wins, but you would be heartbroken that the season was over. 

it was a creeping realization why it broke your heart so much. you loved debate, you always had. but you don’t know why you felt your stomach sink each time you thought about never coming to these competitions again. never seeing your team in this context hurt, the thought of this moment in time never being created again hurt even more. but you would have the chance to see them at school. you only bonded with everyone on your team this season, learning about them through long bus rides and lunch table talk. 

but you had gotten so close to eunseok over the time too, learning things about him that added depth to the character you thought he didn’t have. the thought of never being able to be with him again in private and in public made your steps falter and your breath catch in your throat. you looked at his room again, praying that the light would turn on and he’d open his door to call out to you. but the cold wind continued to nip at your face and freeze your hands tucked into your pockets. you look at eunseok’s door again, then you look to yours. your room for some reason seemed lonelier.

it was ironic that it was you nervously crossing the parking lot of the hotel now. you were clad in black the same way eunseok was, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible while you walked the moonlit path to his room. you wanted to turn around, to try and salvage whatever was left of your pride. you were a highly decorated debater and a leader that took your team to victory. but now here you were, pitifully walking across the parking lot as you came to terms with your feelings.

you must’ve went back and forth in the parking lot a million times, trying to decide what you really wanted to do. each step you took to eunseok’s room you thought about all your possible options. you could never talk to him again, never even look his way at school. it would’ve been easy. the season was over and you really had no reason to see him again. you wish you had the excuse of having a class with eunseok, because then you’d have a reason why you wanted to see him so badly. it was inexplicable why you needed him in your life, and why you only came to this conclusion after realizing the possibility that he wouldn’t be in it at all.

you let your train of thought run wild until you ended up in front of eunseok’s door. you were still, not moving your hand up to knock on the wood. you just stood there, waiting for yourself to gain the courage to knock. the skeptic in the back of your mind also told you it was time to prepare to be rejected. you held your breath as you formed a fist and knocked gently on the door.

you stood out there for what seemed like ages. you thought about how you left eunseok waiting outside your hotel room for even longer than this and felt guilty. with each second your heart dropped more and more, you don’t know why you would subject the man you like to waiting outside. you started losing hope quickly, that eunseok was being cruel to you in the way you deserved. you were being left out to dry the same way you left him—it was poetic truly. so you pitifully turned on your heel and started walking back across the parking lot to cry yourself to sleep.

before you left the shade of the platform above, eunseok opened his door. you turned back around instantly, trying to stop the smile from forming across your face. it was hard to remain happy as you took in eunseok’s serious expression. he only opened the door enough to see half of his face, and the short metal chain as an extra safety measure covered part of his face. the less you saw of him the more panicked you felt. eunseok always gave you everything, but now on the other side of this door you felt like a stranger. you wanted to reach through the crack in the door and touch him. he continued to look at you, the playful glint he usually had in his eyes were gone.

“what do you want?” eunseok asked.

he spoke at a normal volume, different from the usual hushed whispers. you looked down the row of doors in panic. someone could easily hear his voice if he kept that same volume.

“i came to apologize.” you said quietly.

eunseok looks at you for a second longer before closing the door. you continue to stand out in the cold, hearing the chain unhook on the other side of the door. eunseok a second later opens his door, inviting you to the warm yellow glow in his room. 

you smile at him as you walk into his room. you’re still met with eunseok’s expressionless face, and you want to continue walking to lock yourself in his bathroom as he closes the door and locks it. you sit on the edge of eunseok’s bed, putting an indent in the neatly folded sheets. eunseok still stands by his door, arms crossed as he looks at you. the warmth you felt in between the moments of intimacy was gone. eunseok made you feel like an intruder, and you started feeling a rock form in the bottom of your stomach. 

you’re silent for too long—eunseok tilts his head and raises his eyebrows to show you his impatience.

“i’m sorry for how i acted yesterday.” you said.

you rock back on your heels, taking out all the nerves you feel from looking at eunseok in his eyes. he stands with his hands in his pockets, repeating your apology in his head over and over again. after a moment he lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“i forgive you. and i did overreact—you were right.” eunseok rubs the back of his neck as he thinks back to his own actions “i can’t force you to like me. so we should end it here before we head back.”

you shake your head and take a step closer to eunseok.

“you only reacted like that because of what i said to you.” you reasoned.

“i still don’t like how i reacted.” eunseok says.

you nod to accept his apology. it gives you time to try and think of how to say the things you still need to say. your confession sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t put it eloqunetly like you imagined it. 

eusneok stands in front of you, with his hands moving in his pockets as you two stand in complete silence. you hear the door next door open, and you instinctively move out of the line of sight in the window. your movement puts you close to the door, so close that you could turn the knob and be outside in a few movements. eunseok looks past you to stare at his door, motioning towards it gently.

“the person next to me is random. he won’t know if you leave.” eunseok says casually.

his tone doesn’t tell you to leave, leaving it open to what you want to do. eunseok walks towards you, until he stands in front of you. you can smell the fresh soap on eunseok and see droplets from eunseok’s wet hair fall on on the carpet. when he’s close enough to take in a deep breath of him, and close your eyes.

“i like you,” you open your eyes to see eunseok already looking down at you. “i like you so much it kind of freaks me out” you say.

your confession floats in the cold silent air of eunseok’s room. it circles around your bodies like a string, pulling you closer and closer together as the words sink in. eunseok brings his hands from his pockets so squeeze both of yours. he works his way up from your hands to your elbows, then to your shoulders. your hands go to eunseok’s waist when his hands hold your face, rubbing his thumb along your features. a gentle hand tilts your chin up before eunseok brings you into a kiss. you close your eyes a second after he closes his, to make sure that this is real.

eunseok’s soft lips touch yours, and you press gently back. the way eunseok can’t stop running his hands over your body makes you think he’s not sure if this is real either. you both kiss back timid and gentle, the sound of pecks and chaste kisses fills the room. when you push back against eunseok’s lips a little rougher he pulls away. 

he runs his pink tongue over his slightly swollen lips before looking at yours. the lamp beside eunseok’s bed casts the shadow of his hands reaching for the bottom of your shift against the wall. you see your bodies move in realtime in your peripheral vision when you reach your arms for the ceiling.

eunseok helps you out of your sweatervest, tossing it behind you somewhere. he slowly undoes each button of your blouse while you start pulling eunseok’s shirt over his head. he has to hurry with the last button to take off his shirt the rest of the way, leaving you both in your bottoms and you in your bra.

he takes a step closer the undo the button of your slacks. the teeth of your zipper makes a quiet noise, but it’s heightened by the absence of sound in the room. you let the material pool at your ankles and eunseok does the same, both of you stepping out of your pants at the same time.

eunseok knows he has seen you naked before. he doesn’t know why it feels like the first time again, or why you look like a fallen angel in his room. your eyes are red from nearly crying as you look up at him, and your bottom lip is swollen from nervous bites. when the yellow glow of the dingy hotel room bounces off your skin, it makes you look too fragile to touch. his hands almost shake as you guide them to your back, letting them rest on the clasp of your bra. you let your hands rest on eunseok’s shoulder as he undoes the clasp on the second try. the elastic snaps forward, and your chest is free from the material. eunseok helps your arms out like you’re made of porcelain. he lets your bra drop onto the ground beside your pants.

eunseok brings you in for a kiss again, turning you around so he can guide you to his bed. when your back legs hit the edge he guides you down gently, leading you all the way until your pretty head rests between the pillows.

you can feel eunseok twitching against his boxers as he presses his dick against your clothed heat. your panties stick to your folds as eunseok continues to grind into you, and you can feel precum seeping through his underwear. eunseok trails kisses from your cheek to the crook of your neck, letting out a depraved groan when you wrap your legs around his waist and lift your hips up.

“remember the first time i fucked you like this?” eunseok asks.

eunseok kisses your forehead before putting a firm hand on your waist, keeping you in place. he leans back on his legs to be upright and a gentle hand pushes the waistband of your panties down. all you have to do is lift your ass off the bed slightly while eunseok guides your legs out of the holes. eunseok leaves a trail of kisses starting at your ankles that ends at the space right next to your lips before he’s hovering over you again. he takes off his underwear with much less care, and you use a cordinated foot to help him get his underwear off all the way.

you nod your head and wrap your legs around eunseok’s waist, not letting him get any further from you. you move your hips to close what little space there is between the two of you, and his hard dick presses against your entrance. it’s like it’s the first time again, the way eunseok looks to you for approval until you nod your head desperately. the space between your lips crackles with electricity as eunseok slowly pushes his dick inside of you. it’s delicate just like his touches, and he takes his time pushing in all the way.

eunseok slowly slided back out. you’re forced to keep your hips in place and take it all as eunseok continues to pepper kisses all over your face. he pushes back into you just as slow making you gasp and pull him close to you.

“i missed you too.” eunseok says.

“i’m sorry,” your words are caught in your throat when eunseok puts a delicate finger to your clit. “i’m so sorry.” you whine.

eunseok continues to kiss you. he stops rubbing your clit to press his finger to the sensitive bud. it makes you squirm undeerneath him, and he kisses your sleepy eyes.

“it’s okay, just don’t break my heart again alright?” eunseok says.

when he presses a little harder to your clit you arch your back, and eunseok wraps a hand behind you to bring you closer. 

“alright.” you whine.

you are the one that kisses him first this time. your hands bring eunseok’s face impossibly close to yours as you push your tongue past his lips. you taste everything, and you can feel eunseok’s warm tongue touch yours. you can barely get enough of him, only halting in your kisses when eunseok changes the motion of his fingers or thrusts into you roughly. your moans are eagerly swallowed by eunseok, and he starts ravaging you the same way you were doing to him.

“feels so good.” you say in between thrusts.

“i know. i know.” eunseok coos. 

he kisses the waterline of your eye, and you dig fingernails into eunseok’s back.

“i’m close.” you whimper.

“me too.” eunseok says back.

his voice starts to waiver on its own. his usual steady tone cracks, and you can hear his moans become more breathy as he increases the speed of his hips. 

you reach between your two bodies to pull his hand away from your clit to hold it. you squeeze his hand, trying to find an outlet for your orgasm so you can prolong feeling of eunseok’s hot puffs of air against your neck and him hitting that spot deep inside of you. eunseok still rests in the crook of your neck, nearly whimpering into your ear when you need to look at him.

“eunseok.” you whine.

he pulls away to look at you in the eyes. you move his bangs away from his eyes as his hips begin to stutter.

“i love you.” you say quietly.

eunseok pecks your lips before pulling away to look you back in your eyes.

“i love you too, baby.” eunseok grins.

he can’t get another word out before your body reacts to him. you pull eunseok close to you by pressing hands to his back and wrapping your legs around his waist. for the first time ever you overpower eunseok, and he lets you completely take charge. your walls seize around eunseok’s dick and you press your ass into the mattress to fuck yourself on eunseok’s dick. eunseok lets you overstimulate him while you reach your own peak. his moans turn into desperate whimpers while you continue to milk him. it isn’t until eunseok is nearly crying out your name that you orgasm yourself. eunseok wedges his hand between the mattress and your body to pull you into a hug, and you moan mixing curses and eunseok’s name while you came undone. 

you two lay in bed together for awhile. it takes you what seems like ages to stop twitching, where eunseok can touch you without you moaning from overstimulation.  you two talk about everything, giving the other a play by play from your individual perspectives. eunseok proudly informs you that he knew about his feelings after the first time you two had sex, and how he was waiting for you to realize your own feelings. you told him a story of your own, how scared you were to admit your feelings for no reason.

before it’s time for your team to depart, eunseok regrettably tells you that you have to go back to your room. he helps you back into your debate uniform, finding your undergarments and clothing items that are strewn across his room. he helps your sore legs through the black tights, and he laughs when the buttons on your blouse are uneven. he lends you his jacket before walking you across the parking lot to your own room. the sun started rising over the parking lot, illuminating your path in light blue and golds. the usual nip of the cold morning was manageable with eunseok’s hand clasped over yours, and you didn’t have to worry about tripping over potholes in the parking lot with his hand resting on your lower back. when you get to your door you kiss eunseok one last time. before closing it all the way, you open it again to give him one last peck on his lips.

“see you in a little bit.” eunseok says with a smile on his face.

“yeah. see you in a little.” you laugh.

when you finally close your door and eunseok finally leaves your stoop, you finish packing up. you change out of your rumpled debate uniform and take a quick shower. by the time you’re done getting ready for the long bus ride back, you get a knock on your door. you leave the person on the other side waiting for only a second before swinging the door open. 

eunseok turns away from the parking to look at you, smiling bright when you smiled right back at him. you let him grab your hand as you leave the awning of your hotel room. 

you two take the walk together back to the mini-bus, acting oblivious to the loud exclamation of your teammates as you admire your trophy.

#01zfan: eunseok #seriez: argue with you #eunseok smut #riize smut

[staticradiodotcom]

Lucifer as your Boyfriend NSFW

AN: I am starting to understand the hype around this man-

Tags: Lucifer x Gn!Reader, Smut, NSFW, Possible angst??, fluff. lots and lots of fluff. This is kinda lazy sorry. Not proof read.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

NSFW - TOP!LUCIFER

He’s big. A proud 7.5 inches. This man knows how to use it.

He’s always slow and precise with his moves. slow and hard is his trademark.

He gets off on making you beg.

He is the king of hell, but FUCK when you treat him like royalty he melts.

Protective. He will mark up every inch of your body so you know exactly who you belong to.

This man can make you cum in minutes with his tongue. He knows how to use it.

He doesn’t get jealous easily, He trusts you completely. However he gets insecure so he vents his insecurities into sex so he knows that no one else could get you like he does.

Loves to tie you up in intricate patterns. will tease and edge you as he does just so he can keep your interest.

He will choose your pleasure over his every single time. Sometimes he doesn’t even get off, it’s as if he forgets too. (but you’ll always correct that.)

Is usually soft and gentle with his movements but if you ask him to be rough he won’t hesitate to use you.

‘My gorgeous whore, filled with my cum.’

‘awe honey.. are you sensitive? I’m sure you can take another round.’

‘you’re so good for me, taking me like a champ. Come on baby, almost there. just a few more inches.’

‘Are you going to cum for me sweetheart? okay baby.. it’s okay.. i’m here, Cum for me. Scream my name. who’s making you feel this good?’

Huge cuddler. He loves to have his hands on you at all times even while he’s driving himself into you.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

NSFW - BOTTOM!LUCIFER

This man lives to serve. He’s obedient and keen to please you.

Always so cuddly but he will never outright ask for you to ruin him. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured.

He whines. He’s a mess while you use his body however he wants. constantly moaning your preferred name.

‘please.. please let me cum.. please i’ve been so good.’

He loves being fucked rough and hard, he wants you to use him until he can’t think.

Constantly needs reassuring (‘is this what you want?’ , ‘do you feel good?’)

Will completely melt underneath you while you ride him, bucking up into you as he desperately moans out.

Tie him up. he loves to be powerless.

Mark him up. show all of hell he’s yours. He doesn’t care what people he doesn’t care about think of him. He wants all of hell to know how lucky he is.

VERY CLINGY AFTER SEX. He is terrified you will get up and leave so he holds you close to him telling you how much you mean to him.

‘you made me feel so good baby. thank you..’

He loves to give you aftercare but he needs it just as much as you. he considers himself so lucky. He’ll kiss you constantly until you fall asleep in his arms.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer x adam #alastor x lucifer #x reader #light angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff #hazbin hotel #hazbin

[wisellamawerewolf]

Charlie is an indicator of greater problems with Hazbin's writing.

*rant under the cut, as always*

I've read a couple of posts detailing how Charlie really comes off as a terrible person because she enables people who do terrible things (Alastor, Lucifer) and is completely useless when it comes to providing support and protection for the people she's supposedly cares about (Vaggie, Angel Dust), and while they are absolutely correct in their observations, I feel like Charlie is an embodiment of a bigger issue: the series' identity crisis.

The series constantly flip-flops between being the raunchy adult comedy that is supposed to get into very serious topics, and being a wholesome Broadway-esque musical about how anyone can change for the better. And accordingly, Charlie is flip-flops between being either a nice innocent girl who has almost child-like view of the world and has to be protected from terrible reality of life in hell by others, or someone who's hyper aware of a genocide and a awful state of the hell. She's supposed to be a combination of those two things, or at least grew up as a character from the former to the latter, but instead she feels like two similar, but ultimately very different characters.

Let's take episodes 1 and 4 for example.

In episode one although Charlie is quite hopeful about things, she's aware how horrible the hell is and how genocide affects her people. At one point she even looked like she was about to try and kick the leader of angels' ass for implying all souls in hell deserved death.

She also tried and direct Adam to the important topic, albeit pretty softly, but still she made an impression that she could at least be somewhat assertive and hold her ground.

In episode four she behaved like a completely incompetent child.

She was afraid of coming off too "mean" (she didn't even have to be that to be assertive?), she acted childish through out the meeting with Valentino and messed up so bad she left the studio in tears.

Also she decided to write an apology letter to everyone INCLUDING Valentino??? Excuse me, but literally what the fuck. No wonder even Angel fucking Dust of all people felt like he should shield Charlie from the reality of his job- the same guy who pretty much only talks about sex 24/7.

There's a couple more examples of her character going through the same roller coaster, when she seems to be oblivious that Alastor says she's like a daughter to him only to get back at Lucifer, or when she's horrified by implications of Vaggie being an ex-exterminator, etc.

Why do these drastic changes are constantly happening? Simple: the plot demands so. Charlie is afraid of being mean when the plot needs her to step away from the Angel Dust's situation so writers could milk tHe dRaMa, but suddenly this fear disappears when she tells an old lady to shut the fuck up.

The same way how plot demands to have a Broadway style song that feels like it belongs in a cartoon for a school age children, right before the episode discussing sexual abuse, where violence is used as a source of jokes.

The show wants the conflict that could be resolved in a single episode to discuss a serious issue that realistically would take years to fix, be it the self-esteem and self worth issues or the redemption. This also creates a problem where the characters don't feel three dimensional, they feel like two different characters who are equally flat replacing each other when the story demands it.

Charlie is just a glaring example of the show's overarching writing flaws.

#hazbin hotel critical

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

DROP YOUR DX FOR VOX !!!!! Please and thank you.

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

(I've already posted some stuff here so I'm not going to repeat myself.)

Okay, so, Vox has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). It's crucial to distinguish this from "common narcissism" (people often described as "narcissists" by others just because they are egotist assholes; kinda ableist, you shouldn't do it because it's extremely stigmatizing towards people suffering with actual NPD) . While those individuals typically function well, those with NPD exhibit all the traits – grandiosity, egocentrism, attention-seeking, intense power fantasies – but as it's a disorder, these traits lead to inflexible and maladaptive patterns of behavior and cognition.

NPD has its roots in intense feelings of shame, low self-compassion, and self-loathing. In my interpretation, Vox has always felt inadequate. His father inherited an enormous amount of money, establishing a media conglomerate in the 20's. Vox's mother, captivated by the world of movies, used them to escape her reality as a trophy wife. Despite her dreams of becoming an actress, Vox's father, possessive and protective, prevented her entry into the entertainment industry. As a compromise, he made their son a child actor, with the condition that it would be temporary. When Vox grew older, he was expected to transition to learning business and other skills, ultimately to take over the family's empire.

So, Vox was never enough for either of his parents. His father thought of him as annoying and unserious due to his talkativeness and exaggerated behaviors, attributing it to growing up surrounded by actors. As for his mother... Vox turned out to be a terrible actor, struggling to convey emotions that weren't bombastic and over-the-top. Being a teenager is humiliating enough, but imagine being a teenager bad at something and forced to do it for a worldwide audience, when the whole production crew is annoyed with you. Fortunately, he grew up to be devilishly handsome (not to be a simp, I just believe someone must be handsome to endure the ethereal punishment of having their face swapped for a TV screen) and entertaining, leading them to make him a TV host and media personality.

Anyway, NPD is all about creating a perfect self and projecting it to the world when you're deeply ashamed of your true self. It means that, no matter what you're doing, you're constantly concerned about how it looks to other people. You constantly play an exhausting game, trying to win gold stars of social admiration for every-fucking-thing, guided by superficial ideals of wealth, perfection, beauty, and, above all, power. One reason Alastor's existence bothers Vox so much is the fact that he cannot comprehend the idea of someone choosing radio over his "objectively better and correct" medium. Vox lacks the ability to understand nuanced sentiments, which ironically makes him thrive in Hell. In this anarchocapitalist, lawless society, survival of the fittest prevails, and this is a game he excels at playing.

Generally, the best approach for individuals with NPD is to pull them out of delusional thinking by confronting their beliefs about the world and themselves with reality (it should be performed by qualified therapist, especially when someone hasn't completed any kind of therapeutic process yet). However, in Hell, Vox's behavior was no longer in violation of social norms; on the contrary, it was highly rewarded. Consequently, he completely lost his shit, became unhinged, and began acting on all his previously suppressed urges. He finally fulfilled all narcissistic power fantasies and became (almost) untouchable. Now, he's ready to kill anyone who questions him, seeing it as threatening to his fragile image of the perfect self.

He exhibits strong bipolar tendencies. Most of the time, he's power-tripping in a semi-maniacal state. Periodically, he undergoes deep, depressive episodes, locking himself up in his apartment and avoiding interaction.

Constantly guarding this fragile image of the perfect self that he built is exhausting. The bigger this image gets, the more fragile it becomes, like a house of cards. And guarding it becomes more and more exhausting. But there's nothing scarier than the idea of the facade falling apart and people seeing him as he is: imperfect and vulnerable, damaged and ashamed, rotten and evil. Deep down, he knows he's unlovable, and it hurts. He knows that true love exists; he craves this ultimate form of admiration and devotion, but it requires vulnerability and honesty, which he's not capable of. He's only vulnerable with Valentino, and only occasionally when he's intoxicated or when Val fucks every last thought out of his body. He's very much a controlling top insecure about his masculinity, so the latter happens rarely.

Also, drugs. Oh, do this man enjoy some coke. Other drugs and booze, not so much; they make him feel less in control. But getting coked up, going out, causing a scene, killing some poor souls, and relishing this feeling of being completely untouchable? Feels so good.

When it comes to Alastor, he hates him because he's jealous. Despite all his efforts—building a perfect persona, a perfect company, perfect entertainment—this stinky, outdated, and boring radio demon gets so much attention and admiration that should be his. Moreover, he feels that Alastor can see right through his bullshit. He's so paranoid about it that he's almost certain Alastor knows about his childhood traumas, about his death, about all his truths, and could one day broadcast it for all people of Hell to hear. So, he needs him dead.

Note: these headcanons (especially Vox's past) are very important part of my fanfiction. Please feel free to use them in your fics but I'll appreciate if you tag me 🩷

Velvette hc | Valentino hc | Vees + Angel hc | VoxVal hc

#vox #vox hazbin hotel #Valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #voxval #staticmoth #headcanon #character analysis #ask

[its-vannah]

Girl, Put Your Records On | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

A/N: I haven't seen any fics with him, so I had to make one. I love his character so much.

Blurb: Being the daughter of a music producer has its perks, and one of those is meeting Daisy Jones and The Six's Eddie Roundtree.

Warnings: Just fluff and a hit of angst, implied intercourse (no detail)

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being the daughter of a music producer had it's perks. For starters, you were able to listen to new albums and singles before anyone else. While the rest of the world waited for upcoming releases, you were already taking the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the phonograph.

Not to mention all the artists and bands you were able to meet. Your father was constantly popping open a bottle of champagne to celebrate his clients to celebrate their upcoming albums and tours.

Although you were too young to drink yourself, it was nice to feel included. Being there with your father, surrounded by new and interesting people with dozens of stories to share.

But being the daughter of a music producer has its downsides, too. On the smaller scale, sometimes your favorite songs wouldn't make the cut. When you were younger, it hit harder. But as you got older, you just accepted it and moved on.

That wasn't the only down that the role came with, however. You were a young, beautiful, kind girl with a heart of gold and a lot of love to give. Not many men in the industry had any problem taking advantage of that.

There was a thrill to it, for them. Sneaking around with their producer's daughter with the possibility of getting caught at any moment. You were sixteen when you had your first love. He told you all the right things, did all the right things. But the night before he left, he tried to convince you to "live in the moment" while leading you to his van.

It didn't take long for you to realize what was happening, so you freed yourself from his grasp, shoving him back and walking back inside your home.

He was too old for you, anyway. He was twenty, and you were still a kid. It wasn't right, but it was the seventies and he was gaining popularity. It didn't matter what he did, he had every girl in America wrapped around his finger. You, however, had made the choice not to be one of them.

A few years later, when you were nineteen, an up and coming group walked inside your father's studio. He was hesitant about letting them record, but he trusted Teddy and gave them a shot, alllowing you to sit inside the sound booth to hear them play.

You could see the nervousness written all over their faces as they got ready to play. They wanted to impress Teddy, and you didn't blame them. He wasn't easy to read.

Reclining in your seat beside Marcus, who gradually increased the volume on the lead vocalist and lowered the sound of the guitars, you smiled as you listened to them play.

By the end of their demo, you were on the edge of your seat waiting to find out whether or not they'd get an offer.

While Teddy went to discuss it with your father, you stepped out of the sound booth and made your way towards the group.

Smiling, you held out a hand to the only woman, who was closest to you when you walked in, introducing yourself, "Hey, I'm Y/N."

Karen gave you a gentle smile, shaking your hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Karen."

The drummer, who was fiddling with his drum sticks, hollered over her, "That's Karen Karen."

Raising a brow, you couldn't help but release a small laugh, "Karen Karen?"

The blonde shot him a look, "Fuck off, Warren."

Warren grinned, nodding his head as a way of greeting you.

Beside him, the lead vocalist looked over at you, "Is there something you need, Samantha?"

"It's Y/N," You corrected, "And I just wanted to say I like your sound. It's different. I think you guys have a good chance of getting a deal."

One of the guitarists, the one with curly hair who had been ogling Karen for the past half hour, smiled up at you from his seat on the amp, "Thank you, Y/N. Our main focus is creating music that people l-"

"For the love of God, Graham, shut up," The vocalist grumbled, turning back towards you, "Look, it's nice to meet you, but we're a bit busy here."

Graham held his hands up in surrender, returning to fiddling with his guitar, mouthing "sorry" to you.

The fifth member of the group, who had been nervously tapping his foot flashed his bandmate an irritated look, "C'mon, Billy, she's just being nice. At least people actually like our music."

"Eddie, all I'm saying is that we need to spend less time socializing and more time figuring out what we do if we don't get this deal."

On that note, you cleared your throat, "You'll get the deal."

Simultaneously, Eddie and Billy spoke over one another, the former asking if you really thought so and the latter asking how in the hell you knew.

"I know Mr. L/N well, and so does Teddy. Look, the last few bands Teddy has invested in haven't been doing too great. But I really think you guys have a chance. I know you guys do."

Eddie gave you a lopsided smile, "They liked us in Pittsburgh, I don't see how this is any different."

Billy glared back at him, "If you'll excuse us, I think we have a few things to discuss."

Nodding, you turned to exit, giving the band one last smile. But before you could step out the door, Teddy came back in with your father in tow.

Teddy looked at the band, "We're giving you a shot, don't blow it."

The band, who Teddy had earlier referred to as The Six, erupted in smiles, hugging each other and patting one another on the back.

Your dad wrapped an arm around you, addressing the band, "I see you've met my daughter?"

Billy's eyes widened a bit. He thought you were just some random kid. But you had been in the sound booth, he should've known better.

Warren, who was very obviously high, nodded, "Yeah, she's hot."

Wincing, Karen glared at him, "She's been very kind, Mr. L/N."

Your dad eyed Warren, kissing you on the head before congratulating the band one last time, kissing you on the forehead, and walking back to his office.

Once he was out of sight, Eddie took one of Warren's drumsticks out of his hands and smacked him on the head with it, muttering, "Dumbass, that was her dad."

The drummer's mouth formed an "O", "You think he knows?"

"Jesus Christ, Warren," Karen said, shaking her head before turning to Billy, "And you, you need to get the stick out of your ass."

A look of pride settled on Eddie's face. You could tell the two of them didn't see eye to eye just from the small interactions you had with them.

Moving towards the exit, you waved them goodbye, "I'll see you guys around."

Warren and Graham waved happily, Karen and Billy nodded, and Eddie tilt his head to the side with a smile.

Once you were out of earshot, Karen looked back at Eddie, "Jealous, are you, Roundtree?"

"Piss off, Karen."

Warren looked between the two of them, connecting the dots, "Psst, Karen, I think he's jealous."

Rolling her eyes, she flashed him an irritated smile, "Yeah, I figured that out, thanks."

------------------------------------------------------------

Billy: As soon as we got the news and packed up, I ran to the nearest phone to tell Camila. She had always believed in us, and now everything was falling into place.

Karen: I think I went back and got drunk in my room afterwards. We may have gone out to eat, I don't remember. We had been living gig to gig, I was just happy to have an income.

Camila: It was the first time in a while that Billy really seemed happy with how the band was going. He had always believed in it, but I really think it helped him to see that everything was coming into place. That we wouldn't be living in a shack forever.

Warren: I don't even remember being in the studio. I was in my twenties, I was doing anything I could get my hands on. Drugs, alcohol, women. I was just along for the ride.

Karen: I could still kill Warren for telling the producer's daughter, Y/N, that she was hot in front of her dad.

Warren: We all thought it. Especially Eddie. I was just the one who said it.

Eddie: There was something about Y/N that was different. She wasn't just a newfound fan, she believed in us from the start. She and Camila were the first people to have our record in their hands. As for Warren's comment to her dad... She was beautiful, still is, I just think he could've handled it better. A lot better. By not saying anything.

Graham: It was nice to know that someone outside of the band and Teddy believed in us. Moving out to LA meant that we were starting over. In Pittsburgh, nearly the whole city had heard of us. At least, the people our age.

Eddie: That day was a turning point for the band.

Camila: There was no going back after that. They started recording and within a month, they were on their first tour.

------------------------------------------------------------

You came to every recording session The Six had, excitedly listening to their songs and giving input. You studied the way Marcus moved the volume and reverb, making a mental note of it. What he did had always fascinated you, and he was willing to teach you. It was one of the perks of being F/N L/N's daughter. People bent over bsckwards to make you happy.

Over the course of their time recording, you went out for drinks a few times with them.

You met Camila, who you adored, and quickly became friends with. You wouldn't have changed any of it for the world.

Well, except one thing.

From the moment you met Eddie Roundtree, your heart hadn't stopped fluttering, skipping a beat every time he walked into the room.

Warren constantly teased the two of you about it, suggesting different ways to release the tension between the two of you.

Karen kicked him under the table, giving him a look that sent fear down his spine.

It made the moment awkward for a minute, but the band could sense it was bound to happen.

Eddie was used to being pushed around by Billy, who was by far the most popular and well-known member of The Six. But for once, he was first place. With you.

The two of you often nursed a glass of champagne, talking to one another at the bar while Graham attempted to flirt with Karen, who wound up finding another guy to hook up with, and Warren fell into a crowd of women.

He took a sip, looking down at you, "What's it like, getting to hear new music before anyone else? Not just ours, but in general."

"It's incredible. Don't get me wrong, being in the studio so much has its ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. There's nothing else I can imagine myself doing. That's why I want to work in the sound booth."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Marcus offered to teach me a while back. I just wanted to wait until you guys went on tour. I just want to focus on The Six, just taking it all in."

Eddie bit his bottom lip, "So... You and Marcus...?"

You shook your head, "Are friends. My mother is friends with his. We grew up together, he's just a few years older. He's protective, like how I imagine an older brother would be."

He nodded, "So, are you seeing anyone?"

"No," You let out a shaky breath, not meeting his eyes, "Are you?"

"No, are—I already asked you that," He said nervously, swirling his glass in his hand, "Do you... Have an interest in... You know, seeing anyone?"

"It depends on who it is," You said, heat rising to your cheeks, "And you? Anyone on your mind?"

He set down his glass, looking at you, "There is."

Meeting his eyes, you turned your back to the counter, leaning on it for support, "What's she like?"

"You have a mirror?"

You burst out laughing, "Is that your best line, Eddie? C'mon, you can do better than that."

He put his head in his hands, embarrassed.

Pressing a hand to his back, you used your other to pry his head away from his hands, "Don't worry, you can make it up to me."

Raising a brow, he tilted his head, "And how can I do that?"

"Pick me up on Friday at six."

"That's the day before tour starts."

"I know."

He nodded, "Wear something nice."

"Don't I always," You tease, stumbling into his chest.

He lifted the glass from your hands, "You know what I mean. I do, however, think you've had enough of this. C'mon, I'll drive you home"

------------------------------------------------------------

Warren: I was so happy to see Eddie leaving with Y/N. He was growing up, leaving the nest. It was about time he got laid.

Eddie: I drove her home. She had driven herself, but I was worried with her having three glasses. Truthfully, I just wanted to see her get home safe. And she did. I dropped her off at her door, walked her up, and waited until she got inside before I left. Once I got back in the car, it hit me—I had a date with Y/N.

Karen: I think he was more excited about the date than the record deal.

Eddie: It had just been a big few months. Moving to LA, getting a deal, meeting Y/N. Things were finally going my way.

------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie: Long distance relationships weren't easy by any means. I was the one who had to call, since we were constantly moving around. It strained us a bit, but she was able to go to a few of our concerts and I got to see her, take her out a few times.

Karen: Y/N visited us while we were in the northeastern part of the states. She stayed with us for a week and a half. And I never got any damn sleep while she was with Eddie. They could've been quieter, but I guess it was young love.

Eddie: She had her own hotel room during her time staying with us. Her dad set it up. We'd just stay in mine talking to one another.

Warren: Eddie swore nothing happened in his hotel room when he was alone with her, but I was on the other side of the wall. Look, I was pretty high, but it'd be hard to forget that. I may have been the one to call her hot, but he was the one that took it three, four steps further. Good for him, though.

Eddie: It was only when we got back from the tour that things started to go downhill with me and Y/N.

Camila: After I gave birth to Julia, Billy checked into Rehab. I was on my own for a while. But when the band came back, they were there to help me. Julia enjoyed time with Uncle Graham and Eddie, and Y/N whenever she was off work.

Graham: Eddie and I were there a few times a week just helping out and checking in on Camila and Julia. I loved that kid more than anything. We'd just sit out in the grass and I'd sing to her.

Eddie: Camila needed all the help she could get, especially with Billy not being there. Not that he would've done much anyway, to be honest. I tried to be there for her and Julia in any way I could. I didn't realize that it would tear Y/N and I apart.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Eddie, I barely ever get to see you. Can't you go one day without seeing Camila and Julia? You can stay with me. It's better than that shack."

"That shack is my home, whether it's shit or not, Y/N," He grumbled, "Camila needs all the help she can get with Julia. She's only a few months old."

"Her mother is with her, Eddie. She's got her mom, Graham, the whole band really. It's not that I don't want you to be with them, I just want to see you. I never get to see you."

Eddie sighed, "Y/N, they mean everything to me."

"They're your bandmates, I get it, I just—"

"Y/N..."

It was written all over his face. He wasn't just talking about The Six.

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Karen: We'd all known, except for maybe Billy and Camila, that Eddie was in love with Camila. We just thought that he had put those feelings aside when he met Y/N.

Warren: Out of all the girls Eddie had dated, which hadn't been much, she was my favorite. She was fun, she kept up with us, she was passionate about music and the band. When they broke up, I nearly snapped the guys neck. And I'm not a violent guy. She just deserved better than whatever the hell that was.

Eddie: Camila and Billy were married. I would never have come in the way of that. At the same time, it wasn't fair to Y/N. I loved her with my whole being, but I still had some unresolved feelings for Camila that started stiring when Billy was gone. It's wrong, and I know that, but it wasn't fair.

Graham: Eddie was an idiot for what happened. I remember when he came back from their first date. He swore up and down that they'd get married one day.

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When the band broke up, everyone went their separate ways. Karen continued touring, this time without Daisy and The Six. Warren got married and started working on boats, which became a passion for him. Billy stepped away from music and settled into life with Camila and his daughters and Graham continued working in the music industry, starting his own family. Daisy recovered from her addictions, and wound up adopting kids of her own.

These all took years to play out. But not for Eddie.

As soon as the band was over with, the first thing he did was buy a ticket to LA and knock on Y/N's door.

He explained everything and told her he loved her, he always had.

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Y/N Roundtree: Eddie proposed to me the night he showed up on my doorstep. He told me he couldn't imagine a life without me. I was touched.

Eddie: But she said no.

Y/N: I loved him, but I told him it would take time. We still had so much we didn't know about each other. It had been ages since I had seen him. I didn't even know that the Six had split up until he told me. He was back in LA that fast after the split.

Eddie: We did get to know each other, though. And I proposed almost a year later. We got married a few months after that. And the rest is history.

Y/N: It was a quiet ceremony. Eddie didn't want Billy there, and thought it may be a bit off putting for me to have Camila there. But I knew how much he cared about her and the girls, so we extended an invite.

Camila: Billy and Eddie never really saw eye to eye, and with Billy finally getting comfortable with family life, I didn't think it would be good to thrust him back into that.

Eddie: Y/N was a little upset they chose not to come, but understood. If you invite half a family, it doesn't exactly work.

Billy: I was surprised Eddie found the balls to get married.

Y/N: It wound up just being Eddie's immediate family, mine, Marcus, Warren, and Graham. Daisy showed up a few days earlier to congratulate us on our wedding, bringing a guitar with her as a gift. She just didn't think being back in that environment would be good for her. There would be too many questions.

Daisy: Just because the band was over doesn't mean the music couldn't continue. Eddie was a good guitarist and Y/N knew everything about managing sound and rhythms, so I figured it was an appropriate gift. I was really happy for them.

Eddie: Karen was touring at the time and wasn't able to make it, but she visited once the tour was over and stayed a few days.

Y/N: I preferred having a smaller wedding, with the people we knew the most.

Warren: They had great alcohol. I wasn't high during the reception, so I was actually able to enjoy it. I even met my wife there.

Graham: It made me long for a relationship, honestly. But it also made me realize I need to focus on myself first. I didn't want to just settle to settle.

Y/N: Our son was born a year and a half after we got married and music was automatically a big part of his life. He'd sit on Eddie's lap at not even a year old while Ed played the guitar. I still have pictures of them back then on the mantle.

Grant Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's oldest son: I remember when I decided I wanted to pursue music. Dad sat me down and explained what happens when you achieve fame and how to handle it. Mom told me that I needed to take it one step at a time and really enjoy my childhood.

Farrah Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's daughter: Grant never stopped playing that damn guitar mom gave him.

Grant: Sometimes I played just to drive Farrah and Eli crazy. I never stopped.

Eli Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's youngest son: I wanted to be just like Grant when I was younger. He was my cooler, older brother. He even taught me how to play the guitar and I could carry a tune, but my stage fright got in the way of anything beyond that.

Eddie: Grant went into the music field, Farrah pursued modeling and is now acting, and Eli is just now graduating from high school, planning to attend college this fall.

Y/N: I'll always be grateful for Daisy Jones and The Six, but I've got to be honest—I'm even happier it ended when it did.

Eddie: Everything happens for a reason, and for me, it couldn't have ended at a better time.

#eddie roundtree #edward roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfic #fanfic #fic #x reader #taylor jenkins reid #amazon prime

[akanesheep]

Their most toxic trait: some NSFW, but not explicit.

These toxic traits existed before they fell and became demons… or in the case of some, before you met them… in the case of the brothers, they’re only more intense after their fall.

Lucifer:

His pride… as if it wasn’t already a given, but it’s really more how his pride limits him. He can’t freely apologize even when he knows he’s wrong. He tends to be arrogant when he needs to be compassionate. If you are able to cope with his prideful and arrogant front, inside, he’s putty in your hand.

Luci won’t be able to be a pubic simp for you. He will bond your hand and link arms with you, and even give you a chaste kiss, but he has to maintain the image of the competent right hand of Diavolo at all times when in public. He won’t be able to put up with silly chaos when you’re out and about. All of that is for at home, when it’s just the two of you. Honestly, it’s like you’re dating two different men. The public Lucifer, and the private one.

In private, you laugh together at silly word puns, he chuckles as you recount his brothers antics. He blushes fiercely when you kiss him, and he teases you with a wicked grin as he pounds you into his mattress. Loving the look of your fucked out face. His soft, gentle eyes and voice as he takes care of you afterward.

If you can handle public Lucifer, the private is worth it.

Mammon:

Our greedy man is known for being many things… but his toxic trait isn’t his greed, or even his theft, or possessiveness and jealousy. It’s his feeling of inadequacy. Mammon thinks he’ll never measure up to Lucifer, or Diavolo, or anyone really. He even feels inadequate in comparison to his younger brothers. It’s one reason he leans into his sin so much. If he can’t be the smart one, the dependable one, the pretty one, the strong one; then he’ll be the bad one.

As I said before, he’s the one that would struggle the most in a poly relationship, because he compares himself to everyone and only sees his faults. He will ask what you like about your other partners that he doesn’t have. He’ll even attempt (poorly) to meet those things, not understanding his own qualities.

Instead of feeding his insecurities by going into his questions directly, redirect him with all of the things you love about him, things only he can offer. Not only will you prevent his insecurity from spiraling, but you’ll lift his confidence in himself and help him see that he is vital to you.

Even if you aren’t a poly MC, he’ll still find himself lacking. You’ll do the same process regardless of how many people in your bed.

Love your first man, he needs all your words of affirmation and praise.

Levi:

Another obvious one. His envy. He’s actively jealous of everyone around him, and like Mammon, unable to see his true worth. He does have parts of himself that he is confident about. Technology, and strategy. He knows he’s good with these, but even so, he struggles to voice himself. Feeling like he’ll only be mocked and scorned even if he tries.

This man lacks confidence in every area. Especially in himself. You will constantly be reassuring him… correcting him when he starts downing himself. Let’s be honest, that is HARD to do. I mean, it’s easy for awhile… but it can be draining to have to constantly battle his own mental demon.

Help him see who he really is. Help him find worth in everything he does. He can improve, but his sin will always be a fight for him.

His switch to Admiral Levi however can be head spinning. It’s such a change that it can take your breath away, and it’s hot as hell to have him suddenly fill with confidence and authority.

You know that this part of him is real and always there, it’s just a matter of getting these two parts of himself to coexist note freely.

Satan:

Anger isn’t this man’s only toxic trait. But it isn’t the one that’s the biggest issue. He works on his anger daily, and with you around he doubled down on it.

No, what is more important is the imposter syndrome that he has. The ‘copy’ of Lucifer issues he’s been struggling with. The unwanted flashbacks to things he never saw, the dreams of a life he never lived… he wakes up from those panting, frustrated, and having to take time to sort out his own existence from Lucifer’s. The morning’s after those dreams, he’s irritated, he avoids speaking and prefers solitude.

He isn’t a hard demon to figure out. With some coaxing he’ll finally talk to you about the dreams, and about the confusion and disoriented state he wakes up in. Hold him, let him talk and run your fingers through his hair. He will feel more centered and calm, why do you always make him feel like his heart is at peace, less chaotic and spiraling that before?

Asmo:

This man is so narcissistic that sometimes you wonder if he is actually complimenting you, or simply complimenting how you look beside him. Like an accessory. That being said, this isn’t his most toxic trait.

His toxic trait is his viscous tongue when angry. Satan may be the avatar of wrath, but Asmo’s spewed venom when he loses his temper is borderline abusive. He rarely loses his temper, but when he does, every word will drip with spite and he takes the low blows. Once his temper cools, he is distraught that he would say such terrible things to you. Of course one can’t truly take back the things they say out loud, and if not handled carefully it could be enough to end a relationship after the first fight. Thankfully you two have talked about his lashing out before, when he mentioned how it had happened before, example given was a fight he had gotten into with Solomon. Quite eye opening, as neither of these two men are exactly anger prone. To picture an argument between the two was impossible. You confirmed the details of the fight with Solomon… to think these two could say such hurtful things toward each other and still speak at all, much less be as close as they are? Amazing.

The eye opener is when Asmo tells you that his words are usually his own insecurities thrown onto another person. His physical nitpicking comes from a part of himself he’s insecure about. That does not make it okay, and he knows that, and has worked hard to break and stop it all together. He’s gotten much better about it, but he worries that it will happen again.

Beel:

This sweetheart is mild tempered, mild mannered, and a huge cuddle-bug. What on earth could be his hidden toxic trait??

I can’t think of one. He’ll eat anything food related that’s around… so no food prepping… and his resting bitch face can be intimidating to some… but that is hardly a toxic trait.

If you HAD to find something, you’d go with his over protectiveness, and his fear of choosing between his loved ones. He’s lost his sister, because he chose his twin. What would happen if someone tried to attack you and Belphie? Would he make the choice to let you die while he saved his twin, or would he let his twin die to save you? It’s a paralyzing fear… what if he freezes up and you both die?

It’s why he pushes his physical limits. He never wants to lose his loved ones again. It’s too much for him.

Belphie:

If you haven’t guessed already, it’s his unresolved misplaced anger.

He has misplaced anger toward the human race for Lilith’s death. Although he’s made an exception for you, it can pop up unexpectedly. Think of it like a racist person being in a relationship with someone of a different race. He gets uncomfortable being around humans, during an argument he’ll make some disparaging remark about humans, etc…

He has unresolved anger toward Lucifer. Some of which Lucifer has nurtured to keep Belphie going. There is a small part of him that blames Lucifer for the war. He knows it’s not Lucifer’s fault how things turned out, because they were trying to save their sister. It was going to happen regardless.

He would never admit it, but he also has unresolved anger toward Beel. Why would Beel save him over Lilith?? He knows he doesn’t know how he would have reacted in the same situation, but he can’t help it. This is survivor’s guilt.

If wanted I’ll do one for Dia, Barbs, Simeon, and Solomon. But I’ve held onto this one for too long before finishing.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus! #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor