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#this brought back so much memories god
sketchy-galaxy · 1 year
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finally achieving my life long dream of being Ms. Barbie in 'Barbie and the Nutcracker'
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dandyshucks · 2 months
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I've been so focused on the robot/human romance in this audiobook I've been listening to that I.... forgot about the whole plot where they have to rescue the grandfather... 😭
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akkivee · 1 year
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ichikuu haul 🤭
#this is vee speaking#excuse the mess of wires lol i was playing video games#there was an online ichikuu event at the beginning of february that i lurked around in#and realised there were some ichikuu doujins i hadn’t bought so i did lol#like i visited the event because i wanted the anthology (the sticker sheet is covering it up but look how MASSIVE)#but you can’t expect ME to not shill when all this content is in my face lol#i’m very excited to read the one on the far right the sample pages brought much concern lol#but there’s supernatural kuukou still finding his way back to ichiro it looks really good and really painful lol#ichikuu artists are really inspired lol i’m still crying over this set of doujin where ichiro and kuukou kinda have a same dream experience#and ​they’re watching their friendship unfold and end alone in a theatre#god it was a big showcase how their break up really fcked them up tho like ichiro’s half had him musing he probably loved kuukou#(crossed out was he definitely loved him)#and then in his dream he and kuukou are laughing like old times and when he asked kuukou if he had ever liked him#kuukou responded ‘no i’ve always hated you’ BECAUSE THATS HOW ICHIRO THINKS KUUKOU FEELS ABOUT HIM STILL#IM NOT DOING THIS COMIC JUSTICE IT HAD ME FCKED UP FOR AN ENTIRE DAY#THE SETUP THEM BONDING AGAIN WITH THEIR HAPPY MEMORIES ON SCREEN ONLY TO BE HEARTBROKEN AGAIN BECAUSE THATS JUST HOW ICHIRO PERCEIVES KUUKOU#*cries* i wanna draw a fcked up/painful ichikuu story too………………………#c: ichibro#c: kuukou👑
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oseike · 11 months
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Re-reading mdzs finally because I have enough brain space to focus on words and I reached the part where wwx finds out about the rabbits in Gusu and hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh //clutches my chest
#mdzs#god it's played off as a funny thing for wwx and it truly does amuse him#but as a person reading it the second time you come to realize what those rabbits probably meant to lwj#another trace of wwx that lwj gently cultivated and cared for because he couldn't let his memory die#and it was so personal to lwj specifically#it wasn't as if rabbits were anything but a passing joke to wwx#he'd found them trying to hunt pheasants and never brought them up again#but to lwj they were one of a precious few memories lwj was able to think back on fondly#an actual gift from wwx even if wwx did it in jest and with little thought#a moment where wwx said he wanted friendship#and lwj rebuffed him and bodily threw him out of the room#how much did that act haunt him later?#looking at those rabbits that wwx had offered in friendship and knowing he had pushed wwx away#and asking himself what might have gone differently if he had accepted wwx as a friend instead#wondering if instead of pushing him away so much he had chosen a friendship if that could have altered those moments in the future#where wwx didn't trust him#and pushed lwj away#even though wwx was deeply pained and losing himself#even though wwx needed help so desperately and lwj was willing to do anything to give it to him#yet wwx rejected him#and it all led to lwj leaving him#and then wwx going back to yiling alone#if instead he had agreed to go to gusu and be treated by lwj could lwj have saved him?#and it all circles back to this moment so long ago with a pair of rabbits and an offer of friendship#is it torture for lwj to see them and constantly remind himself of that moment#perhaps it is another way of him doing penance#and strengthening his own resolve to never push wwx away again should they ever be able to meet#and if they don't get to meet#then at least lwj will be made to remember and relive that memory#when wwx was vibrant and alive and not tainted by the twisted resentment of the undead or by the events that came later
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paperfemale · 2 years
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my sweet baby
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levitheeldritch · 6 days
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Current emotion: HATE TOWARDS THE AMMO BANDITS
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berryblu-soda · 1 year
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almost traumadumped in a random shitpost someone reblogged lmaooo good thing my braincell kicked in, we stay silly boiis >:3c!!!
(¡WARNING!!!! i uhhh... traumadumped in this post´s tags instead like a dumbass!!!)
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If It All Fell
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??
a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3
Part 2 ♡
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.
Gods, your head hurt. 
A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head. 
“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”
You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake. 
You took a pause. 
And then another. 
Who was the last person you had seen? 
“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar. 
The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.” 
“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?” 
“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.” 
“Witches?” 
“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?” 
The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about. 
Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?” 
Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone. 
You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck. 
“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?” 
Another lapse in silence. 
“My Gods…” 
Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes. 
But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop. 
You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.
“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle. 
“Azriel, she—” 
“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in. 
There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in. 
You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them. 
You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to. 
“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed. 
Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.” 
Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head. 
Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you. 
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”  
“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.” 
His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.
That wasn’t right. None of this felt right. 
The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right. 
Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering. 
It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out. 
Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets. 
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 
When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline. 
“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.” 
It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand. 
But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them. 
Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?” 
You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud. 
“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.” 
Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.
The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.” 
“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness. 
“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.” 
A twig snapped beneath a boot.
Azriel growled low in his chest. 
The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused. 
You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this. 
“Stay away from her.” 
“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.” 
A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.” 
Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain. 
Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.
Part 2 ♡
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mickyschumacher · 3 months
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𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒  .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!
Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).
As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.
"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of
You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.
Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."
You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.
Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."
You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...
Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"
Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.
While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.
While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.
You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.
Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?
Wait what?
"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.
You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"
Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.
APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.
Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.
Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."
Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...
A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"
Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.
The best chocolates for sex in 2023!
Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!
Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.
You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"
You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.
Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.
You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.
To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.
Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).
Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.
But all goods things must come to an end.
Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.
With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"
A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.
His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.
Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.
Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.
In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..
"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.
You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"
In any other moment, Ossar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.
You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.
A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.
Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.
Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.
Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.
His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.
You had completely lost yourself.
Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.
Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.
You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.
Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.
You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.
Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.
Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."
You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.
You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.
He was distracting you.
"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."
Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.
You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."
"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.
His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"
You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"
The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."
"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.
"Yep! Precisely."
Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.
His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.
You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."
Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.
His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.
Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."
"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.
Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.
Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.
He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.
You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.
Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...
"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.
But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...
Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.
You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.
Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"
Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.
"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.
For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.
You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.
"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.
"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."
You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.
"Oh..."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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neo-nomatrix · 3 months
Text
Gold chain beneath your shirt, the shirt that you let me wear home
Luke Castellan x reader
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word count: little over 1k
summary: no matter how hard you try to forget, there are signs of luke everywhere
a/n: smutty, angsty
He betrayed you, it wasn’t a dream or a stupid vision. He really betrayed you.
When Luke first brought up getting revenge on the gods you thought he was joking. He hadn’t mentioned “kronos’ army” , afraid that would be too much to jump onto you. You realize it far too late, that he was very much serious about his plan.
“You can join me. It’ll be just us again, remember? I can’t protect you,” He says, looking at you lovingly.
Luke had found you before departing camp, for good. He gave you a last chance to join him and the army. All while telling you what he had done to Percy.
“You tried to poison percy!” You yelled at him in the heat of the moment.
“I did what I had to do!” He screamed at you.
You backed up into the corner of your cabin, everyone else from your cabin gone. The few year rounders somewhere else.
“I’m not joining you Luke! That would be betraying everyone I love!” You yell back.
“What about me?! Huh?! You have hated the gods ever since I met you, what happened?” He questions.
“I may hate them, but I could never do this. I’m not a monster,” You quietly say, shaking your head.
“Fine. Make the wrong choice. But I won't be able to save you when the time comes,” He tells you cryptically.
You watch him walk away from you. You debate turning him in, but how? He’s stronger than you, faster, you know you can’t. All you can do is watch him walk away, possibly destroying both your futures. As he opens the door he looks back at you one last time.
——————
You’ve been rather alone at camp since summer ended. Percy and Annabeth return home while Grover goes off on his adventure for Pan. The only friends you have there are small acquaintances and your siblings. You decided you’re not quite ready to return home. You’ve had run-ins with monsters previously outside of camp and you aren’t prepared to deal with them again. Partially because your mind is flooded with Luke.
With the extra amounts of free time you find yourself rearranging your cabin and area. Sorting through your clothes over and over again. This time you find something you hadn’t previously, a thick plaid blue flannel. lukes. You pick it up and hold it in front of you. Memories flood in your head of Luke.
It’s mid June, you and luke’s favorite time for a swim in the lake. You find a lake hidden behind a forest of trees that’s quiet, perfect for you two. You were wandering in the forest together when you first found it. Hand in hand. The glimmering sun makes the water sparkle.
You start taking off your shirt and jean shorts while smiling widely.
“C’mon!” You laugh at Luke.
“You’re crazy,” he laughs at you, taking off his flannel and cargos.
He holds your hand as he pulls you into the crystal clear water. You both smile as the warm water touches your skin. Luke holds strongly onto your waist with one hand. The other acts like a paddle to push you into the middle of the lake. Your hands wrap about his neck, playing with his gold chain which has a feather charm hanging off of it.
He kisses your neck softly, roaming his calloused hands around your waist. You comb your fingers through his brown curls. Your thumb grazed over his scar below his right eye. You press a kiss on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He drops his right hand underneath the water and pulls your underwear aside. His long fingers teasing you entrance.
“Don’t tease,” you whisper against his lips.
He smiles and plunges one finger into you, letting out a breath of air as you moan. He kisses the sweet spot on your neck. Your mouth hangs open and you grind onto his fingers.
“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he mumbles.
“I’m a good girl right?” you moan softly.
“Are you? I don’t think so, baby,” he frowns, slowing his fingers down.
“W-what? no- no i’m a good girl, the best,” you say, eyes furrowing at his response.
“Hmm, maybe you should prove to me how good you are,” He whispers back, smirking.
“I’ll do anything,” you desperately say.
“Make yourself cum on my fingers,” he orders you, moving your hips against his bulge.
You grind your hips against his fingers. “You’re like a fucking dog in heat,” he laughs at you.
“I’m gonna- Luke i’m gonna,” you whine.
“Let go baby, be a good girl,” He smiles.
You cum harshly on his fingers, he slowly pumps in and out riding you out. He continues pressing kisses against you, his over hand roaming your body.
“Good girl, my good girl.”
You both get out of the water tired. Allowing the sun to soak into you, drying you off. You put your shorts back on before realizing your shirt has gotten mud on it.
“Luke! My shirt!” you cry out to him.
“Here, take this,” He laughs at you, throwing his flannel at you.
You smile back at him, putting the flannel over your shoulders. You go up to him and wrap your arms around his tall figure.
“Wish we could stay here forever,” You mumble.
“I think we can work something out.”
——————
You stare at the shirt, smiling. You wonder what it would be like if he never left, if it could be just you forever. You hug the shirt longingly, going to your bunk and wrapping yourself in the flannel. You feel a hard metal in the pocket, his chain. You hold it in your palm; small tears pooling in your eyes.
“Fuck you Luke. Why’d you have to do this?” You look out the window, angry and sad.
You wish for a different ending. You wish he stayed. You wish you had gone with him, maybe it would’ve just been you two. You wish you had stayed in that moment forever. You wish it wasn’t true. You wish he hadn’t left.
You love Luke Castellan, even though you wish you dont. You hate yourself for falling for it. You hate him for making you fall for him.
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neochan · 3 months
Text
≡ 𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒! (𝟏𝟖+)
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「 MEMBERS 」 ⋮ mark lee, huang renjun, lee jeno, na jaemin, lee haechan, zhong chenle, park jisung
≣ content warning ⋮ perverted, depraved, & taboo thoughts, nerd!mark, cnc / dubcon, innocence stealer!chenle, somnophilia, mentions of weed usage as a form of coercion, too strong!jeno, manhandling, rough!jeno, degradation, religious sacrilege, corrupt church boy!jaemin, slight humiliation, corruption, ra!renjun, manipulative!renjun, cocaine usage.
≣ a.note ⋮ i'm smoking weed and listening to old hiphop, what else was i supposed to do other than write these cute little perv drabbles :) give me a like, a follow, or a reblog.
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⩩ mark lee ⋮ so what if he's a 'nerd'. he doesn't care if you make fun of him in class with all your friends. he shrugs it off like no big deal. it really wasn't a big deal, until you brought up his dick size. see, mark isn't one of those guys whose ego gets shot from small dick jokes. but when the joke leaves your pretty little mouth, well something shifts in the pit of his stomach. he still shrugs it off though, until you're walking home from class, skirt swishing back and forth just barely covering the swell of your ass. good little girls should know better... it was easy, really. clamping a hand over your lips puckered in a silent scream. and then to drag you back to his car. oh, it was so, so easy. in fact, you really wanted it. the way you spread your legs, revealing a patch of arousal on the seat of your lacy panties. how you willingly helped him slip them to the side. the way you moaned his name when he slid into your puffy cunt, tits pressing against his chest and eyes locked on his. you begged for him to keep going. for him to go harder. so he did. again, and again, and again. until you could barely walk when he dumped you outside the front of your dorm. but sure enough, you stayed quiet in class the next day...
⩩ huang renjun ⋮ renjun has an addiction. it's not porn - not technically. it's not cocaine, or nicotine. he's not an alcoholic, yet still, he felt the withdrawal all too much. he was addicted to you. or, your body, rather. he dreamed of it, hands reaching up to cup your tits, cock sunk deep in your pussy, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth as you lost yourself on him. and when he woke up, aching and hard, he had no choice but to pathetically jerk off to the remnants of the memory. he thought about putting cameras in your room, maybe the womens showers, to capture you. something he can have as a keepsake of this obsession. see, he had access. he was your resident advisor. he could do that. but then he found out from a little birdie that his star resident in room two oh twelve used her daddies money to buy coke off her dealer boyfriend. see that...that was the key. all he had to do was used that as bait to convince you. and he did. one night, at a stupid party he was supposed to shut down, he saw you snort a line off the living room table. next thing he knew, you were upstairs, tears welling in your eyes, pleading with him not to tell. you would do anything. anything.
⩩ lee jeno ⋮ really, his strength was his best asset. but he's never had someone put up this much of a fight. seriously, after one good hair pull and a hand around the throat, girls usually let up. but you... you were fun. you were a challenge. you push back, hands slapping against his chest to combat him. all he does is snarl and shove harder, pressing your back against the kitchen counter. his biceps flex with the exertion of grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the marble. you thrash around still, until he twists your body so sharply, you cry out. he chuckles, "god i love you." he presses his stiffening cock against you, circling his hips to gain some sort of friction, "feel that? you're driving me crazy." a few half-hearted attempts at getting free does nothing for you, instead, it spins you around so now your chest was pressed flat against the cold surface. he transfers your wrists into one giant hand, and uses his other to yank down your bottoms. "...and you're soaked. fuck, y/n. gonna give you what you need. gonna fuck this stupid attitude outta you, yeah?" your walls flutter around his uninvited fingers, "ahhh, you like that, you sick fuck. want me to fuck you into submission. make you a real good girl for me. gonna train you to take me, and only me." he doesn't even feel you resist anymore, because you give up. you let him use your body until he's spent, and even then, you let him use your mouth. anything for him. anything for jeno.
⩩ na jaemin ⋮ he wasn't a god. but at this moment, with his entire world peering up through wet lashes, on bruised knees...well, he surely felt like one. it didn't help that he stood overtop your broken figure on the edge of the alter. he caresses your jaw and gives you a smile full of pearly white teeth that gleam in the stained glass shadows, "speak." with tears welling in your eyes at the command, it takes a second, but eventually your hoarse voice echoes out, "forgive me father for i have sinned." you see, jaemin wasn't a priest, but he took your confessions as if he was one. he wanted you to bare your soul to him. your perverted, depraved, sick thoughts. he doesn't speak though, just cocks an eyebrow and crouches down so that he was eye level. you continue, "i-, this is so...embarrassing, gosh, i don't..." he gives your jaw a squeeze, making the words tumble out, "i did it again. i... i touched myself again..it's wrong, i- i know, but he, you...plague my mind." your voice quiets the longer his gaze burns into you. but nothing compares to the image that burns brighter in his mind. your innocent fingers slipping between plush thighs, jaemin being the temptation you couldn't withstand. it made him feel fucking good. "it's okay darling, god forgives you, i forgive you..." he stands up again and reaches a hand down to toy with the buckle of his belt, "but with sin comes punishment." he undoes the latch and slowly slips it from the belt loops of his dress pants. the sound makes you flinch, a whisper escaping your pouted lips, "oh god." heat surges through his veins, almost bringing him to his knees, "no angel, i'm not god. i'll be more forgiving than any god. i'll be gentle, i'll liberate you from all sin. i'll make you good. my darling, i'll make you pure again."
⩩ lee haechan ⋮ yeah, he did it on purpose, so what. technically, he didn't force you to inhale, he simply stuck the blunt between your fingers and called it a day. admittedly, you did exactly what he wanted, but he chalked that up to good luck, and the devil on his side. watching you slowly revert to a rambling, squirmy mess made his cock stir in his jeans. and when you got all cuddly, snuggling up to his chest and dragging him closer, well, what else was he supposed to do other than stick his tongue in your mouth and push you back against the arm of the couch. you came on to him, really. either way, the night led with his tongue down your throat, and his hand up your skirt. and still, when he pushes your panties to the side and slips a finger into your cunt, his suspicions are confirmed. your arousal dripped down his wrists, a testament to how much you truly wanted him. really, he was doing you a service. an act of kindness. "be still baby" he growled, forcing your legs wider apart. you whimpered and whined, body holding still but head rolling on your shoulders. "hyuckie.." you kept mewling, and with each sound of his name, he grew harder and harder. it felt like he might burst if he didn't bury his cock in you right this minute. so he does. sloppily, because he was high too, but he does. and it's slow, and messy, and sick. and he loved every fucking second. god, he can't wait to do this to you, no, with you, again.
⩩ zhong chenle ⋮ stealing innocence, robbing naivety, corrupting purity... whatever people call that, chenle calls a normal everyday thought. he hasn't really fucked you yet, only teased you. he's coerced you into letting him touch your cunt, but only the soft skin on the outside. you've let him touch your breasts, but never the sensitive bud in the center. you also let him toy with your ass one time, but the second he tried to slip a finger inside, you pushed him off and told him to wait. nothing could happen before marriage. but chenle was tired of waiting. he was bored of watching you through the camera in the shower. sick of touching himself beside your sleeping figure - the only time he could shift your legs in your sleep to poke at your clothed cunt. just rubbing you through the satin material of your pajama bottoms got him off, but he needed more. this time, he was able to wriggle your shorts down around your ankles, and what a sight it was. oh he was gonna have so much fun. one finger, two fingers, his tongue, eventually working his way up to the tip of his cock. pushing in, not too much to make you stir... just enough to tease himself. you were so tight, so untouched. it was obvious he was your first, and it took everything in him to hold back. tomorrow night...tomorrow night will be the night he fucks you full, until you're leaking his cum. until you're his. ruined for him only.
⩩ park jisung ⋮ jisung hates how you think of him. not just you, but everyone really. see, he's not just the maknae. he doesn't want the baby voice, or the coddling, or the fucking head pats. if you really knew what he was capable of, maybe you'd think twice before treating him like a kid all the time. if you could see the way he fucks his fist, fingers twisted in the sheets of his bed, or knuckles jammed between his teeth... the things he thought about; you sitting on his cock, forced to take every inch of him, even when the tears well over the brim of your eyelashes. cunt full of his fingers while he sucked and nipped at your breasts. the bruises he'd leave on every inch of your skin. how he fantasizes about pushing you to the floor and stuffing his cock down your throat until you were thrashing for just a small breath of air. he doesn't get off on hurting you, no, he could never do that. but making you see just how much stronger he was.. how he could force you onto your knees, and rough you up a bit until your swollen lips screamed his name. well, maybe then you'd stop treating him like some dumb kid.
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≣ taglist ⋮ @hykwrld-main @peachjaem00 @rainyjeno @be-my-sunrise @revehae
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illyrianbitch · 2 months
Text
And I'm Thinking About Your Lips — Part Two
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Pairing: Reader x Cassian
Summary: After sleeping together, you and Cassian are wrestling with what it means for your friendship--- leading you both to misreading everything.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT! best friends to lovers. literally just two big dummies in love, lots of miscommunication (tbh lack thereof), awkward moments, a sprinkle of sex! lovey dovey hot sex!
Word Count: 13k
This is part two of this fic, but can be read as a stand-alone :)
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The room was bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the day, tendrils of morning light peeking through your sheer curtains. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft brightness that now enveloped your room. You smiled to yourself, a heat rising to your cheeks as memories of the night prior began flooding through your mind, melting into you like warm honey. Cassian’s scent clung onto the sheets wrapped around you, evoking a warm, fluttering sensation in your chest. You inhaled deeply, delighting in the comforting smell, in the warmth it brought to your body. 
You slept with Cassian. You slept with Cassian. You fucked Cassian.
You pulled your sheets closer to yourself, an anticipation rising in your chest. There was a childlike excitement in your stomach, a giddiness that made your cheeks hurt from your smile. You let out a small breath, preparing yourself to turn over and face Cassian next to you, to revel in the intimacy of the morning after. You two needed to talk, of course, to discuss the new boundaries between you— to discuss what you even were. 
But as you shifted your weight, your smile dropped instantly. You stared at the empty spot next to you, the sheets wrinkled with an impression that almost made out Cassian’s form. Your heart sank like a stone in your chest, heavy with a weight of disappointment. You sat up right, scooting backwards to rest your back against the headboard. Your hand held your sheets to your chest, covering your nude form. You let out a deep sigh, a sadness raking through your body in waves. Of course he was gone. 
You chastised yourself for feeling so upset, for feeling so bothered. You knew better. This was Cassian, after all. An illyrian known for a good fuck– a great fuck. In fact, the rumors hadn’t done him justice. You always knew, deep down, that Cassian would be great in bed. There were too many females preaching about his skills, too many fawning over him for it all to be lies, to be over exaggerated. At one point, Mor had admitted that it was great– for the standards that she held him at. Sex with females was much more her speed, she had told you, but Cassian wasn’t too bad, even given the circumstances. At the time, the words never bothered you. But now, thinking back on them, you felt an envious irritation prickle at your skin. 
A part of you had hoped that this was different– that you were different. When he fell asleep next to you, you took it as a sign. Cassian almost never stayed the night with the women he fucked. You'd caught him before, coming home in the dead of night, a grin on his face, reeking of sex. The next morning he’d make some comment about it, tell you about his recent conquest– how flexible they were, how much they wanted him, how they said his name like he was a God. You always rolled your eyes, called him a pig, made fun of him. But now things were different. You were the female who wanted him so badly, the female that had moaned his name like he was a God. 
Had he left in the middle of the night and you’d failed to notice? Escaped your room and went back to his? Or was it early in the morning when he was hit with the sudden realization of what he had done? A sudden feeling of regret that grew arms and hauled him out of bed? He was probably thinking exactly what you were. It was a mistake. 
A glorious mistake. Repeated six times. So, six mistakes. Six glorious mistakes. But mistakes nonetheless. 
A deep sense of embarrassment filled you as you recalled the things you’d done the night prior, the things you'd said in a lustful haze. The memories were still fresh in your mind– you could feel the trace of Cassian's touch on your skin, the way his mouth felt on you, the way he had rolled his hips while inside you. You felt queasy now– dirty, almost.  
You lowered your gaze to where your hand clutched your soft sheets against your body. Instantly, you let out another pained sigh. Scattered across your chest were love bites Cassian had left behind– each dark and loud in their appearance. You stared at them with a frown. 
In the heat of the moment, you welcomed his marks, reveled in the passion they showed, enjoyed the idea of being marked as his. But now, in the light of day, they served as something entirely different– marks of bad decisions, reminders you’d have to face until they faded. Considering how prominent they were, how many were spread out around your body, you knew it would be a while until you were free of them. 
You slumped further into your bed, a heavy weight settling over your shoulders. With a resigned sigh, you let your head fall back against the headboard, the impact of it against the wood echoing softly in the room.
Fuck. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Cassian had forgotten the plans he’d made with Azriel– a meeting to review recent findings, to plan for future missions. He was already running late by the time he had woken up, the sunshine filtering in your room too bright for it to be early morning, the time he had agreed to meet Az. His body was relaxed in a way it had never been before. He supposed that would be expected after having the best sex of his life– with… his best friend? He tried not to overthink it. Instead, he had rolled over, taking in your presence with a smile.
He spent minutes looking at you, admiring the way that you slept, the peaceful rise of your chest as you breathed— he’d done his best to avoid staring at your naked form, the way your nipples perked in the morning air. He failed severely. How could he not appreciate them? Appreciate the rest of your body? The very thing he was lucky enough to touch, lucky enough to have pleasured.
It took every ounce of his will to remove himself from your bed, to keep himself from leaning over and embracing you, waking you up with a kiss. Every bone in his body ached for him to be intertwined with you again. So, in order to leave he had to at least touch you once. Tenderly, he had leaned over your sleeping figure, softly bringing the knuckles of his fingers across your cheek. 
He wanted to leave a note, leave something for you to wake up to. He searched for minutes, but your bedroom offered him no options. For a female who collected many things, your ‘trinkets’ as you liked to call them, you failed to own the one thing he needed– a pen. 
But he didn’t let him bother him too much. You knew him well enough to assume he’d left with good reason. And he was confident that you’d come find him to talk when you awoke. The thought of it alone made him feel giddy, made him excited in a way that traveled to both his heart and his cock at the same time. Such a strange feeling. He never thought the two would be so connected. 
He couldn’t focus all morning, none of Azriel’s words registering in his mind. His thoughts were all surrounding you. The way you smelled, the way you felt, how beautiful you looked when he fucked you, how beautiful you looked when you slept. Azriel had gotten tired of him, irritated at his lack of attention. With an eye roll he had sent Cassian on his way— and Cass had made a beeline for you.
He hadn’t expected to run into you immediately as he entered the hallway. But he accepted the timing gratefully, taking you in with a smile. A warmth fluttered in his chest as he walked towards you. 
“Cassian,” you breathed out, a small smile finding its way onto your lips.
Cassian frowned at the use of his full name falling from your lips in a way that felt so stiff, so unnatural. He swiftly recovered, meeting your smile with one of his own. His eyes shamelessly scanned you as you stood before him, causing a heat rise to your cheeks. Your heartbeat quickened, the sound echoing in your ears as you fought to regain your composure. Clearing your throat, you drew his attention back to your face.
"Mornin'," Cassian greeted, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he looked at you. His wings flared out behind him, extended comfortably and proud. You ran your eyes along their outlines. 
"Morning," you managed to reply, your voice coming out strained and uneven. You instinctively pulled your hands to the high neckline of your dress, tugging at the material in a nervous attempt to draw it closer to you.
Cassian's grin faltered for just a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find an explanation for your movements, for how you stood before him– uneased, almost awkward. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
"How did you slee—"
"—Did you have a good—"
Your voices overlapped, the words tumbling out in a jumble of awkwardness. Cassian's eyebrows lifted in amusement, a small smirk now playing at the corners of his lips. Your laughter bubbled up nervously as you met his gaze with a small, uncertain smile.
"You first," you said, as you gestured towards him with a hesitant hand.
Cassian's smirk softened, a small breath of amusement escaping him in the form of a gentle laugh. He observed you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. “Did you have a good night?”
The images manifested in your mind quicker than you could process, the sound of his voice echoing in your head. 
I could feast on this beautiful pussy forever, you know that?
I wish I could be here forever.
Stay buried inside of your cunt. Fuck you like this for the rest of my life.
You blinked away the flurry of thoughts, feeling your stomach clench in an uncomfortable knot. A rush of heat flooded your already tinted cheeks. Hastily, you tried to push the images away– your new feelings of arousal too. You only hoped Cassian couldn’t tell, that he couldn’t smell it. 
"Uh, yeah... yeah I did. Did you?"
Cass picked up on the way you stumbled over your words, on the uncertain cadence in which they were spoken. But he decided against acknowledging it. You seemed to be happy last night, content with him. So, perhaps, this was how you always were after sex. He’d never seen this side of you, never seen you right after you’d fucked someone, after someone had fucked you. The thought eased some of his anxiety. This was a natural response for you, he affirmed, all he needed to do was play it cool and casual. You’d set the pace.
"Oh, yeah. I did," Cassian replied, his tone lowering as a gentle smile played at the corners of his lips. His hazel eyes seemed to soften, their usual warmth taking on a golden hue that made them glimmer in the light. You felt a flutter in your chest, an inexplicable pull towards him that made it hard to tear your gaze away. 
You nodded awkwardly, managing a small, strained smile. "Cool," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You found yourself now avoiding his gaze, looking anywhere but his face
"Cool," he repeated, his tone lighter than yours, laced with amusement. You could hear the smile in his voice, could picture it without even looking at him. His nonchalant demeanor was almost disarming, and you found yourself glancing up at him, meeting his gaze without intending to.
There he was, looking back at you with an easy smile, his eyes warm and inviting. Your face softened and you felt a flutter in your chest, a warmth spreading throughout your body like a gentle wave. 
“Hey, so-” Cassian reached his hand forward, moving to place it on your arm. You quickly deflected the movement, taking a step backwards as you threw a thumb over your shoulder.
“I, uh, I actually have to go,” you stammered, your voice hurried as you searched for an excuse. “I’m meeting Fey and Mor for breakfast. Can't be late.”
You offered a small apologetic smile before turning on your heel and disappearing around the corner, leaving Cassian standing alone in the hallway. Cassian's expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features as he watched you retreat. He felt his wings slump slightly behind him as a frown creased in his brow. You had left– no, fled– in the same direction you were coming from. 
His hand hovered in the air for a moment, as if suspended in the space where you had stood. He looked down at his hand, then back to the spot where you had disappeared around the corner before letting it slowly fall back to his side.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Mor was incredibly hung over when you showed up at her apartment, frantically knocking like your life depended on it. She stumbled to the door, her hair disheveled and her eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep.
You rushed inside without a word, looking at her with a face of exasperation. Mor blinked blearily at you, trying to process the world around her, one that was moving faster than her brain could handle. “What's going on?" she asked, her voice muffled by a yawn.
You stared at Mor for a moment. When you opened your mouth to respond, no words came out. You didn’t know where to start– didn’t even know what you wanted to tell her. How do you explain that you’ve completely humiliated yourself? That there's a chance you’ve messed up your friendship with Cassian? With a frustrated groan, you turned away and walked to her couch, slumping down onto it with a defeated sigh.
It took 15 minutes for Feyre to show up, her footsteps echoing as Mor opened the door. She rushed in, concern etched on her face as she peeled off her coat.
"I rushed over as soon as I could. What was the big dea—" Feyre's words trailed off as her eyes fell upon you, sprawled on your back on the couch, your groans muffled by the pillow you clutched tightly to your face. Feyre looked over to the blonde next to her. 
"She fucked Cassian," Mor stated blankly, taking a sip of the warm liquid in her cup– tea, from what Feyre could smell. Something to help with Mor’s evident hangover– another thing Feyre could smell. 
Feyre's eyes widened in surprise as she let out a small gasp. Then, her face transformed into one of slight amusement. "Took long enough."
Mor swallowed down her tea, nodding in agreement before clearing her throat. "So either it went really good or really bad.” She exchanged a meaningful look with Feyre. "I haven't been able to tell which it is yet.”
Feyre nodded in understanding, her expression softening as she walked over to where you lay, sitting on the ground beside the couch. As Mor settled into a chair across from you, Feyre leaned forward, resting her arms on the cushions to get your attention. "Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice ringing softly in your ears. "Why don’t we move this pillow away."
You slowly lowered the pillow from your face, turning to the side to meet Feyre's gaze as she said, “Well, someone looks extra beautiful today.” 
You stared at her with an unamused face. "I'm so absolutely mortified," you mumbled, a frown forming on your lips.
Pushing yourself upright on the couch, you tossed a glance at both Mor and Feyre. They looked at you, quiet and expecting, eyebrows raised slightly. With a deep breath, you let it all spill out. You walked them through the night at Ritas, the conversation when you came home, details about your night with Cass, the sex, and how you had woken up to an empty bed. 
"And then when I saw him, he was so casual, so nonchalant about it," you explained, frustration lacing your words. "I half expected him to give me a fist bump and call me dude." 
You didn't miss the way Mor choked on her drink, a small sound escaping her lips that almost resembled a laugh. Feyre did her best to maintain her composure, her lips pressed tightly together. But her eyes, sparkling with suppressed laughter, gave her away. In all fairness, you would be laughing too. In fact, a part of you, deep down, wanted to. It all seemed so absurd. A few months ago, the idea of being intimate with Cassian would have been something so unrealistic. 
"Well, this is Cassian," Feyre began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. “He’s….”
She looked towards Mor for help. The blonde held her gaze for a minute, and then spoke, "Oblivious," she supplied, her tone matter-of-fact. "Honestly, I don't understand how he talks to women," Mor continued, "He's horrible at it. Pretty privilege gets you things, I swear-"
Feyre's expression shifted to one of quiet reprimand. "Mor."
“No, she's right," you admitted with a sigh, tapping Feyre’s hand lightly. "He is pretty bad. He gets away with it because he's hot. And he's good in bed... which I now know." Another groan escaped you as you sank back further against the couch.
You understood now why decision making under any drug, under any hazes, was heavily frowned upon. Your eagerness to bed your best friend, the lustful trance you were in, both drunk on your own arousals, it left you in a mess. You cringed at the embarrassment that still filled you. How were you supposed to be normal, now? Cassian’s smell still filled your nose, the mere thought of him made your core clench. Seeing him made you feel feral. And now, you had to face him casually— knowing he had seen you in such a vulnerable position; that he had seen you completely naked, moaning underneath him. The image sent a blush up your neck. 
"If he wants to move on from it, okay," you said, "But I don't know how to be normal around him. How do people do this?" 
“What?” Mor asked, “Have casual sex?”
“No. I love casual sex,” you said. Even though you’d never finished before Cassian. “But sex with your best friend? Not casual.”
She shrugged. “Depends on the best friend, really.”
You shot her a look. 
“Sorry, not helping.” She lifted a hand up in surrender. “Got it.”
Feyre shifted beside you, her gaze gentle as she placed her hand on top of yours. "Look, it doesn't have to be a big deal if you don't want it to be," she reassured you.
You nodded, appreciating her attempt to ease your anxiety. You knew this wasn’t that big of a deal, at least not to everyone around you. But you were stressed. Your friendship with Cassian was something that you treasured dearly. You knew him better than you knew yourself. He was home. The thought that your bond, the relationship you had formed over centuries, could have been changed by one night of flimsy thinking— it made you worry.  
"I know,” you replied. “But I don't know how to even look at him..." Your voice trailed off as you cringed inwardly. "Like, I said things..." 
Mor and Feyre exchanged a puzzled glance before turning their attention back to you. Feyre furrowed her brow, leaning in closer to you. "What... what things?" 
You couldn't help but feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you, your cheeks flushing at the thought of last night. How had you gone from so confident to so shy now, shy at your own memories, at your own words?
Mark me. 
I’m yours.
I’m yours.
I’m yours.
Fuck me like I'm yours. 
With a clearing of your throat, you attempted to regain your composure, trying your best to act natural as you avoided meeting their eyes.
“Just things I can't look him in the face knowing that he heard," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze remained fixed on your hands, fidgeting with your nails in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from their gazes.
“Gods, Y/n,” Mor started, “What kinda stuff are you into?" 
You snapped your head up to meet her gaze, a mixture of shock and disbelief evident on your face. "Not like that, Mor!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with indignation. The blush on your cheeks deepened. "Just very... intimate things," you clarified quickly.
You watched as Mor and Feyre shared another look.
"Hey, stop that," you interjected, pointing a finger between them.
Feyre raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Hmm? Stop what?"
You narrowed your eyes. “The looks.”
Again, Feyre glanced over at Mor– a movement so swift you nearly missed it.
"That! Stop that," you insisted.
They both let out sighs, small smiles playing on their lips. 
"Y/n,” Mor said, “I think you're stressed because it's only been like, what? 12 hours?”
You gave a slight nod. She smiled in response, leaning forward in her chair slightly. “I'm sure it'll go away in a few days.” 
Feyre chimed in, her voice equally as comforting. "If that's what you want, of course," she added.
You nodded to yourself, taking in their words. Maybe they were right. You were in a shock system, your emotions were all over the place. Everything would settle soon. You could handle a few days. A few days to let it all leave your system, a few days to fall back into the old rhythm between you and Cassian. Things would be back to normal within a week, you told yourself, nothing to worry about. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Cassian had begun to realize that he had misread the situation entirely. 
You were distant, more so than he’d ever experienced. At first, he wrote it off as a busy schedule. Even before you two had slept together, your schedules were hectic, causing your time together to be few and far between. But then he started observing you more, started noticing the way that you acted. 
Cass was a physical male, he knew this. He loved to be around other people, loved to touch those around him— in both platonic and sexual ways, depending on the audience. So when you started to doge his cheek kisses, started to duck under the hand he’d move to wrap around your shoulder, he’d taken note.
It hit him last night, when everyone was gathered and sitting around the living room, talking about recent events. The plan was to go over any looming threats, collectively share all the information you had. When you arrived, everyone was already seated. You had stilled, your eyes falling on Cassian, and then on the empty space next him. It felt like hours that he watched you stand there, glancing between him and the cushion. 
He fixed his position, adjusting his wings to make space for you, for them to fall behind you as you placed your head on his shoulder. But the movement never came, his shoulder remaining cold and untouched. Instead, you sat down timidly, pushing yourself further into the other end of the couch, leaning away from him. 
The act, or the lack of it, led him to one conclusion: you regretted that night together. It made so much sense now, in his tired mind. The avoidance, the inability to even touch him, to be in the same room as him. It reeked of regret. How had he not realized sooner? 
He felt a sense of guilt wash through him. You were supposed to be best friends– you were best friends. How had he missed such obvious signs? Cassian deflated. 
Had he made you uncomfortable? With how open he’d been with you? His mind raced with thoughts. If he was a selfish male– which, often, he could be– he would start the conversation with you. He would confess to you that he thought about that night more often than he’d care to admit, that he wanted to repeat it every night–  for the rest of his life, even. But Cassian wasn’t selfish when it came to one thing; he wasn’t selfish when it came to you. So he was faced with a new situation now, one he didn’t know how to navigate, one he couldn’t rely on battle strategies to overcome.  And he was stuck. Completely and utterly stuck.
How could he possibly go back to normal? How could he return to the male he was before– the one who had never heard your sounds of ecstasy, one who had never felt you wrapped around him? 
Sure, he was a strong male, able to withstand any torture, any battle— but he couldn’t withstand you. Couldn’t ignore the sweetness of your smell, the flutter in his chest that came to life when you laughed. He wanted to ignore it, oh how desperately he wanted to ignore it, but he couldn't. He couldn’t ignore it when images of you overtook his mind, couldn’t ignore it when he saw you everytime he closed his eyes, that he heard your whimpers in his sleep, heard the way you chanted his name like a prayer. He didn’t think he had it in him. 
But he supposed he had to try. Because it was you. 
And for you, he’d do anything. Even if that meant never speaking of the roaring in his heart. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
You usually loved family brunches, as chaotic and loud as they could be. 
But you weren’t looking forward to today. 
Things with Cassian were still strange. You were willing to admit that they’d gotten slightly better, that now you could look at him without immediately remembering how his tongue felt on you. Before, it was seconds before you’d fall into a dream state, imagining yourself back in your bed with him a week prior. Now, it took a couple of minutes. You considered it progress. You could avoid him throughout the house, tiptoe around his door, keep note of his schedule— but interaction within a family meal was hard to bypass. 
It had been a few days now, but if Cassian wasn’t going to mention anything, neither were you. 
He hadn’t talked to you, couldn’t even look at you without clearing his throat awkwardly, without looking away. Had it been bad for him? All the thinking you’d done over it, mulling over every aspect, had left you reeling. You were exhausted– and incredibly frustrated. Sexually.
You stared at the table in front of you, eyes scanning each seat. Seating arrangements were never something explicitly discussed in your family, but the positions usually stayed the same, an unspoken order to how everyone naturally found their places around the table.
You always sat with Cassian and Azriel, sandwiched between them as their conversations veered into arguments over the most trivial matters—exchanges you explained as males being males. Big, illyrian babies. You always took the opportunity to bother Cass, siding with whatever Azriel’s view was just to see the mock offense play out on his face. He always gasped in disbelief, accusing you of lying, insisting that you actually agreed with him because you both thought the same about everything. Even though you always dismissed his words with a smile and a wave of your hand, he was always right. You did think the same– about everything. Until now.
Mor usually sat next to Amren, the pair drinking wine together while they traded offhanded comments about the rest of you. And then, of course, there was Rhysand and Feyre. Their chairs were always positioned so close together that it was almost as if they were connected, Rhysand's hand often finding its place intertwined with Feyre's—  or when they weren't being subtle, resting possessively on her thigh.
Your eyes scanned over the empty seats at the table. Mor and Cassian had yet to sit down, leaving 3 empty seats: two next to Azriel, and one next to Amren– across the table. You took a deep breath. It was probably in everyone's best interest that you sat away from Cass.  
You didn't want to make things awkward, didn't want him to lean in for conversation only to be hit with the overwhelming scent of your arousal. The last thing you wanted was to force him to pretend he didn't notice, to watch him struggle to act normal while you were clearly fawning over him. It would be mortifying– it had been mortifying. You knew Cassian would never want to make you feel uncomfortable, but it would put him in a strange position as someone who didn't see you in that way, someone who was trying to move on.
You decided it was best to wait it out a little longer before you could be around him properly again, give yourself time to regain control over your emotion. Until then, you’d keep your distance, avoiding situations that might intensify your feelings. 
With a slight hesitation, you made your way towards the seat next to Amren, oblivious to Cassian's presence as he emerged from the kitchen. His familiar scent washed over you like a tidal wave, enveloping your senses in a way that had you melting– you feared that your legs would turn to jelly, that you would fall to the floor in front of him. Your grip on your plate tightened instinctively.
You looked up at Cass, meeting his gaze directly. Beautiful, beautiful hazel eyes peered down at you. They widened a fraction, his mouth slightly parting. You managed to give him a small smile, slightly breathless as your stomach tied itself into knots. You attempted to sidestep him, but he mirrored your movements, resulting in a clumsy dance of trying to avoid collision. With each step, you found yourselves inadvertently blocking each other's path once more, creating a scene that you knew would be comical had you not been the one stuck in it. 
"Oh, sorry, I—" you started, your words interrupted by Cassian's chuckle of amusement. His laughter caused a flutter in your heart, a small smile making its way onto your face as a blush rose to your cheeks
With a casual gesture, he lifted his hand and plate high above, and you quickly ducked underneath, a wave of relief rolling through you. Scrambling over to Amren's side, you felt the weight of eyes on you, but you didn’t dare to look up, didn’t dare to see whose gaze it was. The last thing you wanted was to risk catching Cassian's eyes again.
As you settled into your seat, you focused on maintaining your composure, ensuring that no one else could sense—or The Mother forbid, smell—the emotions you were feeling: arousal, attraction… and something else. Something sweeter. 
You turned your head to the side, meeting Amren’s gaze, her expression unreadable save for a raised eyebrow. With a soft murmur, you muttered, "Don't start.”
To your surprise, Amren's lips curved ever so slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. She didn't say anything in response, opting instead to take a leisurely sip from the crimson liquid in her cup.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Cassian was surprised when you’d shown up to training, clad in your fighting leathers and a small smile on your face. His heart quickened its pace as his eyes landed on you, the sight of you filling him with a rush of unexpected excitement. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips before he even realized it, a warmth spreading through his body. 
Your hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, swaying gently behind you with each purposeful step. As you walked, Cassian felt a surge of desire stirring within him, his eyes tracing your figure, taking in the way the leather clung to your body, how it accentuated every curve. He’d noticed how good you looked in your letters before, of course, but he’d been better at pushing the thoughts away, at refocusing himself. He found it incredibly more difficult now that he knew what you looked like underneath them. He wondered if you were still adorned in his marks, wondered what it would be like to strip you naked right here, take you on the floor. 
He didn’t notice you had reached him, that you were standing in front of him with furrowed brows, until you were saying something. He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and hastily cleared his throat. "H-hey, Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
A small frown creased your brow as you tilted your head. "When have I ever missed a training session of ours?"
"Yeah, right, it's just," Cassian paused for a moment, “You’ve been so busy recently.”
You glanced away briefly, a flicker of guilt—or was it shame?—crossing your features before you turned back to him with a small smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I've been... busy," you admitted, your tone clearly apologetic. "Dealing with some stuff."
Cassian felt a tug on her heart, a sense of guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. Memories of your night together flooded his head, each vivid and pleasurable. He pictured your face, the way you spoke, the feel of your skin. Was he so engulfed in his affection towards you, so blinded by his lust, that he had missed any sign of your discomfort? Had you not enjoyed yourself?
"Well, uh, is everything okay?" 
He watched as a faint smile graced your face, soft and reassuring. 
“Yeah," you replied, “Yeah, I think so.”
Cassian felt a tug at his heartstrings, a warmth blooming in his chest like wildfire. His wings fell slightly– a movement of relief, a sense of comfortability filling him. His heart pounded against his ribcage, its steady rhythm echoing in his ears like the pounding of a drum. He wondered how you couldn’t hear it— prayed that you couldn’t.
"Well, good, I'm glad.”
"You ready to get your ass kicked?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face. You playfully punched him on the arm, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he’d missed. He took in every detail of your expression, savoring the way your features softened with amusement.
Despite the lightness of the gesture, so casual, so platonic, he couldn't help the heat that spread through him at the contact. The sensation lingered long after your hand retreated.
He chuckled, pushing his feelings down deeper into his chest. “As if.”
You both fell easily into your normal routine, sweat beginning to pool on your skin as you maneuvered around one another. Cassian paid extra attention to the way you moved, to how your body acted around him. 
"You seem a bit distracted today," he remarked, his voice laced with playful amusement as he deftly dodged another one of your attacks, your favorite dagger gripped tightly in your hand. Your actions didn’t seem as fluid as normal, your movements staggered and uncertain. 
You shot him a pointed look. Then, a small smirk played on the corners of your lips, your beautiful pink lips. "I could say the same," you countered. "Maybe if you focused more on your body than mine, you could actually beat me."
Cassian blinked in surprise, momentarily thrown off balance by the sudden change in tone. Were you… flirting with him? He felt a rush of excitement course through him, his heart leaping in his chest as blood rushed to both of his heads. Even if it was simply playful, he relished in the feeling, in the reality of you being able to banter with him once more.
"Oh yeah?" Cass replied, matching your playful tone. "I guess I'll just have to try harder, won't I?"
Cassian's eyes followed you intently, tracking every movement with precision. Your steps were lighter now, more agile, more calculated. He almost smirked at the fact that his words were riling you up, causing such observable differences. In one swift movement, you deflected his hand, your body falling closer to him. Instantly, Cassian's senses were overwhelmed by your presence, the scent of you filling his nostrils, sweet and intoxicating. A surge of desire coursed through him. You smelled so damn good. He wanted to grab you then, kiss you, undress yo-
The breath was knocked out of Cassian's chest as you skillfully knocked him off balance, sending him tumbling to the ground with a resounding thud. With a slow blink, he registered the movement, finding himself pinned beneath you, a dagger pressed against his throat. 
There was a grin on your lips as you looked down at him triumphantly.
"For such a big male, you sure do go down easy," you teased.
His mind was instantly filled with Images of you sprawled out before him, memories of him falling to his knees at your glistening core. He smirked. 
"I seem to recall you loving how easily I went down.”
You let out a small gasp of surprise– barely audible, but Cassian caught it. The sound sent a jolt straight down his core, straight to his cock. He watched as a blush crept onto your cheeks, a beautiful pink color dusting your skin.
He felt the weight of your touch ease, the tension in your fingers relenting against his skin. Your eyes met his for a moment before they drifted downward, lingering momentarily on his lips.
A single strand of your hair had broken free from your ponytail, cascading delicately over him like a silken tendril. Its faint touch tickled his forehead. Slowly, Cassian reached up, his fingers trailing along the curve of your cheek as he tenderly tucked the stray strand behind your ear. He kept his fingers there for a moment, tracing the shell of your ear, the same way he had done a week prior. 
A mounting pressure swelled within his chest, something deep inside him pushing him to speak, urging him to confess these new feelings he had begun to realize– feelings for you. But just as he summoned the courage to speak, you shifted slightly, and Cassian’s eyes widened.
Oh fuck. Cassian thought. Oh no. 
He was hard. Rock fucking hard.
Panic surged through him like a lightning bolt. Not now, he thought, not here. Not when you’d finally started acting normal around him, flirty even. You were going to be uncomfortable, put off by his weird attraction to you. 
As he scrambled to regain his composure, Cassian's movements became hurried and erratic, his muscles tensing as he attempted to push himself upright. When his body shifted abruptly, you instinctively pulled away from him. He missed the frown that made its way onto your face, the hurt that flickered in your eyes. Instead, he was focused on positioning himself in a way that didn’t face you, a way where his evident arousal wasn’t so… evident. 
With a hurried nod and a mumbled acknowledgment of your victory, Cassian swiftly made his exit. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Mor upended the wine bottle, allowing the last remnants to cascade into her glass with a satisfying glug. The evening sun casted warm hues through the windows of her apartment, a view that would have left you relaxed had it not been for your wound up mind. 
"I didn't even realize I was flirting with him until it came out," you said, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush.  "I could've sworn he liked it! I mean, he matched the energy."
Your friends stared at you. A moment of silence passed. Then, Amren's voice cut through the air. "I'm failing to see a problem," she stated bluntly, fixing you with her narrow gaze.
"Yeah, isn't this good?" Feyre chimed in, her voice gentle but firm. "You liked it, right?"
You let out a small sigh.
"Yeah, I liked it," you admitted, leaning back against the couch. "But then, a few moments later, he was practically pushing me off him and leaving."
It was a wrong move on your part— the flirting, that is. You were just beginning to fall into a normal pace with Cass, finally being able to be around him without wanting to rip his clothes off. And now you were back in the same position, a weird tension wrapped around you and your best friend. It wasn’t like you had planned on flirting with him, but it didn’t change the fact that you liked it. You thought he’d liked it too, could have sworn you saw a gleam in his eyes. 
You let out another sigh, a sound laced with frustration. 
"And you know what else?" you continued, your tone escalating. "He called me baby. Like who calls someone baby when they're inside them and then just leaves in the morning, no mention of it? And now he wants to act all normal? But will flirt with me and then run away? It's cruel."
Feyre's eyes widened slightly, your words registering in her mind as fast as you spilled them. She blinked, turning to exchange a quick glance with Mor– the blonde seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the entertainment, her lips turned up into an amused smile. 
You caught the exchanged glance, your eyes fitting onto Mor as she brought her glass to her lips. She raised an eyebrow at you, meeting your gaze. 
"Don't even say it,” you said, catching the knowing glint in her eyes. 
Mor chuckled.
"Babe, I literally haven’t said a thing since you walked in."
You stilled. She was right. You were rambling, rambling like a horny teenager with a silly crush. You sank further into yourself, running your hands down your face in frustration.
"Are you a mind reader, girl?"
You scrunched your face in confusion as you turned to face Amren. 
"No?" 
"Exactly," she retorted, "Figure out what you want and then talk to him. No need to be children about it."
You recoiled slightly at the bluntness of her words, feeling a pang of irritation at the implied criticism. But deep down, you knew she was right. But what did you want? You didn’t like the unease that filled moments with him, you didn’t like how you had to overthink everything you did, everything you said. But did you truly want things to go back to how they were before? Or did you want something else? 
With a resigned sigh, you allowed yourself to lean into Feyre's comforting presence, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to dissipate as she placed her head on top of yours. You let your mind spiral as your friends began talking amongst themselves.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Rhys found it funny at first, hilarious even. 
Seeing Cassian so riled up, so flustered, was amusing. But it had been hours now, and Rhysand had work to attend to— important court affairs that he couldn't focus on while Cass was spilling his guts out like a common court gossip. What was once entertaining now felt exhausting. Rhysand felt like he had a child. Either that, or an annoyingly vocal pet. 
Rhys let out a chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the study. Cassian came to an abrupt halt, shooting a sharp glare at his brother. 
"What's so funny about this?" Cassian demanded.
Rhys regarded him with a knowing look, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "All of it," he replied with a small shrug. "You’re one of the most feared males, and here you are, stumbling over one night with Y/n. It's fascinating."
Cassian’s glare only sharpened, his jaw clenched. Cassian was stumbling. After practically running away from you the other day, he’d found it hard to face you again. Embarrassment filled him when he thought of it, when he thought of how easy it was for him to get riled up at the thought of you, how embarrassing it was for him to have to run off and rub himself raw every time you smiled at him. He was a grown male – a terrifying warrior– and he’d almost finished in his damn fighting leathers at the smell of you. 
He thought it was rough before, after that first night at Rita’s, that week of lusting after you so hard. But it was much worse now after having experienced it, after knowing how fucking fantastic it was to fuck you, to make you moan. 
"Don't judge me,"  Cassian snapped, his tone defensive. "You weren't the Lord of calm and collected when you and Feyre started moving past friendship."
Rhys raised an eyebrow. "Are you comparing this situation to me and my mate?" 
Cassian paused for a moment. The look Rhysand gave him made him feel like a child caught with his pants down. He glanced away for a brief moment, collecting his thoughts, before meeting Rhys's gaze again. He frowned. "Shut up," he growled, his tone still gruff, but with a hint of sheepishness that Rhysand didn’t fail to pick up on.
What was Cassian supposed to do? Should he live with his feelings for you in secret? Pretend they didn't exist in order to return back to normal with you? He supposed he could ignore them, shove them far into a crawlspace in his mind, leave them to collect dust. But it wasn’t realistic. The mere sight of you sent shivers across his body, the thought of you alone made him horny enough to be incapable of rational thought. 
Pushing himself off his chair, Rhys walked around his desk to where Cassian stood, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. With a firm touch, he clapped a hand on Cassian’s shoulder.
"Cassian, brother," Rhysand began as he guided them both towards the door. "You know that I love you."
Cassian's brows furrowed at the sudden statement, but his frown softened into a small as he reciprocated the sentiment. "I love you too, man," he replied.
"And that I'd die for you.”
Cassian nodded, his brows furrowing deeper. 
"So take this the way that you wish," Rhysand concluded, his voice trailing off as he gave Cassian a final nudge forward. 
Cass stumbled forward slightly, face twisted in confusion as he turned to Rhysand– only to find himself met with the sight of the door slamming shut in his face. Cassian’s mouth fell open in offense. A sense of frustration prickling over him, soon turning into a wave of embarrassment. 
"You're a prick, Rhysand!" he exclaimed, shooting a glare at the closed door.
Rhysand's laughter echoed from behind the door, a sound that only served to further fuel Cassian’s annoyance. With a shake of his head, Cass turned away, his steps heavy with frustration as he made his way down the hallway.
Fix your mess, brother. Rhysand's voice echoed in his mind. It's leaving you very exposed.
Cassian flinched internally as Rhys emphasized his point with a firm tap against his mental shields.
Fuck you. 
No thanks, Rhysand swiftly replied, Wouldn’t want you to finish in your fighting leathers at the smell of me.
Cassian growled as he forcefully shoved Rhys out of his mind. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Cassian’s stomach clenched as he rounded the corner, catching sight of you standing outside his door, hand poised to knock.
"Y/n?" 
You let out a startled sound, a mix between a gasp and a shriek, as your hand flew to your chest, your eyes wide with surprise. "Gods,” you breathed out, looking at Cassian as your heartbeat slowed. “You scared me.”
Cassian smiled at your reaction, a warmth spreading through him as the sound of your sweet voice filled his ears. With a few quick strides, he closed the distance between you, his gaze softening as he took in your presence.
"Sorry," he said softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he approached you with a small smile. “What’re you doing?”
Your cheeks flushed at the sight of his smile, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. How embarrassing. It’s literally only been a minute. You blinked, clearing your head of your thoughts. "Oh, I was looking for you.” 
Cassian’s smile turned into a grin as he tilted his head with a small laugh. "Yeah, sweetheart, I gathered that much.”
Your heart fluttered at the sound of the pet name, a wave of longing washing over you as you realized how much you had missed hearing it. It had been over a week since you last heard it, over a week since Cass had been comfortable enough to use it once more. Gods, had you missed him—the way his voice sounded, the warmth of his smile, the comfort of his presence. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. 
He stood before you, his gaze warm and tender as he took in your presence, savoring the moment, tracing the features of your face with his eyes. For a brief instant, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the dimly lit hallway, surrounded by quiet as you took each other in. 
"Wanna go in?" he asked, giving a small nod towards the door behind you. "Or we could stand out here. I'm good with either.”
The sound of his teasing wrapped around you, and you gave him a jokingly unamused face, a small laugh escaping your lips. "Loser, " you replied, rolling your eyes with a smile. You turned to open his door, walking into his room. 
The smell of him instantly surrounded you– peaceful nights and crackling fires, a warmth that only he caused within you. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as your smile deepended. You heard the sound of the door close softly behind you. 
Your mind raced with a million thoughts, each one clamoring for attention as you tried to find the right words to say. You still weren’t sure what you wanted to tell him, what you even wanted from him. 
"I want to talk about the other night," you blurted out, turning to face him. Instantly, you felt a rush of nerves flood through you, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Y’know, when we fucked.”
Cassian's demeanor shifted slightly as he stilled. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about that, too.”
“You have?”
Cassian nodded, his movements hesitant as he ran a hand through his hair."Yeah," he admitted, "I wasn't sure how to approach it.”
You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, your pulse quickening. His gaze bounced around the room, falling everywhere but your face. You frowned, waiting for his eyes to settle on you, wanting to see the brown hues you’d grown to love so much. 
His gaze finally met yours. 
"I know you regret it. We can move on and go back to normal. I promise."
You frowned, your face falling at his words. 
"Regret it?" 
Your tone was a clear indicator that Cassian had said something wrong. But now he was confused, unsure of what he said that warranted your confusion. 
"Yeah, it seemed pretty clear.”
You shook your head. "What are you talking about?" you repeated, your voice now tinged with frustration. Had Cassian believed you didn’t enjoy yourself? Had he been thinking that the entire time? 
"You won't even touch me," Cassian stated matter-of-factly. There was a sense of frustration in his voice that seeped into his words.
"Because whenever I touch you," you said, your voice now slightly trembling, "I feel this weird warmth that makes me want you to rip my clothes off!"
The confession spilled from your lips before you could stop it, the raw honesty of your feelings washing over you in a wave of embarrassment and frustration. Your eyes widened as you watched Cassian take in your words. 
“Well I want to rip your clothes off!”
His admission filled you with a sense of relief that had you releasing a breath. The relief quickly turned into arousal, a fire beginning to simmer underneath your skin, a warmth spreading through your veins. You wanted to pull him into a kiss, to run your hands along his chest. 
"You do?" 
"Yes!" Cassian replied, his voice deep and guttural, sending a shiver down your spine. The intensity in his tone stirred a primal desire that pulsed with an undeniable heat. He took a few large strides towards you, stopping so he was directly in front of you, looking down at your face. 
Your chest tightened, your heart fluttering erratically in its beat. You quickly reined in your impulses, forcing yourself to hold back from making any rash movements. Rushing into things had only led to complications last time– you were not going to repeat the same mistakes.
Amren's words echoed in your mind. You needed to think about what you wanted— what you truly wanted. And deep down, you knew the answer. All you wanted was Cassian. You had always wanted Cassian. But the thought of risking your friendship, of irreparably altering the dynamic between you, filled you with a sense of unease that you wanted to run away from. 
Returning to normal seemed like the safest option, the path of least resistance. Keeping your friendship intact, with no risk of crossing boundaries or venturing into uncharted territory, felt like the logical choice. But as Cassian stood before you, his gaze filled with longing, you weren’t so sure if the safest option was what you wanted.
"But that's a problem!" you said, "I don’t want to risk ruining this," you continued, gesturing between the two of you. "This amazing and strong friendship we've built, because we just want to fuck each other."
“Just want to fuck each other? Is that all this is?” He paused for a moment. “Is that what you want?’
You hesitated. “I don’t know," you admitted, your voice soft. "But I've thought about it, and I could do it, for you. Because I am really, really attracted to you."
Cassian's heart skipped a beat at your words. He wanted to grin at the emphasis of his attractiveness, to poke fun at how much you liked him, but he found himself caught up on two words that you had uttered.
"For me?" he repeated, a slight frown on his face. “What do you mean for me?”
You let out a deep breath, a sigh escaping your lips as you glanced to the side before meeting his gaze again. "C’mon, Cass. You don’t do romance.”
Cassian's brows furrowed in surprise, a hint of offense flashing in his eyes. "What are you talking about? I do romance just fine," he protested, his voice defensive.
"You've never had a girlfriend, or any serious relationship for that matter," you pointed out, "And you've been around a long time, you old fuck."
"Wrong. There was that one female that one time." 
You stared at him blankly, your mouth slightly parted.
"You know, with the…the hair," he continued, gesturing vaguely to his own body, mimicking the flow of long hair.
The corners of your lips turned up as you let out a small laugh of disbelief. He was an idiot. You had feelings for an idiot. 
"Your attention to detail truly astounds me, Cass," you remarked dryly. "I'm surprised Azriel isn't worried about his position as our court's Spymaster. Should I go tell him that his job may be up for grabs?"
Cassian wanted to laugh, but he recognized your attempts to deflect instantly, deciding to place a hand on your arm. His eyes swiftly scanned your features, craning his head down to catch your gaze. 
“Y/n,” he said softly, calling your attention back to him. Your eyes met his almost instantly. 
"Yes?" 
"I don’t want to just fuck you," Cassian said, his hand coming to rest against your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I mean, I do. Real bad. Reaaaal bad," he added with a hint of playful exaggeration. “But it's not just that.” 
"Then what is it?" 
"I want all of it.”
His other hand moved up to hold your other cheek. He gazed at you intently, his eyes soft with a look of longing that had you melting into his touch. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in tandem. You brought your hands up to hold his wrists, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, and exhaled deeply, your brows furrowing with uncertainty.
"What if we don't work and this turns into something really bad?"
Cassian's gaze softened, his thumbs gently tracing circles on your cheeks as he considered your question. "Or, hear me out," he began, his voice steady and filled with conviction, "What if this is something really good?"
"But what if it’s not?" you repeated, your voice heavy with worry. "I mean, you've already seen me naked and I don’t know how to act.”
Cassian grinned at the comment, his mind drifting off to the images of you buried into his mind. But his expression quickly softened, falling back into the seriousness that you needed. "Hey," he said gently, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. "Give me some credit."
You let out a small sigh and nodded softly. Cassian was always great at reeling you in when he needed to, at calling out your pessimistic tendencies. Maybe he was right. You weren’t giving your best friend enough credit. He wouldn’t let anything ruin your friendship— centuries of your bond had proven this. If he was confident in this, in you, you should be too. You looked at him, still quiet. His eyes softened.
"Life would suck absolute balls without you," Cass said, adding with a small clarifying grin, "In a bad way."
You playfully rolled your eyes at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “How romantic.”
Cassian’s grin only widened, his thumb tracing along the curve of your smile line, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. You relished in the feeling of his hands on you, on the heat his movements sent through your body. 
"Okay, maybe I could stand to work on my romancing," he chuckled, a sound that made your heart swell. "But what I’m trying to say is… I like you," he confessed, his voice brimming with a sincerity that made you breathless. "You’re my best friend, and you’re so beautiful, and so hot. And I like you."
"You like me?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Fuck yeah I do.”
His hazel eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, an intensity that made you feel exposed before him, as if his gaze had the power to strip away every layer of doubt, of apprehension. 
"Loser," you whispered, your voice soft, teasing. You felt a blush on your cheeks, a heat that traveled up your neck. There was something about the way he spoke to you, about the confessions he had made, something that made you feel timid, meek. 
Cassian's grip tightened ever so slightly on the base of your neck, slowly pulling you even closer to him. You ran your hands along his wrists, feeling the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.
Cassian's voice lowered. "Maybe, for you." he murmured, his gaze holding yours with unwavering intensity. "Do you like me too?"
“Maybe.”
"Maybe?" Cassian repeated, his voice a low rumble. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hunger that made your core clench. Leaning in closer, he closed the distance between you, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered into your ear. "Seemed a bit more than maybe when you were writhing on my cock.”
His warm breath sent shivers down your spine, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You felt his stubble against your cheeks, his hands tightening around the base of your neck. 
Your breath hitched, “Cassian.”
"Yeah, baby?" 
The name had you practically melting in his touch. Cassian's voice was laced with a husky warmth that sent a shiver down your spine, a neediness pooling at your core. As he spoke, his lips brushed softly against your cheeks, his mouth moving lower, caressing the sensitive skin of your neck with a gentle fervor. 
Your eyes fluttered closed, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Each kiss sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through you, each hair on your body on end. The kisses were gentle, passionate, and you were already soaked, your breath ragged and heavy. You could smell your own arousal, could smell his even stronger. The scent made your mouth go dry, made you excited at the images that began to form in your mind. 
"Kiss me." 
You didn’t need to tell him twice. Instantly, Cassian responded to your plea, his lips meeting yours in a heavy kiss that left you breathless. His hands held your face as you reached out to pull him closer, your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair, gripping at them as he moaned into your mouth. 
His touch was sure, confident, as he began to help you shed your clothes, fingers fumbling with buttons and ties in a hurry. Your hands were frantic as you helped him peel his shirt off, trailing a finger across his wings as he groaned. His pants came off next, the sweats easily pulled down and discarded. You ran your hand along his clothed length, hard and ready underneath this underwear— those quickly came off too, your fingers eagerly helping to rip them off. 
There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt— not now, not anymore. Every touch of his set your skin on fire, igniting a passion that you could feel consuming you with every second, with every gasp you let out. And you welcomed it, eagerly pulling him closer, wanting to be as close to him as possible, wanting to make up for lost time, for the entirety of this week, for the centuries you’d spent missing out on this. 
You could feel how ready you were for him, wet and slick between your thighs, legs rubbing together impatiently as he pulled apart to fully scan your naked form before him. It was then that you became aware of the open air on your skin, at how your nipples responded to the chill, peaked, pink, and eager. Your mouth went dry at the sight of Cassian, his body illuminated by the faint faelight in his room, his wings extended out proudly, dominant. 
“You’re fucking stunning, sweetheart,” he praised, “I don’t tell you that enough, huh?”
And then he was on you again, wide hands, warm and rough with callouses and scars, ran up the length of you, one pulling you in by the base of your neck, the other grabbing at your breasts. You registered some movement, your steps taking you backwards as Cassian led you to his bed. When the backs of your calves hit the base of his mattress, you fell back onto his bed, pulling him with you. 
His hands were all over you again, grabbing at your skin, at your waist, roughly bringing your breasts into his palm. You weaved your fingers through his hair, grabbing at his scalp as he lowered his mouth onto your neck, trailing kisses down your body. 
You looked down at him, watching as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking at it while you mewed underneath him. He released it with a small pop, and then he was pulling away slightly, a finger trailing over a small spot on your skin where a previous mark of his was left, now small, almost faded. He glanced up at you, a look in his eyes that made you gasp, made you clench everything below your waist. 
“We can’t have these disappearing, now can we?”
He brought his mouth back onto your skin, sucking and biting at the area, his other hand roughly palming at your other breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers. You pulled at his hair even harder, small sounds of ecstasy falling from your lips like gentle rain. Cassian welcomed the sounds, feeling his heart flutter, feeling his cock grow harder with every moan he pulled from you. 
“Better,” Cassian said, lifting himself off you with a wolfish grin “Now everyone will know who you belong to.”
The words shouldn’t have made you melt as much as they did, shouldn’t have made your cunt throb at the idea— but it did. Every part of your body was filled with a warmth that spread through you, consuming you in a lustful, vulnerable haze. You couldn’t say anything in response, couldn’t move. All that you could do was whisper his name, chant it over and over again like it was the only word you knew, the only word you needed. 
"Fuck," Cass groaned, meeting your gaze as he pushed himself upright. His face was pinker than before, flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, his large fingers wrapping around his cock. He pumped once, then twice. You watched as Cassian lowered himself, shuffling between your spread legs. He wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs, pulling them apart further to slot himself in between. His wings shivered behind him. He looked up, his hair falling over his forehead, into his brown eyes. 
“Been dreamin of this since that night.”
And then he dragged a finger up your core, collecting the wetness that had pooled, glistening and gorgeous before him. You jumped, an immediate response to his touch, and Cass cooed softly in response, continuing his exploration until his finger was resting on your sensitive clit. It was already throbbing beneath his touch, a hot pulse of desire that seemed to radiate throughout your entire body.
“So needy,” he whispered, in awe. “And so damn wet, Cauldron baby, this all for me?”
He circled it carefully, moving slowly and gently, teasing your clit with delicate, little nudges. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and anticipation that left you breathless and craving more. Cassian knew, now, exactly how to drive you wild. You could feel your arousal building, your body responding to his every touch.
“Oh Gods,” you whispered, hands fisting your sheets. “Please.”
You weren’t sure exactly what it was you were begging for, what you wanted more. You wanted him, wanted to feel him, his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his cock. 
He closed his mouth around you, his tongue pressed firmly against you as he gently sucked. You let out a high-pitched gasp, your jaw hanging open, eyes tightly shut as vibrant colors danced behind your eyelids, sparkling like fireworks, as Cassian continued to lick and suck at you, repeating the same rhythmic pattern. You arched your back, meeting his tongue with eager enthusiasm.
Cassian pulled back slightly and smirked, bringing his middle and pointer fingers to his mouth, getting them wet with his saliva before pushing them into you. Cass groaned at how easily they slid in, at the glistening wetness that pooled around your hole. Your head fell back onto the mattress, overwhelmed with the feeling of his fingers inside you.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Cass.”
Cassian's tongue moved greedily over your clit as your cunt fluttered around the base of his fingers, pulling him in closer, drawing in his touch even more. Cassian swore at the sensation, his lips parting around your cunt as he sucked hard. Your back arched, legs falling away, ass lifted up for his attention. You pushed yourself against his mouth, against his fingers, unrestrained, eyes tightly shut, hands fumbling for something to grab onto. 
“That’s it baby, say my name,” Cass groaned, pulling his mouth from your cunt, pupils blown wide as he stared up at you. He increased the speed of his fingers, curling them to massage the inside of your walls.“Touch your tits for me, sweetheart, play w’them.”
And you did. Your hands moved to your breasts, grabbing them roughly, rolling your nipples in between your fingers as he worked his tongue around your clit, fucking you with his fingers. 
Then you were gripping him by the base of his neck, hands weaving into his hair as you pulled him up to you, his body frantically crawling over yours, hands braced on the mattress. Your lips met his with urgency, a mix of greed and desperation. You sighed in satisfaction as Cass groaned, opening his mouth for you immediately. You pushed further into him with your tongue, a hand sliding further into his hair and tugging gently. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, a heat rushing through your body at the memory of him merely moments ago, suffocating between your legs, lapping at you like a male dying of dehydration.
When you pulled apart, you were breathless, foreheads leaning against each other. You looked at him through your lashes, lids heavy with lust, with desperation to be filled with him.
“I need you inside me.”
Your voice was quiet, a soft plea that made Cassian feel feral. He felt it straight down to his cock, throbbing and ready, aching to feel you clenching around him, to feel you falling apart. 
In a swift movement, he stood up and flipped you over, your breath leaving your lungs. You let out a small squeal as he pulled you onto your knees, following the movement to kneel behind you once more. He roughly spread your legs so that you were spread bare before him, your glistening cunt on full display. He let out an animalistic groan, his hands roughly grabbing your ass, kneading the flesh roughly. 
“You’re telling me I could’ve had you like this all week?”
The sound of his voice alone made you moan, made you squirm underneath him as his hands ran up and down your hips, down to your thighs. He ran finger through the wetness at your core, leaving hot, wet, and open kisses on the backs of your thighs. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, his finger still running through your folds. You let out a sigh of protest at the removal of his mouth, but soon you felt his lips down on your ass once more— as he bit the skin, leaving a mark of ownership, a claim to him.
“Cassian!” 
He stood up, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of you before him, spread wide and beautiful, slick and wet, shining with anticipation for him, for his cock. You looked over your shoulder, watching as Cass smirked, lifting a hand slowly.
The first smack on your ass was startling, hard enough to warm you, heat blooming over the curve of you keened, eyes slipping shut. Your head fell back forward, resting on the mattress. He stroked his cock, allowing it to glide against your entrance until both of you were slick with your desire. 
“You’ve made me wait. I want to hear you beg for it, sweetheart.” You could hear the grin in his voice as he slapped your other ass cheek. “Show me how much you want me."
You sucked in a breath and pushed your ass out further, back arched real pretty, your cheek squished against his mattress, pressing into the soft sheets below you. 
“Cass, please, please.” 
Cassian let out a pained groan and then pressed against you, his chest melting onto your back as his cock slid in, creating a tight, hot, wet stretch. His body pressed against yours even harder, the warmth of his skin seeping into, what felt like, your very being. You felt the muscles in his thighs against you, working in rhythm of his movements as he fucked you, thrusting into you with a pace that had you writhing underneath him. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix that only heightened the sensations coursing through your body, a smell that made you drool. 
“I missed this,” Cassian growled, “Couldn’t stop thinking about fucking this pretty pussy.”
Your eyes fluttered shut, lost in a haze of pure pleasure as you focused on the feeling of Cassian inside you. Each thrust sent cool, electric, shivers down your spine, the sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock causing you to clench around him, begging for more.
His hands gripped your hips with a firm grasp as he drove himself deeper into your body.The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, ragged breaths and incoherent praises falling from both of your lips. With one hand still on your hip, Cassian leaned forward and sunk his other into your hair, tugging you back up with him— a little rough, possessive. He brought your face to his, cheek to cheek as he murmured against you, his breath hot. 
“Fuck, Gods, Y/n,” he groaned out, his voice raspy, deep. He sounded breathless, the words stuttering out of him with every hard thrust. All you could do was moan, letting your body emit every sound that formed in your throat. Cassian’s hands were heavy and bruising, exploring every inch of you as he fucked into you harder, faster. Palming at your hips, your stomach, over the column of your throat. A hand settled there, squeezing at the tender flesh on your neck.
“Whose pussy is this? Huh?”
He asked, breath harsh, voice wrecked. The heat of his body against you made you feel like you were on fire, every part of you being filled with him, warm and pliant in his hands. You wanted to sob with it all, at the pleasure that you were feeling, at the flutter in your chest and the coiling in your stomach. 
“Yours,” you managed to whisper, moving a hand behind your head to frame his face, to delve your fingers into his soft, messy hair. You felt Cassian twitching inside of you, his grip tightening on your throat, the other hand gripping onto your tits. 
“Yeah, baby,” His voice filled your ears as your head fell back into his, his tongue running alongside the side of your neck. He gave you a small bite, quickly sucking to soothe the pain. “Fuckin’ made for me, sweetheart.”  
His hand dropped from your breasts, trailing down your body as he rutted into you faster. His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud. You arched into him, your hand grabbing at his hair tighter, harder, causing him to groan into your neck. His cock slid deep inside you, filling you completely, and you swore you could feel every vein and every ridge as it rubbed against your sensitive walls, as his length stretched you out with every stroke. It was all so overwhelming, suffocating in the best possible way, your pleasure building up, coiling deep within your core. 
The sounds you were emitting made Cassian feel as if he truly were a God, chasing after your release, every sweet sound of yours fueling him to take you, to make you his. 
"Cass, oh gods, Cass, please." 
His name on your lips drove him even wilder, thrusting into you harder. 
"I know, baby. I can feel it. Come for me, come with me."
You felt Cassian’s heart pounding on your back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you. And with another roll of his hips, you were falling apart, clenching around him, both of your eyes slamming shut as he tumbled over after you, falling into the bed. The sensation of your pussy tightening around him caused his own coil to snap, one final thrust into you before he was filling you with his desire, coating the walls of your cunt with his seed. 
He pulled out, cock slightly limp, glistening with your combined fluids— a trail of his cum and your wetness tied you two together, his seed slowly dripping down your core. The sight of it alone had his cock twitching again, stirring at the fact that you were filled with him.
It was beautiful— you were beautiful, breathless before him, body limp with ragged breaths. Cassian was a lucky, lucky man.
That thought also made his cock stir again. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹  
As you leaned back against Cassian's chest in the warmth of the bath, a sense of peace washed over you, gentle and comforting. You welcomed it with open arms, your tired, achy muscles relaxing in the water. Steam filled the room around you, creating a cozy cocoon of comfort, a quiet air that made your heart hum. Cassian's arms encircled you protectively as you leaned against his chest, feeling each rise and fall of his breaths. 
Cassian was gentle when you had finished, his touch soft as you laid on the bed, watching as he brought a warm cloth to your body. He was adamant on being a gentleman, on being tender as he cleaned you up, on running a bath that he had insisted on carrying you to. There was a deeper care, a thoughtfulness in his actions now that touched your heart, made it flutter in a way that had you blushing, cheeks tinged pink with admiration. 
With a soft chuckle, you broke the comfortable silence, your voice filled with a soft tone that made Cassian’s heart beat faster.
“You like me,” you whispered, as you ran your hands along his arm. 
“Actually,” he breathed, placing a small kiss to the top of your head. “I think I’m in love with you.”
And then, as his words sank in, a wide smile spread across your face. You turned to look at him, a rush of warmth flooding your chest as you met his eyes.
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah," he replied, his own smile mirroring yours.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
a/n: for everyone who asked for a part 2, i hope you luved this as much as i did. i just luv these two dummies. be on the look out for a lil valentines day inspired blub of them &lt;;3
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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months
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Christian Woman
(König x Nun!Reader)
Word count: 6.4 k Tags/warnings: Pining intensifies, religious despair intensifies, minor injuries, treatment of wounds, crying, enthusiastic kissing, König gets a few boners. 18+ for eventual smut in this story.
A/N: Don't tell me you wouldn't get horny scared too if you saw this tall guy suddenly emerging from the shadows in his full war gear :) There's a cute date night and a lot of angst in this chapter too, I tried to summon an actual plot here... As always, I need to explain why they’re bonking! But smut is coming, next and last chapter will be full of fluff and steamy first times (Reader is virgin!)
Part 2
You have a feeling that this is the last day you’ll see him.
The stranger from the Austrian Alps, the kindest mercenary you’ve ever met – the only mercenary you’ve ever met – the giant soldier who now carries a piece of your heart with him. You wonder if he even knows he owns it.
The morning prayers and mass are a chore and bring you no comfort, and the usual dawn bliss is gone. You find no delight in singing with your sisters, and withdrawing to your cell for solitary prayer feels like stepping back inside your own personal purgatory. 
You’ve been in heaven and in hell for days now. Maybe since the moment you met him...
But at the same time, you know it must’ve been the Lord who brought you together. There must be a reason for God to make you two meet, you refuse to think it’s only because He wishes to tempt you. There must be a bigger plan; the connection, as sinful and carnal as it is, has to serve some higher purpose.
And you wonder if you’re going mad, because your most sinful thought is that you actually see God in him. It’s just your lower instincts speaking, a demon of some sort that tries to misguide you because no man is like Lord Jesus. 
And yet, don’t they always preach that you meet Him in every person you meet? And that through you, other people meet God too…? 
This reasoning feels much better. It solidifies the mercy you’ve longed for during the brief weeks you’ve known this man who brashly calls himself König. You want to believe that he carries a spark of the Divine in him, and that you hold a grain of the Virgin Mary’s compassion and love in you. 
You decide to hold on to this thought: that you were meant to meet so that you could come to know God through each other. For in König, you see a suffering God, a crucified Christ who rises against evil by offering himself to the cruelty of men. Somehow, the image of him as a mortal man starts to twist into a divine, dark trooper, someone who battles the forces of the evil in this world.
And this reasoning leads you to think that it is only natural that you, a Sister of the Faith, have helped him find some rest and relief in the middle of his work. It’s pretty clear that König has found some solace in your company, and even if things have ventured into a forbidden area of low, simple lust, it’s not dark enough to taint the beauty and grace you've felt together. As long as you hold on to this purity, nothing can go wrong.
While praying for both of you that morning, you find yourself replaying the smiles and touches König has given you these past weeks. You know you will drown yourself in memories after he's gone because they are all you’ll ever have of him.
And they're more than enough.
Or at least they should be…
You feel a tiny dagger of guilt push into your heart, the place reserved for Christ, when you’re assigned to do some spiritual reading instead of helping out in the kitchen or organizing the small library. The appointed texts are about falling into temptation and sin, reminding you about the consequences of such actions. You read the passings with a heavy heart and then slip out to meet König, possibly for the last time.
You wear your everyday clothes to the café, and König says nothing about your sudden moral choice, only gives you another longing, enamored once-over. You keep him at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, and the effects of this unexpected cold shower are immediate. The man doesn’t even try to disguise the sad, puppy-eyed stares he shoots your way. 
You hate it that the bright, playful air of your meetings is gone, and your heart is tearing itself apart in your chest because the only thing you wanted was to spread joy into his world. Even the Lord seems disappointed in you being so cold-hearted, and you can’t bear to see His sadness and suffering in König’s eyes.
You get offered not one, but two coffees today, and a large piece of dark chocolate cake that tastes of pure sin. He talks about how he would love to write to you, but you tell him you can’t be in correspondence with a man who isn’t your brother or father. König isn’t even married, so it would only raise questions – you would find yourself reading spiritual texts about lust and sin until it drives you crazy.
“I’m leaving early tomorrow,” he finally reveals with a voice thick with sorrow. “Can I see you before I go...? One last time?”
“I’d love to, but… I’m sort of being watched,” you say, slowly coming out of your shell to make it clear that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with him, but you simply just can’t.
Your weak, apologetic look is like a dose of confidence shot through his veins because the face opposite of you brightens immediately. König’s whole posture gets a hopeful uplift.
“Just for a little walk...? To see what the city looks like in the evening?”
“I don’t know if I can make it… I have to work until six... And attend the evening prayer at seven. And then silence starts at eight…” 
You’re wringing your hands under the table while you explain, hoping König will come up with a solution to this dilemma.
“We can go for a walk after silence, then,” he shrugs.
“I–I can’t just escape from the window.”
“...Why not?”
You look at König; he looks straight back.
The man’s serious about you sneaking out your window at night; he’s actually serious, even if there’s a dark, playful smile rising on his lips. 
“I can help,” he grins.
Your heart cracks open, it shoots full of light only more and more with that smile. König doesn’t need to ram a door down and shoot his way through your chest; all he has to do is sneak inside your heart and take the place that belongs to God. You don’t even feel the difference as he makes himself at home. 
Well, actually, you do... It’s like your Christ’s love and mercy have finally come to flesh and blood before you. They're materialized in the man sitting opposite of you, bouncing his knee excitedly and grinning like the most innocent little devil on Earth.
You find yourself whispering “Ok”, and the whole world shifts. 
You take a step towards something forbidden but great, your whole heart starts to sing along with life. You haven’t even done the actual thing yet but you’re already filled with bubbling laughter and excitement. If only your friend could see you now, about to do things she probably did when she was fifteen...
But everything feels so right that it can’t be a sin – if it is, it just so happens to be the most natural, most divine thing to do too.
If this is the last day you’ll ever see him, you can surely steal a tiny moment for yourself and forget about rights and wrongs for a moment. Just forget about the rules, and live in the actual world for a few hours, breathe the worldly air, see what normal people do and pretend you’re one of them, for just one night. 
You feel like Cinderella when picking clothes for the evening.
You rummage through the only closet in your room – during the time that should be spent in silent prayer before bed – and notice you still have your old jeans.
They’re light blue and still fit; actually, they fit more than well... You know that König’s eyes will be glued to your butt when you’re not looking.
You have completely forgotten how nice you look in jeans, and it’s the Devil talking, making you admire yourself in tight denim like this. You never cared about how you look before; you certainly never gave much thought to how men see you or if they’re checking out your butt or breasts. Now you’re grooming yourself like never before, trying to decide what to do with your hair as if your life depended on it.
You choose a simple, black t-shirt to pair with the jeans and not make it too obvious that you’re trying to flaunt yourself. It hugs your form but is otherwise plain, and for some people, your choice of clothing is probably their regular work outfit. To you, it feels like you’re about to go out to seduce everyone.
Everything’s so tight and earthly; everything’s so… there. Visible... Touchable.
Lord, have mercy on me. I know I’m weak. But please let me have this, just this once…
And König has seen you without makeup all this time, so what on earth has possessed you to lament the fact that you don’t own a single case of lipstick? You’d kill for a few sweeps of mascara, too, just to bat your lashes at a silly man.
It’s not a date, you remind yourself.
It’s not a date... It’s not a date. You’re just going to have a short walk with him.
And you fear that accepting König’s “help” was a mistake. If you get caught with a man on the convent perimeter, you’ll get your ass thoroughly whooped…
Can a man of his size even keep quiet?
He probably suggested it so that you wouldn’t chicken out of this. If König is at your window by 8 and there’s no sign of you, he’ll probably just come in, throw you on his shoulder and jump out. He knows where your window is located now, and surely has some questionable skills due to his profession, skills you know nothing about, but you’re still about to have a panic attack from pure excitement when the clock strikes 8. 
You push the window ajar and settle on the sill to keep watch, gasping when you hear his familiar accent down below as soon as the window is open.
“Kätzchen...”
“König…?”
You peek down and meet his stupid, grinning face – God, he’s so happy to see you kept your promise. His eyes are shining, his fingers interlock to help you have something to place your foot on. 
“Here, kitty, kitty…”
You could easily jump out the window without hurting yourself, but of course he wants to help you since you were so kind to tell him where he could come and "pick you up".
But to see that playful smile and hear him trying to coax you out like you’re some skittish little kitten…
Could a grown man get any more silly?
You wiggle yourself out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he’s probably staring at your butt, still grinning like crazy while you do it. 
SupportING your entire weight like it’s no trouble at all, he helps you down. You’ve never been this close to him since you bumped into him: you have to take support from his shoulders as you search for a footing, and he scoops you in his arms the minute both your feet are safely on the ground.
“I knew you’d come,” he purrs with joy, and you place your hands on his chest – not to keep him at bay, but to touch him in a way that is as appropriate as possible when a man is hugging you like this.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whisper, still unsure if this is the best or the worst decision of your entire life.
“Kitty… Live a little, hmm?”
You have to crane your neck to look up at him – you’re not sure if you’re in the embrace of Jesus or Lucifer because the warmth of those eyes compare to the love of God, but they also make you weak and helpless. Whenever you’re with your sisters, the feeling is pure, pristine love, not a surge of complex emotions and thrill like it is with König.
“You’re a bad influence,” you breathe – König only laughs, and the grip around you tightens. 
“My lady. You’re the one who climbed out the window.”
“Because someone would’ve probably thrown small rocks on it if I hadn’t…!”
“Natürlich. And if that didn’t work… A serenade or two. Do you like love songs?” 
You look down at his chest, smiling, heart fluttering at the thought of a silly Austrian man serenading under your window. You have no trouble imagining him singing something syrupy in German, waking everyone up with his racket.
“You’re crazy, did you know that...?” 
“Sure. They tell me that all the time at work. Aber du… Du bist süss.” 
“...What’s that?” 
His smile only widens as he takes in your lips, your neck, the tight shirt that finally gives him something more to look at.
“You’re cute.”
The whole evening is heavenly. 
It’s everything you’ve ever wanted from a date and more.
He doesn’t take you for a short walk, oh no. He takes you out to eat, at some lively restaurant where they serve delicious, artisan, wood-fired pizzas. You have créme brûlée for dessert, and König gives you his strawberries when he notices you eat them first, but only on one condition: you have to let him feed them to you one by one. 
He buys you a rose: a big, red, plump one. No man has ever bought you flowers before, and even if you love lush, abundant bouquets, the fact that he chose you a single red rose after you’ve spoken about the beauty of simplicity, doesn't escape you.
König hasn’t only listened to you these past few weeks: he gets you. And how symbolic is it that he chose a rose that’s also tied to all the mysteries of God?
You walk the streets with a flower in one hand and his palm in the other. It's a holy trinity of him and you and the Great Mystery, it’s passion and it’s thorns, it’s blood and beauty and pain, and you feel like he just gets you; he knows you through and through. 
You pass by an outdoor bar with live music, and the place is so crowded that people are dancing on the streets. No cars honk as they slowly pass by the scene, the music and the laughing, dancing pairs make even the grumpiest passersby smile.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that König pulls you to him before you get to escape the scene. You’re drawn flush against his chest, hips colliding with his, hands finding each other in a slow sway that has never even seen the steps of Latin dances.
“Nuns are allowed to dance, no?” 
He smiles dreamily, enveloped in the same sweet haze as you.
“Not with a man,” you correct, but don’t even bother to push him away. Instead, you let König guide his hand down your waist and draw you closer. If this isn't a date, you don't know what is...
“I can take the blame,” he says. “You can tell everybody it was me.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” you laugh. 
“Why not?” 
His eyes are glued to yours, making you warm all over, so much so that you feel like you’re burning from the neck up. You guide your stare down to his chest, then over to the quick heartbeat on his neck.
He's nervous, too... Your cruel soldier is nervous, and kind, and shy because he's pressed against you.
You rest your head there on his chest, watching the golden sunset far away, painting the rooftops with a genial glow. Your heart is made of molten gold, too, as you allow yourself find a home in his embrace.
“I can take your sins,” he promises above you. “Jesus did that too, right?”
“You’re not Jesus,” you smile against his shirt – black, always black...
“Are you sure? I would go to hell for you.”
Your dance comes to a halt as you swallow and lift your gaze. The smiles are gone now, both yours and his. He’s so close now he could touch your lips with his if he wanted to.
And he does want to.
You don’t shy away as he leans down to kiss you. It’s chaste at first, a slow exploration, but then he opens your mouth with his, demanding, hot, intoxicating. You melt in his arms, and he somehow supports you through it all, turning the dance into an embrace and the decent little kiss into a full French one.
It’s hot and wet and slow, so, so passionate that your knees are about to give in. You devour him back, feel how he grows hard against your stomach – the swelling erection makes you dizzy before you come to your senses, but only barely.
You break away an inch, panting into his mouth while he’s panting into yours. What a blessing that you don’t own any lipstick; both of your lips are red without it…
“This is–”
“Inappropriate?”
His voice is husky, and sends a flood of wetness down between your legs. Your heart is racing, but you can’t even note how terribly alive you are before he attacks your lips again.
The kiss is even more desperate than the first one, and the slow urgency is gone. His mouth leaves you without air, and then – he wraps his arms around you and picks you up from the ground like you weigh nothing. Your hands get squished somewhere between you, naturally coming to cup his face as you kiss him back. 
It’s eager, pure lust, so powerful and needy that it scorches through your chest and ties your heartstrings into tight little knots, makes your brows knit together, too.
He grunts into your mouth, sensing you’re more than up for this after all. You let him see the full depth of your hunger and your lust, just waiting to be released and taken – made love to until you’re both sore and messy and limp.
God… This is better than God…
You hear whistles and whoos in the distance, some men yelling, “Let’s go!” and “Get a room” while they pass by. Realizing you’ve fallen into a dream trap of strong arms and needy lips about to depart tomorrow, you know it's something you could have had years ago, perhaps, but not anymore. You'll lose everything if you break your vows tonight: basically, you’ve already broken them, but no permanent damage has been done.
You can still turn back if you turn back now…
You push yourself away, push him away, heart clenching when you see his adoring, love-drunk, half-lidded stare.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you come down from your high. “I just–I can’t…”
He breathes labouriously, still clutching you against him, holding you in the air like you’re the thing he has searched for his entire life and now, finally discovered… Only to be told that he now has to put it back where he found it. 
You’re crying by the time he sets you down, and you have no heart or will to pull away. Instead, you bury your face in his chest and cry your fill in his shirt. It’s soon damp from your tears as König hugs and supports you through his own stoic heartbreak.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry…”
You repeat it until you can’t repeat it anymore, bawling in his chest while the world around you continues to spin despite your heaven and hell, despite your vows, despite your stupid devotion. The world revolves like it always has, as you choose a crucified man over the one who’s flesh and blood and holds you through your pain.
“Kätzchen, don’t cry,” he pets your hair while you sniffle and tremble in his embrace. You know this is not the last time you will cry your heart out over him, but knowing it doesn't help you when he offers you his last, bittersweet comfort.
“It was a good dream while it lasted...”
The rose withers in your cell.
You turn it upside down and tie it to the curtain rod to prevent it from dropping its petals. It dries beautifully and keeps its bloodred colour, now reminding you of both Jesus and him. 
There hasn’t been a word from König in months, and of course there hasn’t. You denied his wish to write you, and the dried rose is the only thing left of your time with him. 
In the first weeks, it’s hard to keep up a charade. You show up to prayer, work and mass with red eyes, revealing to everyone that you’re going through a loss of some sort. Somewhere during the first week, the abbess summons you to meet her and you brace yourself for a scolding.
God knows you don’t need the rebuke, and when you close the door and turn to face the symbolic mother of the convent, you end up breaking into tears right in front of her.
“Whatever you were up to, my child, I am glad that it is over now,” she says with all the gentleness of the world. 
“Me too,” your voice breaks, and when the abbess extends her hands, you go to her, fall to your knees, and have another heartwrenching cry with your face in her lap.
You’ve denied yourself love and mercy for days, expecting to be expelled or shamed or ridiculed, but mercy is what you’re offered now, even after you’ve sinned.
The abbess caresses your hair just as softly as König did just days ago, and the fact that her kind gesture reminds you of some silly, infatuated soldier, only makes the breakdown worse. You bawl like a little child who’s deprived of candy, and you don’t even have the strength to berate yourself for it.
“I hope you haven’t done anything irredeemable...?” 
“No... Nothing happened,” you sob and look out of the rose window, desperate for sun while your head rests on a gentle but distant lap. 
Nothing happened except the most sinful, beautiful, lustful kiss of your life... Nothing happened except that you saw this man every time you could, held hands with him, swam in his smiles and affection, and went to bed with thoughts inappropriate for any human being. 
“The world tests us in many ways... But Lord never tests us. He only loves us.”
Something in that sentence finally quenches the neverending flow of tears. Your muscles start to relax, and you remember that this is the eternal truth: to surrender, over and over again, to a power far greater than you. 
The abbess never asks for details about what you have done. She never tells you you have sinned; you don’t need to be told that. The punishment has been dealt already: whoever ties herself to this world and its temptations will suffer exactly like this when the passion and excitement ends. The key to escaping its grip is to simply let go first, once and for all, surrender to the love of God, and trust that everything fill fall into place eventually.
“You must offer your mind and body to work now,” the motherly voice speaks above you. “Work, time and prayer will ease your pain.”
Work, time and prayer do ease the pain. 
They ease all pains, but it takes almost six months to stop thinking about him every hour of every day.
You’re proud of yourself when you find out one day that you haven’t thought about him at all. He just now crossed your mind when you remember how he used to smell: of salty seabreeze mixed with intoxicating musk, the scent of excitement and safety all in one. 
You could almost swear you catch a whiff of that particular scent in the yard when you go and water the flowers one evening, but it can’t be: he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you even want to do about it because you already made your choice. This path leads you to greater peace of mind in the long run, and you know you made the right decision even if it hurt you and König.
Sunsets still remind you of him, the colour of rose and gold mixed with endings, but the memories are now laced with bittersweet love rather than blunt despair and pain. The times you spent with him are a collection of brief, blissful moments, and you treasure every single one of them in your heart. You still pray for him, not every day, but nearly every day. You touch the rose when the hurt reaches its peak, but the last time you did that was almost a week ago.
And you thought you had forgotten his scent, but apparently, you have not. In fact, it seems to drift to your nose again, which is odd because you’re outside, after all…
“Kätzchen.” 
A whisper is hissed from the shadows just as you’re about to straighten and investigate, because either you’re going crazy or then there’s someone here who smells exactly like him.
You startle and almost drop the watering can, staring straight into the shadows under your window. The tallest man you’ve ever seen steps out from the dark in full combat gear, and while you can’t see his face because it’s covered with a draping black hood, you recognize it’s him simply from the way he moves. 
“Don’t be afraid. It’s me,” he rasps and tries to straighten from the slightly hunched position he’s in, but immediately falls back, then slants to lean on the wall. His gear is dirty, and he holds the side of his stomach with one hand, the lively blue eyes either drunk or very very tired.
“Dear God… What happened to you?”
You abandon the watering can and rush to him; it’s useless to ask if he’s injured when, clearly, he’s trying to prevent himself from slumping to the ground. 
He’s enormous and intimidating even when wounded, a soldier loaded with ammo and weapons and protective paddings and guards, wearing a hood and a helmet and a radio of some sort, his tactical gloves bloody and eyes droopy. The weapon by his side is almost half as tall as you, and God – is that a grenade strapped to his vest?
“I got compromised,” König looks down at the wound but doesn’t remove his hand. He looks so different, like another man entirely when he’s not dressed in his customary olive green pants and a casual black t-shirt. He seems even buffier now, even taller, so terrifying that you wonder if you ever even knew this man.
You must look like a frightened deer because König mistakes your horrified look as sweet, simple concern.
“Don’t worry... They have it much worse, I assure you,” he says with his usual grin – you can hear it from the way he says it that he’s smiling. But it’s so weary now, so exhausted and frail compared to his confident, playful laughs and that husky voice with which he spoke to you after your kiss.
“I came to ask for help,” he continues under his breath, wobbling even when leaning against a wall. “You’re the only one I can… trust.”
“Of course, anything. I will do anything I can.”
His eyes smile down at you from behind the executioner’s veil. It’s that same devoted stare you’ve been trying to dispel for months now. You give yourself a quick mental shake, then tell him to wait here while you go in and call for an ambulance. 
König bounces off the wall and seizes your hand, telling you he can’t go to a hospital and that, if anything, he must avoid any kind of public places. You don’t ask any further questions, even if you know you’re in a pickle now, and not only because those glacial eyes are making your knees weak again. There’s nothing much you can do: he’s wounded and still in danger, saying he can’t trust anyone else. Of course you have to help him in any way you can. If he says it’s not safe, then you must help him get somewhere where it is safe. 
And besides, aren’t you a nun? You’re supposed to help those in need. 
So when he asks you if there are any motels or a bed & breakfast nearby, you say you know just the place. 
It makes your heart bleed that König takes support from you while you slowly make your way down the street. A man of his size, a body trained to withstand whatever his job throws at him, seeking support from a frail little nun… It’s a joke, indeed, and a horrid one. 
When you get to the small place run by a humble old man, you don’t know who to feel more sorry for: the elder behind the counter or König, desperately trying to stay on his feet.
“I mean no trouble,” he says while pushing an unnerving amount of money across the table. “I just need a place to rest.”
The receptionist’s eyes dart to you, then back to König, who still has what you suppose is a loaded rifle dangling by his waist. The safety is on, probably, but there are also knives and grenades strapped to his person, and with that hood, he mainly looks like a terrorist of some sort.
“She’s here to help. See...? Bride of Christ. Even less trouble than I am.” 
You try to smile reassuringly as the man risks a better look at you now instead of being fixated on König or his weapons.
You must make an odd pair, a soldier and a nun... The old man probably has a ton of questions in his head right now.
“No shooting,” he says to you, but his words are directed at König.
“No shooting,” he promises. “No mess if no one knows we’re here. Ok...? You’ve never even seen us.”
The receptionist nods. Then he extends a trembling hand and takes the money, and hands out a key without taking any check-in information.
You go to König and help him up the small stairs and into his room paid with bloody money and a menacing appearance. The fitted carpet is old, and floral patterned, the room small and adorable and meant for visitors far more petite than König. The bedspread is old-fashioned and floral too and has never even seen blood, of that you are sure when König lays himself down with a grunt. 
You spend the next minutes – or hours, you can’t tell – in a tunnel-visioned fog as you do exactly as he says.
You help him out of his gear and weapons and lay them aside quickly but gently, you cut his shirt with an ugly-looking knife, then get a watered towel for him to press against the wound. You rush back to his tactical vest and search for a first aid kit and some medicine, and start to treat his wounds per his advice.
The sun sets in the window, and you patch up your injured soldier with care, trusting his word when he says it’s only a flesh wound and that it looks far worse than it is.
“I should get shot more often,” he purrs when you’re cleaning the rest of the blood off his skin.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scold, trying to focus on your task and not the vast plates that make his chest. Or the thick abs, right there under your fingertips… Or the fact that he has incredibly narrow hips, and a luscious breath of dark hair leading from his navel down and underneath the waistband of his pants. 
You suppose this is what your friend calls a happy trail...
And it does make you very happy.
You don’t dare to look beyond that because the pants he usually wears aren’t as tight as these, and you fear he’ll catch you checking out his junk in an attempt to see if your friend was correct about his size. 
To your blessing – or your curse – you don’t even have to look straight at it to see he’s having an erection. You can actually see from the corner of your eye how König grows hard while you’re treating him – it’s right there, a robust tent that rises beside you while you concentrate on wiping off the blood. 
“Pay no mind to that,” he says thickly and completely without shame. “It just happens… Can’t control it.”
He breathes a bit too heavy for someone who’s lying down, and you fear it’s because of the blood loss. But then you start to suspect it’s probably because all the remaining blood has gone between his legs… He doesn’t even try to tone down the heated, obsessive stares he shoots your way, and you suppose he’s either missed you very much, or then there’s a fever rising after all. You’re not sure if you’re glad or disappointed that the bullet didn’t scrape his leg instead.
“I missed you,” he says like he just read your thoughts. He whispers the sentence slowly and with purpose, saying it like a long-withheld secret.
“I missed you too,” you whisper back. 
Gosh… Here you are, a silly little nun who’s tried to get over a crush for six months, crying after him at night and caressing his rose during the day. You’ve been petting a withering flower some mercenary gave you in hopes of getting into your pants, you’ve fawned over memories of a few smiles and a kiss, all the while the said mercenary has killed people for money and now got shot. He came here to work again, but never sent a message, he only came to see you when he was injured… 
...And you’re glad he did. If a bullet was needed to bring him back to you, then you’re grateful for it, no matter how horrible it is.
“Did you ever… find someone?” You ask while keeping your gaze fixed on his navel instead of the raging bulge in his pants.
“Someone, who?”
“Someone to hold hands with.”
He gives a strained laugh. “Ah. No. No time for that.”
You swallow, and slowly guide your eyes to his.
“Are you still happy with your crucified man?”
Ouch.
“I… I don’t know.”
His brows knit together; you can see it even in the dim light of the table lamp, you can see it even if there’s some godforsaken black war paint all over his face under that hood.
There’s a distant hurt in his eyes before he blinks softly, slowly.
“I wrote to you, Braut Christi... Many times. Never sent the letters… They’re still in my room, at the base.”
Your heart skips a beat. 
He hasn’t had “time” for women, yet has written you letters all these months. He’s written letters while you’ve caressed a rose…. 
You wonder if hearts can find each other, even through a distance, and if you’ve felt the urge to go to the flower he gave you at the same time König has gotten the desire to write another letter to you. It’s bittersweet, like this whole thing between you two, the mystery that both brings you together and rips you apart. 
“I wish I hadn’t… I wish I...” you start, but can’t bring yourself to finish.
“Liebling. I should’ve sent them anyway.”
You go get rid of the bloodied paper towels before you start to cry in front of him.
God… You’re not only in a pickle, you’re neck-deep in trouble, and you only notice you forgot to wash your hands when you return to him.
He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Peace settles in, even if there’s blood on your hands and the man you adore is lying next to you, patched up with the help of a first aid kit when he should be lying in a hospital, receiving treatment and care.
There’s a knife and a pistol tucked under the bedspread, next to his hand, and the fact that he’s still prepared to fight anyone who tries to come through that door underlines the fact that you two come from very different worlds. König is more than just a rose buying, coffee offering gentleman, he's more than just a silly guy who threatens to sing serenades under your window if you don’t come out to play with him.
You’re not sure if you’re more enamoured or scared.
“You’re an angel,” he rasps from the bed as you try to swallow the tears that refuse to go down.
“No I’m not.” 
“Yes, you are.”
A teardrop falls on the innocent floral bedspread as you wish you were in this room as a married couple instead of an injured, horny soldier and a childish nun in love. Spending your honeymoon or something, getting some rest after an eventful day in town, choosing this absurd old Bed & Breakfast as your place to stay for the night.
You wish you were doing anything else than treating his wounds, lethal or not.
“Are you crying?”
His voice is gentler than you even remembered. Six months of despair have turned him into a dark, alluring trickster when he’s really just a man, a big, amazing, tender man who’s multifaceted, multitalented, and always kind.
He's about to fall asleep, and it’s no wonder. The events of the evening have left you drained, too. You kneel beside his bed, too tired to even sit on a chair, wondering if he’ll die from his wounds tonight or get hunted down by the people who still want him dead. 
“I wish you would stop killing people... I wish you would stop getting killed.” 
You must look silly, kneeling beside a giant soldier’s bed, crying and holding his hand between yours as if praying. But his eyes smile at you, and while you’d want nothing more than to see his face again, you realise you kind of like König this way. Masked and menacing and mean to his enemies, but stripped down to his soul when he’s with you.
“I wish you would stop praying... And start living,” he mutters gently.
“Praying helps sometimes,” you whisper.
In truth, you wish you’d start living, too. You always thought you were brave when you said ‘no’ to the world. Perhaps you were only running away from it…
The hand is warm but not feverish. His breaths start to even, and his lids get heavier; his thumb gives you a small caress before he drifts off to sleep.
“Perhaps that’s why I’m still here, Kätzchen.”
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irndad · 11 months
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hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺
enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily
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He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 
And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 
But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 
Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 
It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”
His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 
“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 
“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“
“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”
It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.
It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.
“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”
A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 
He’s just so tired. 
He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 
His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 
His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 
“Are you planning on coming to bed?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 
“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”
Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”
She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 
“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.
“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”
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yourmidnightlover · 1 month
Text
the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
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you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
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wosounited · 1 day
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Hey,
I like when reader is hiding relationship with Leah from her sister. And it gets really angsty but in the end they work it out.
Maybe you could write something like that
You Weren’t Meant to be Home (Leah Williamson x Walsh!Reader)
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Leah had a reputation, one that she was proud of and done hard to maintain. Since her last relationship had crashed and burned, she’d been doing anything and everything to not get attached and tied down to someone again. The dynamics were working for her. She lived alone and didn’t have to answer to anyone about the amount of girls that had slipped in and out of her sheets on a weekly basis.
Since her ACL injury, she’d been partying a lot more, to get over the pain of missing the Champions League and more importantly, the World Cup. Usually, it would be with her best mate Alex at a boojie event that Alex had brought her as a plus one. Her partying antics followed her all the way to Australia at the World Cup, when she’d eventually flown over.
You’d been there all Summer, travelling around the country but getting back in time to watch your sister play. You weren’t a big football fan, but your sister playing in a World Cup was more than enough of an excuse to travel to Australia. It was all you and your best friend, Amy, had dreamed of for years, so this was your chance. Amy also wasn’t an overly big football fan, much to the annoyance of your older sister.
“So, you guys haven’t lost yet?” Amy asked Keira and Georgia, while the four of you were on a walk, soaking up the sun while they had some downtime.
“Do you not understand how the World Cup works?” Keira frowned.
“We do” you giggled, shushing Amy’s laughter down. “We totally get it, it’s just we’re a bit preoccupied doing Australian things” you shrugged.
“Australian girls?” Georgia laughed as Keira punched her into the arm.
“That’s my sister!” Keira snapped.
“It’s not me doing your sister” Georgia protested, holding her hands up in surrender.
“God, can we please change the conversation?” you groaned at the current topic of conversation with your sister being your sex life.
You continued on your walk, back towards the team hotel to drop Keira and Georgia off. Amy and Keira were just ahead, laughing about a story Amy was telling her from someone back at home she had recently had a brief fling with.
“Has there been many?” Georgia smirked, wriggling her eyebrows at you, as you rolled your eyes. “Come on, I won’t tell Kei”
“Maybe four or five?” You guessed, not fully remembering the exact number of girls you’d been with since you got here.
“This is why I always said I felt like we were destined to be friends, instead of me and Kei” Georgia laughed, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah G” you squeezed her arm. “Leah’s coming soon, isn’t she? You both excited to see her?” You smiled as Georgia nodded frantically.
You didn’t really know Leah that well. She was your sister’s best friend, but she wasn’t as friendly or approachable as Georgia was. You knew Georgia a lot better due to her and Keira playing together in Manchester for a long time. The only thing you knew about Leah from all the times you’d met her or went out with her was, she was stone cold to you. She’d barely even acknowledge you were in the room as her.
You hugged the two of them goodbye when you got to the team hotel and headed off back to your own, to get ready for the shenanigans you and Amy were set to get up to tonight.
You’d seen pretty much everywhere you wanted to at this stage in Australia, making memories to last a life time. You were staying in Sydney for the remainder of the trip, and were on your best behaviour due to being in the same place as your parents.
“Please” Amy begged when you said you weren’t going out tonight.
“My head hasn’t even recovered fully from last night” you groaned. You found it funny your sister was here to be an elite athlete, playing in the biggest tournament possible. While you were here to see how drunk you could get. You were both achieving great things in your field.
“The best way to get over a hangover is to drink more” Amy shouted, throwing nice clothes at you from your wardrobe. You eventually agreed and headed out to a nightclub that had been heavily recommended by some Australians that were staying in your hotel. The same group that were currently in the night club beckoning the two of you over to join them on the dance floor.
Amy was off to the side of the group with one of the boys, while you were happily drunk dancing with the remainder of the group. You’d excused yourself to grab a drink for you and another girl, before quickly rejoining them. You’d been dancing with this girl all night really, presuming things were getting a bit flirty. She’d just turned off to start talking to a guy that approached her as you internally groaned, and took a bit sip of your drink.
“You look so good tonight, baby” another guy in the group mumbled as his hands met your waist and he pulled you towards him.
“You’re alright, thank you” you shook your head as you tried to pierce his hands off you. “Can you let go, please?” You asked.
“Come on, do you not want a bit of fun?” He smirked.
“I’m not into guys” you squeezed his hand to try and get him off, but he was persistent.
“I could change that” he grinned, pulling you against him impossibly closer. It was there and then that your heart sunk. You were defenceless and nobody from the group seemed to be watching.
“Y/n?” You heard an angel like voice shout, as you looked up to see Leah. She mightn’t have known you overly well, but it was evident you didn’t want whatever he was trying. “You alright babe?” Leah asked, putting her hand out, which you took without flinching or hesitating for even a split second.
“No” you shook your head.
“Mate, let fucking go” Leah grunted as he freed his grip slightly. Leah found it to be her obligation right now to keep you safe as Keira’s best friend, and was willing to do anything possible to protect you. “That’s my girlfriend” she shouted as he fully let go and pushed you away from him.
“Sorry mate, didn’t know she was with you” he put his hands up apologetically, apologising to Leah more so than you.
“Thank you” you whispered as she pulled you against her by your waist, still playing the part. You didn’t really care that she had her hands on you, even if it was a similar grip than what he had.
“You alright? Are you here with someone?” She asked.
“Amy” you pointed at your friend, still with the nicer boy in the group. “I really appreciate that, girlfriend” you smirked as she reciprocated your facial expression.
“Why don’t you kiss me? Make it more believable?” Leah winked with a cheeky laugh.
“Come on Captain Williamson, I’ll get you a drink” you smiled, pulling her by the hand towards the bar. “Who are you here with?” You asked.
“Alex, Jill, you know” she pointed over to the group of ex footballers that were also at the nightclub. Although, the section they were in looked a lot more exclusive.
“I’ll leave you to it, thanks again” you smiled, turning hesitantly to walk back towards the group you’d been dancing with.
“Don’t be stupid” Leah shouted, grabbing your wrist. “I don’t want you going back over anywhere near him” she frowned. “Stay with me” she whispered softly as you nodded at her, and let her guide you towards her friends, now interlocking your fingers and pulling you gently towards them.
You knew most of the girls and they at least knew of you from Keira. They were all really friendly, and made sure to keep good drinks and vibes going throughout the night. Around 1am, when Amy had finally removed herself from the Australian boy she had been literally clung to all night, she skipped over to let you know she was leaving with him.
“Give me your phone” you clicked your fingers at her as she willingly handed it over without hesitation. You made sure every app that you could see her location was turned on before handing it back to her.
“Have fun” you smirked as she kissed your cheek with a giggle.
“I’ll make sure she gets home alright” Leah inputted, sliding up beside you on the couch you were sitting on, placing a protective hand on your knee.
“Oh thank you, almighty Leah Williamson” Amy teased, making a bowing motion before she left with the boy.
“Do you wanna dance?” Leah whispered in your ear.
“Yeah” you smiled as you both got up and headed to the dancefloor.
Leah was getting a bit touchy but you didn’t really care, because you were too. You were also both incredibly drunk, which probably wasn’t helping.
“I wasn’t joking before, you should kiss me” Leah slurred, beyond the point of drunk now to be embarrassed of what she was saying.
“I thought you hated me” you laughed as she frowned and shook her head. “What would we tell Keira?” You asked as her eyes fell to your lips.
“Nothing” she mumbled before she leaned in and kissed you. You kissed her back instantly, immediately switching the intensity of the kiss. It was a bad idea, such a bad idea. But her lips felt so good against yours, and you just couldn’t help it. “Did Amy take your hotel room then?” Leah asked as you shook your head. You had two bedrooms in the apartment anyway, incase of moments like these.
“Do you want to come back?” You asked as she nodded at you, eagerly, before kissing you again.
It was a few minutes after when you’d broken apart and she gestured you towards the door, while she headed in the opposite direction to get both of your stuff from the seats.
“I’m going to walk y/n back to her hotel” Leah shouted over the music at Alex.
“In other words, you’re going to fuck your best mates sister?” Alex laughed. “I saw you two” she added. Thankfully, nobody else had.
“You’re my best mate” Leah tried talking herself out of it.
“Leah” Alex raised her eyebrows, not falling for Leah’s bullshit.
“What? That’s not Keira’s sister, that’s her twin” Leah smirked, thinking she’d talked herself out of it this time.
“Okay? That would still make that girl Keira’s sister” Alex chuckled as Leah rolled her eyes. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing? You’re not going to wake up tomorrow and feel bad?” Alex asked as Leah looked back at you, standing waiting for her by the door.
“I’m sure” she nodded as Alex patted her shoulder.
It was different with her on the walk back, it was comfortable, almost like it was a regular occurrence. But when you got back to your hotel room, you continued where you left off at the nightclub.
Leah was by far the best you’d ever had. It wasn’t even close. But the guilt that ripped through you when you came to your senses, made you realise it wasn’t worth it. Well, you tried to make yourself believe it wasn’t worth it.
“Keira can never, ever know” you hummed and shook your head, while the blonde nodded in agreement. A similar guilty expression was evident on her face too now that she’d sobered up.
“You know, I’ve actually really liked you for a long time” Leah was a straight forward person, and was used to getting what she wanted.
“You need to work on your flirting skills then, because I always presumed you hated me” you shrugged, thinking it was just a line she was using.
“Well, I knew you’d never want to be with me because of Keira” Leah mumbled, and you knew by her expression she was being sincere.
“Well, you thought wrong” you shrugged. “I don’t want you to go tonight” you whispered as she smiled back at you.
“Then I won’t go” she said, shuffling back towards you in the bed. She pulled you in against her as you both drifted off really quickly.
When you woke the next morning, Leah wasn’t in the bed beside you, which wasn’t a surprise. The amount of girls you’d been with that would tell you everything you wanted to hear to sleep with you and then be gone before you woke. They just didn’t know that it was the last thing you wanted to hear, you weren’t looking for a commitment. At least you thought you weren’t, until Leah strutted back into the bedroom.
“Oh, you’re awake” she smiled. Holding a mug in one hand and a sudoku book in the other. A book that must have belonged to Amy and she’d rooted it out from God know’s where.
“You’re still here?” You asked, with a small uptick of your lips.
“Is that alright?”
“As long as you’re coming back to bed” you smirked as she placed her mug and book down, spread open on the page of her puzzle.
“Do you drink tea or coffee? I can make you one” she asked.
“Coffee” you nodded.
“Milk? Sugar?” She shouted as you called back how you took your coffee.
She came back to bed after a few minutes with coffee, finding you trying to work out the sudoku that she’d been working on all morning. She left the mug on your bedside table before slotting in beside you. You tucked into her, still holding the book as you both worked the sudoku out together.
“Not to make this weird” Leah began. “But this is like, my ideal morning”
“I mean, I would rather go out for some fresh air than sit in bed doing sudoku” you laughed.
“Y/n?” Amy shouted, slamming the front door and heading straight to your bedroom in the apartment, before either you or Leah had time to react. “Oh, hello” she smirked.
“Get out” you moaned.
“Did you get lost, Leah?” Amy teased.
“You weren’t meant to be home yet” you huffed.
“Well I’m home now, baby” she laughed. “I am going for brunch with Jason, the boy from last night, so I will leave you two lovers in peace” she headed back to her bedroom as you let out a sigh.
“Well, come on then” Leah said shuffling out from underneath you, as you looked at her confused. “Let’s go for a walk, and get you a proper coffee”
You got up and got ready, letting Amy know you wouldn’t be too long and to enjoy brunch. You always made it extremely clear she could not mention a word of this to Keira, under any circumstances.
You made a pit stop at Leah’s hotel so she could get changed into something that wasn’t last nights clothes.
You walked and talked for around 2 hours, totally losing track of time. You talked about everything you would with someone on a first date. Hobbies, dreams, passions, your careers. One thing that didn’t seem to come up though, was your sister, and that guilt you both felt last night. That was long forgotten. Leah’s fingertips had brushed off your hand too many times, and it was driving you demented.
“Just hold my hand” you said, grabbing her hand and slotting it in yours.
“I was trying to be subtle” she shrugged with a laugh.
It was another while before you felt your phone buzz to see Amy calling. That was when Leah checked her phone to, seeing missed calls from both Alex and Georgia.
“I better go” you both said at the same time, before laughing.
“Hey, y/n” Leah whispered, grabbing your wrist to stop you walking away, even though you were yet to move. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing” she shook her head.
“Me neither” you added.
“Could we talk maybe when we both get back to England? You’re living in London now, right?” She asked and you nodded. “I’ll take you out” she smiled.
“I look forward to it” you kissed her cheek before you both turned off in different directions, and returning the missed calls you both had.
True to her word, Leah took you out on a date when you both got back from Australia. Despite the heartbreak she felt about England losing the World Cup, she somehow managed to not forget what she’d promised you.
You didn’t know if she was actually going to take you out, so you decided maybe right before a World Cup final, or after, when they’d lost, wasn’t the best time to mention to Keira that you’d slept with her best friend.
You went out on several dates with Leah, and you’d both stayed in eachothers places a few nights now. You were both getting closer, and eventually she asked you out, officially.
After 8 months, you both still hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone. You were both happy and didn’t want anybody or anything to jeopardise the relationship so early on. Only two people knew, due to them having to bear witness to you both in Australia and that was Alex and Amy. Who have since both walked in on you several times in the last 8 months.
“Babe” Leah shouted as she came into your apartment, straight from training.
“In here” you called back from the living room. You had dinner waiting and the show you have been watching together paused.
You weren’t living together, as that would have required you both being open about being together. But you may as well have been. You can’t remember a night where she wasn’t in your apartment, or you weren’t in hers.
“You’re late” you huffed.
“Sorry, got held up with some stupid interview” she mumbled as you pulled her into a kiss, “But I’m tearing up my contract tomorrow” she smirked as her body pressed you further into the couch. Her lips were practically glued to your neck, the food and TV long forgotten now.
She’d just pulled her training top over her head, with a little help from you, when your phone buzzed.
Keira.
“Shit” Leah groaned when she saw the caller ID requesting to facetime.
“Put your fucking T-shirt on” you snapped as she leaned over to get it and you grabbed your phone, reminding her to stay quiet. “Hey Kei” you smiled as your sister appeared on the other side of the screen. You were just ignoring your sisters idiotic best friend battling with her training top, thankfully out of sight from your camera.
“Hey, I just wanted to see if you were still coming next week?” She smiled as you saw Leah starting to smirk.
“Yeah, yeah of course” you nodded. “Is that okay?” You asked.
“Yeah, more than okay” she chuckled. “Just, Laura is going to be here and then Leah is coming as well so you and her can rock, paper, scissors for the bed and couch” she laughed. Leah’s smug look on her face was only growing and growing as she started acting out a rock, paper, scissors.
“Yeah, we will figure it out” you nodded with a smile, waving your hand at the blonde and trying to pretend the topic of conversation was not stood right in front of you, with her T-shirt not even passing her shoulders. “Listen Kei, I was just about to eat dinner” you said, trying to rush her off the phone.
“Weird thing to call me, but okay” Leah mumbled as you leaned and kicked her into the thigh, all not seen or heard by your sister on the other line.
“No sweat, I’ll call you tomorrow. Night” she smiled as she hung up.
“Leah Catherine Williamson” you frowned as you placed your phone on the table, beside your now very cold dinner, sat untouched in the bowl.
“I couldn’t resist” she smirked, quickly kissing you and laying on the couch beside you. You both looked at the very unappealing freezing food laid out infront of you both. “I’ll order a pizza” she sighed, taking out her phone and you pressed play on the show. When she was finished ordering, she put her head on your lap and you roamed your fingers gently through her hair.
“Did you remember to” you began as she chuckled.
“Yeah” she nodded. “You don’t always need to remind me. I’m aware of you and your gluten free needs” she playfully rolled her eyes as you tugged her hair. Leah was protective of you in a sense that she’d never let anything happen to you on her watch. Which is why when the pizza came, she grilled the poor delivery driver for 5 minutes to make sure it was gluten free.
She got back to the couch, handing you your box, standing with her own and frowning at you until you opened it. You knew from the night in Sydney that she was protective by nature, but since you’d started dating properly, she was like your own personal bodyguard.
“Lee it’s okay” you smiled as she sat down beside you to look at your pizza.
“I like you and all, but I’m just not eating that for you” she laughed, ripping her own box open.
“I was thinking” you mumbled as you chewed on your slice of pizza.
“Oh, is your head sore?” She smirked, munching on her gluten filled pizza as you shot her a look. She loved joking and teasing you, but she knew that look, probably a little too well. “Oh, serious talk. Sorry, continue” she said as she threw her crust in the box.
“Would you maybe want to tell Kei? When we go to Barcelona?” You asked as her expression turned cold, trying to scan your face. When she got no signs that you were joking, her expression softened.
“Would you want to?” She replied, eyes now glued to the ground.
“Well, I’d love her to know how happy you make me. But, if you’re not ready it’s okay” you reassured her.
“No, I want to. I guess we kind of have to seeming as I eh, I kind of like you” she sighed, followed by a laugh.
“Maybe, if we tell her, when we get back, one of us could go for a never ending stay in the others apartment” you smirked.
“You mean like move in? You want to move in?” Leah shouted, a bit too enthusiastically, making you laugh.
“Would you want that?” You smiled as she nodded.
“More than I want to tell your sister” she laughed.
Due to her incapabilities sometimes to be an adult, you stayed in Leah’s the night before your flight, so you could get her packed.
It was all a coincidence, to Keira, that you had both ended up on the same plane and the seats next to each other. It was almost like you’d booked the flights together.
“Did you’s have enough time to argue over the bed and the couch on the flight?” Keira and Laura laughed from the front seats of Keira’s car.
“We said we’d wait til we got here to decide” Leah piped up quickly, before changing the topic entirely. The plan was to tell Keira over dinner and by the time you got back to the apartment, the topic of bed and couch would no longer need to be had.
You subtly slapped Leah’s hand away when she instinctively tried to grab your bag when you got out of the car.
“Here, I’ll take that” Laura smiled, grabbing your bag. “You’re alright there to carry your own, aren’t you superstar?” Laura teased as Leah laughed. You just thanked God that it was your sister’s girlfriend that grabbed your bag, otherwise Leah would have given them an earful.
“Bedroom is just in there if you both want to leave your stuff in there for the minute” Keira smiled at you both. “I booked dinner for 7pm, so I take it you’ll need the full three hours to get ready?” She smirked at you as you rolled your eyes at her playfully. “You want to go get coffee while she gets ready then?” Keira asked Leah. She looked at you briefly and knew by your face what she should answer.
“Yeah go on then, you coming too?” Leah asked Laura who nodded. “You want anything back?” Leah shouted at you, putting her shoes on.
“Yes please” you called, about to turn off into the room before Keira spoke again.
“Are you not going to ask her what she wants?” She laughed.
“Oh, eh” Leah stuttered. She of course knew what you wanted, and forgot you two were meant to be pretending you barely knew eachother right now.
“An iced vanilla latte” you smiled, heading off into the room. The three of them headed off, and you lay on the bed for a few minutes, scrolling on your phone, before getting up to shower and get ready.
You heard them coming through the door just as you’d just slipped into your clothes.
“Uh, are you decent?” Leah shouted from the door. You already know she had a stupid frown on her face from not being able to just walk straight in.
“Yeah, come in” you shouted back as she practically burst through the door and closed it just as quickly. She placed your coffee on the bedside table before looking over at you. “Fuck me, you look stunning” she mumbled, making her way over to you and kissing you gently.
“Thank you baby” you smiled. “You’re sure you’re still up for telling Kei?” You asked and she nodded.
“I’m sure” she replied. “Now piss off, I need to get ready” she chuckled, kissing you quickly and heading over to her suitcase. She stood frowning at the empty suitcase, as she rattled her brain back, trying to remember if she had definitely asked you to pack her case.
“I hung up your stuff already” you smiled, grabbing your coffee and saluting her playfully on the way out of the room.
“Could honestly marry you right now” she mumbled as you shut the door.
Laura and Keira were in Keira’s bedroom getting ready too, and Laura was the first to emerge. She knew you really didn’t like football that much, and she was good like that, to not make it the topic of conversation. She lived in Rome for most of the year for her job, so it was nice she had got time to come and see Keira.
Leah was next to come out, wearing a suit you knew she’d spent a good bit of money on.
“Oh, look at little Miss England” Laura teased.
“Do I look alright?” Leah asked, eyes stuck on you.
“Meh” you teased as you and Laura shared a laugh. But you noticed the frown on Leah’s face meant she wanted a serious answer. “I’m just joking, you look really nice Lee” you smiled, making her do the same. Laura looked between you both, and raised her eyebrows slightly at the look you two were giving each other. Keira was last out, immediately rushing everyone out of the apartment and downstairs to get in an Uber.
You scanned the menu of the fancy restaurant that Keira had booked. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you glanced through the three or four gluten free options the restaurant had. Leah noticed you looked a bit stressed and put her hand subtly on your thigh, immediately making you relax. The waiter came over and took everyone’s order, you weren’t too sure on the pronunciation of the dish you were ordering, so you just pointed at it on the menu as the waiter nodded. Laura ordered a bottle of wine for the table as the four of you laughed and chatted waiting for your food. You noticed Keira seemed really happy. She hadn’t been this happy in such a long time. You wanted her to know how happy you were too.
The waiter brought over the four dishes and Laura ordered another bottle for the table. He rushed off to get it as you all began tucking into your food. You knew the second you swallowed it that it was not in fact a gluten free dish, and either you read it wrong or this wasn’t what you ordered.
“Shit” you grumbled, standing up quickly.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” Leah said, so casually.
“Baby?” Keira asked with a frown, but neither of you heard her.
“I’m fine, just don’t follow me” you quickly rushed out as you sped off to the bathroom.
“Your wine” the waiter said, beginning to pour into Keira’s glass.
“Excuse me, my girlfriend ordered a gluten free dish, is this gluten free?” Leah snapped.
“Girlfri” was all Keira could manage before the waiter started to stutter.
“Is it gluten free?” Leah said again, a bit more aggressively and firmly.
“I’m not sure” he held his hands up. “One moment” he raced off to get someone and came back with a manager.
“Stupid fucking Spanish restaurant and stupid fucking gluten, I fucking hate gluten” Leah grumbled as Keira stared at her and Laura was gripping Keira’s hand so tightly to try and keep her calm.
“Was this what she ordered?” The manager asked Leah, pointing at a different dish on the menu as Leah shook her head and pointed at the correct one. “I’m very sorry, I will get this for her now” the manager apologised and ran off to the kitchen, as Leah sat back down. You’d also just returned from the bathroom now, looking a little flushed.
“You okay?” Leah asked, hand returning to your thigh.
“I’m okay” you smiled and nodded.
“Girlfriend” Keira shouted, so loudly, nearly everyone in the restaurant turned to look at your table. “What do you mean girlfriend?” She asked.
“Keira, calm down” Laura pleaded, but Keira brushed her off.
“How long have you two been together?” She snapped.
“Since Sydney” Leah mumbled.
“Sydney?” Keira shouted.
“Kei, can you keep it down?” You whispered.
“I want to go” Keira clicked her fingers at Laura who nodded and instantly stood up. Keira walked off towards the door before Laura, who was still stood at the table, fiddling with her wallet, had moved.
“I’ll sort it, just go” Leah huffed.
“She’ll come around. You two are good together” Laura smiled, before running off after Keira. The manager came back with your new dish, and was perplexed to see half your table was now missing, you were crying and Leah looked like she was going to punch something.
“Can I get you these to go?” She offered.
“And the bill” Leah nodded. She came back with boxes and the bill that Leah didn’t even hesitate to pay for. Leah had given you her jacket as she held onto a bag with everyone’s food and the bottle of wine in it, and had her phone in the other, ordering a taxi.
The drive to Keira’s apartment was dead silent, neither of you knew what to say to eachother, really. You felt Leah’s hand sneak over yours and that was the first time you’d looked at her since she asked if you were okay when you’d returned to the table.
“This doesn’t change anything for me” she whispered. You smiled at her weakly, because you felt the same. You were just so upset.
Laura eventually opened the door after persistent knocks from Leah. You went straight to the bedroom, like your sister had done, point blank refusing to come out, while Leah and Laura talked in the kitchen.
“She’s very upset” Laura mumbled as Leah nodded.
“Should we maybe go? I could take y/n to a hotel” Leah suggested.
“That’ll make it worse” Laura shook her head as it fell silent for a few seconds. “Are you two serious?” She asked.
“Look, it happened in Sydney, I don’t think either of us were looking for more than what happened. But, we got home and we were still talking and then we just started dating” Leah shrugged.
“So it’s not just a fling?” Laura added.
“We’re not just messing around, if that’s what you’re asking” Leah frowned. “She’s my girlfriend, I, I’m in love with her” Leah said.
“You’ve never said that before” you mumbled from the door of the bedroom. Your head was thumping and you needed a glass of water. You just weren’t expecting to walk into a confession.
“That I love you?” Leah asked and you nodded. “Well, I do. I love you” she smiled.
“I love you too” you kissed her briefly before instantly pulling apart and remembering quickly where you were.
“Wait there” Laura said, as she headed off into your sister’s bedroom. You could hear shouting, mostly coming from Keira from the room. How Laura ended up getting your sister out of the bedroom a few minutes later is still a mystery to you. “She’s not angry anymore” Laura chuckled.
“Yes I bloody am angry” Keira grunted.
“Kei, I’m so sorry” you pouted. “I’m not sorry about being with Leah, but I’m sorry we kept it from you”
“It’s not you I have the problem with” Keira frowned at Leah.
“It’s her fault” Leah protested playfully making Laura laugh.
“Leah, be serious” you moaned as she was the one to pout now.
“I’m sorry Kei, but I’m in love with her” Leah shrugged. “And I’m gonna keep being in love with her, even if you tell me not to”
“You’re actually being serious, aren’t you?” Keira asked, looking at the expression on Leah’s face as the blonde could only nod. “Jesus Christ, you fancy my sister? Are you stupid?” Keira laughed as every bit of anger left her body and Laura released a huge sigh of relief.
“Hey” you shouted defensively.
“Who else knows? Do mum and dad know?” Keira asked you.
“Only you two, Amy and Alex” Leah replied softly.
“God, my sister” Keira laughed at Leah who rolled her eyes at your sister. “Well, I’m sorry for ruining our first double date. We can try again at breakfast in the morning” Keira smiled.
“Come on then, let’s get you to bed” Laura hummed softly.
“At least we don’t have to fight over the couch and bed now” Leah smirked, pushing you towards the spare room.
“Don’t push it, Leah” Keira shouted.
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