#I think I will have to find out what to do next

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

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Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[poisonf0rest]

The Best Dreams Come in Threes

♱⋅── rafayel x reader x xavier

♱⋅── about: Rafayel and Xavier have always been there for you. One is your fire, your passion, the twin flame to your temper. The other is your light, a guiding beacon, your twin star. So when you have a nightmare, they take it upon themselves to comfort and remind you of their unconditional devotion. Even if it does lead to competition every now and then.

♱⋅── word count: 7.5k (mf...)

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, it's just nasty, threesome, jealousy, somnophilia, oral, pussydrunk boys, breeding kink, double penetration, slight spoilers

♱⋅── a/n: apologies to the two random strangers on the plane that I sat next to when the idea of this fic possessed me. I really, really hope you didn't read anything I was frantically writing down in the midst of me finishing my work report cause that shit was nasty.

art credit and inspiration due to the wonderful @/sakimenz

Lonely star, who do you shine for?

The weight of all your pasts- of all your futures- the guilt and pride you carry will only cause you to collapse, and all that will be left will be an all-consuming black hole. 

Your desperation won’t bring your sun back. 

Lonely king, don’t you know a kingdom devoid of life is a crown devoid of purpose?

You were the fire that left them, and all you have to show for the betrayal is a drowned memory and a heart wrenched from your chest, a broken promise and a forgotten story. 

You’ve changed with each lifetime, but you’ll forever be at the mercy of fate. 

And you? You’re the very curse that haunts them. 

Claws, so cold they burn, emerge from the darkness before piercing through flesh, tearing through muscle and bone as they dig into your ribcage, dragging you down into the shadows. Drowning, falling. You’re spiraling through lifetimes of failure, lifetimes of pain both your own and not, all while the claws dig closer and closer to your heart, clutching the muscle like a songbird in a cage. 

It’s the price, the price you must pay for all this pain you’ve caused, for dooming a star and killing a god. 

The clawed hand wraps around your heart, the piercing into the fluttering pulse faster and faster until—

You wake up crying. 

A hot trail of tears slides into the pillows, and a sniffle rakes through your body, the sudden movement causing a subtle disturbance to the two forms still sound asleep on either side of you. 

Funny, you can’t remember a thing, but there’s a painful throb in your chest. You’ll take another dose of your heart medicine in the morning. 

But for now, your bedroom is still dulled by the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains, and you’re in no hurry to get out of the warm covers and their embrace. 

The nightmares have become routine at this point. You never remember what they are, but you wake up with a sense of fear and dread, as though you can feel the pain all over again. It’s best not to think too much about it.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you inhale shakily one last time, trying to shake off the looming feeling when the arm around your waist shifts, tugging lightly at your loose sleep shirt before slipping under to massage the skin beneath. You let out a soft sigh, a light shudder going through your body as the gentle hands work away the tension.

“The same?” Rafayel’s words are slurred with sleep and concern, hot breath dancing along the crook of your neck as he props himself up on his elbow. You nod.

Rafayel makes a small, displeased noise before his other arm pulls you closer, his bare chest now flush against your back. The sudden movement forces Xavier, who was once tucked against your shoulder, further away, grumbling at the loss even in his sleep.

His face scrunches, brows furrowed together before the corners of his lips turn downward, and he blindly reaches for you. He eventually finds the curve of your waist, and his hand tightens on the fabric of your shirt as it slides in above Rafayel’s.

A huff, and Xavier buries his face back into your chest, his warm breath tickling you. And then, gentle snores— you should've known better than to think that would be enough to wake him.

Rafayel, still pressed firmly against your back, begins to move, propping his body up just enough to look you in the eyes as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. "Wanna talk about it, cutie?"

“I… I think you were there, both of you. But it felt lonely, painful.”

Rafayel's face contorts into a worried expression, his hand moves down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and you lean into his warm caress with a sigh.

You place a kiss on his palm. "It's okay, just a scary dream. Nothing real. Nothing to worry about." You repeat it, more to yourself than Rafayel, but his arms wrap around you anyway.

And yet Rafayel looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, a seriousness you’ve almost never seen on him.

You give him a questioning look, but his lips press to yours in a searing kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He pulls away only for a second, whispering sweet nothings against your skin before returning his lips to yours, the hand cradling your face slipping down to rest on your hip.

He kisses you softly, gently. First pressing a trail of light, chaste kisses along your jaw, the corners of your mouth, and nose, then moving back to your lips. “We’ll never leave you. We’d tear through every universe, every destiny to get back to you.”

Strange, how Rafayel says it with all the reverence of a vow. 

You want to tease him for the sudden declaration, for making all this fuss over a stupid dream, but you never have the opportunity, not when Rafayel's signature smirk settles back onto his lips. 

His hand slides down to your thighs, fingers teasing around the band of your sleep shorts, toying, pressing, but never crossing the self-imposed boundary of your clothes. “Unless, you’d prefer it if I proved it to you?”

“Rafayel,” you warn, hoping your narrowed glare would dissuade him.

Of course the man only seems to take that as a challenge, smile widening as you flinch at the cold touch creeping under your shirt. One palm traces up your ribcage, long, nimble fingers rubbing circles against your skin until he brushes the underside of your breast. 

You shudder, hissing out another string of curses before turning around so your back is to Rafayel. 

Really, you should know better than to think that alone would be enough, and a hot trail of kisses now joins his wandering hands down your shoulder blade. They start innocent enough, sweet, lingering touches along the hem of your shirt, but that quickly changes when Rafayel’s arm under your shirt practically yanks it up, sucking wet, messy kisses into the bare curves of your chest.

Each nip against your sensitive flesh forces the possibility of sleep further and further away, and you resort to distracting yourself with the motionless silhouette of Xavier. Petting through his hair, your rhythm is jolted every time Rafayel decides to leave a mark, nails pulling through Xavier’s locks as you bite your lip on a moan.

You don't miss the curve of his smirk against your skin, and the next kiss is accompanied by a bite, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp that stirs Xavier. Tense, you scan the blonde's face, but he's nothing if not a heavy sleeper, and he nuzzles further into your touch, still unconscious as his head tucks under yours.

You don't get to sigh in relief. Instead, a whine builds in your throat, the wet heat of Rafayel's teeth tugging on the strap of your underwear as he fists your sleep shorts down.

"Rafayel, stop it,” you hiss as his hot breath hits the already embarrassingly damp center of your underwear.

His smile grows, lips brushing against your clothed core as he tilts his head. “Hmm? But you don’t sound like you want me to stop. And she certainly doesn’t sound like it either.” Two fingers dip under the band, and he parts your cunt with a lewd click.

Your face flushes in embarrassment, refusing to acknowledge just how easily your body gives in to them. One hand leaves Xavier, roughly fisting into Rafayel’s curls as he groans from the sharp pressure. “That’s because you and Xavier refused to wear protection!” 

The accusation earns a hushed laugh, his shoulders shaking against the insides of your thighs. It would have been innocent, the same contagious sort of smile gracing Rafayel’s face, if not the shadows cast across his face in the dark, teeth gleaming like fangs as he traces his tongue up the entire length of your clothed cunt. 

"M’sorry, we thought you'd enjoy the mess," he says, words muffled over your thighs, nose practically buried in between. "How can I make it up to you, cutie?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not when Rafayel’s tongue dives into your clothed cunt, moaning against the soaked fabric as you gasp and force him closer by his hair. To muffle his sounds, you tell yourself. A pathetic lie considering how much louder he gets now, nose grinding up against your clit as his tongue tries to press into your fluttering cunt even with the barrier of cloth in between. 

God, he’s addicted, and it doesn’t take long until Rafayel’s spit and your slick soak through your underwear, the near-translucent fabric sticking to your lips as the bare minimum friction nearly drives you insane. 

“Say it,” Rafayel whines, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Please, just tell me how badly you want me. Tell me, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Like he wouldn’t already.

But how could you ever deny him when he begs so sweetly? 

Your palm cups his face, watching his near-wrecked expression and flushed skin tremble beneath your fingers.  “I’m yours, Rafayel.”

And the fabric is ripped into pieces. 

Refusing to even breathe, Rafayel places an opened-mouth kiss on your cunt, lapping up your slick with the most satisfied moan. He doesn't waste any time, not while your confession coated his mind with the sweetest type of intoxication, eating you out like he was depraved.

He might as well have been with how he moans, hips grinding desperately against the edge of the mattress, his not-entirely human tongue curling in and out of you as it writhes with terrifying accuracy against your walls.

It feels too good to be ashamed of the noises you make, gasping and crying out until you slam your palm over your mouth, biting down hard as the other claws into Rafayel’s hair. You can barely control yourself, half fighting to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, half rocking your hips up and down his face as you jerk him closer. 

“Mhm, greedy.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat before his words are muffled into your cunt, not baring to part for even a breath. “Pull on it, please. Harder.” 

You tug Rafayel’s hair almost in vengeance when he purposefully kisses away from where you need him most, licking and sucking obscenely into your thighs just to hear your frustrated cries even over your hand. 

He loved being used like this, so long as it was you. 

So long as it was him that turned you into such a beautiful, pathetic mess. 

It's not long until Rafayel pulls you close to the edge, nose pressing against your clit while thrusting his tongue into you, eyes rolling back from the taste and from the thought of your tight heat fluttering around his cock instead. 

And then, he stops, pulling away and leaving you gasping into the tear-stained pillow.

You bite back a sob, releasing only a choked little noise that has Rafayel's eyes flicking up to your face, the soft, concerned look in his eyes melting into something far more dangerous.

With viciously dilated pupils and your slick dripping from his mouth, Rafayel stares you down as every inch the dangerous siren the legends claimed him to be. He smiles, tongue raking over his teeth as though he couldn’t get enough of your taste, and you swear you’d let him eat your heart and soul. Gods, you’d let him eat you whole. 

You realize you must have made a sound, because Rafayel hushes you, pressing quick kisses to your knee. "Aw, what happened to being quiet? Aren't you afraid we'll wake the poor sleeping bunny?" 

At the mention of your other partner, you turn to where Xavier’s nuzzling his face further into your side, each warm breath damp against your feverish skin, still lost to the realm of dreams.

Not that Rafayel allows your attention to turn away from himself for too long. 

He leans over Xavier, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight cupping your face, and his lips are crashing into yours with all the viciousness of a summer seastorm. Your lips part, and Rafeyel fucks his tongue into your mouth the same he did your pussy, wet and desperate, the taste of yourself enough to make you dizzy. 

"Tell me,” Rafayel’s tone dips into something darker, kissing down your throat and stomach as he eyes Xavier. “Who’s the better lover?" 

Xavier's fingers flex, the tips brushing against the curve of your breast as he sleeps, and Rafayel's smile is almost predatory.

"D-don't ask stupid questions you dumb fish," your voice cracks as Rafayel's mouth ghosts over your cunt, teeth bared to your thigh, threatening to bite. "I chose you both."

The confession, as expected, doesn't please him. If anything, he seems overly offended, pouting and huffing a cold breath of air right against your aching core. The chill makes you squirm, trying to force him back to your center with the grip you have on his hair.

"No. Nope. That's not an answer."

"Raf–"

His name breaks off in a moan, sound ripped from your throat as Rafayel's thumb starts rubbing firm circles around your neglected clit. He doesn't relent, the pressure too much, too quick, your body already trembling from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to torture you with.

Only, it seems that all your sudden noise and movement have finally begun to affect Xavier. Not enough to wake him, but enough that you can hear his breathing become heavier, following your every twitch and buck from Rafayel’s onslaught as his body begins to grind into yours.

Mumbling into your neck, Xavier’s hand tightens around your waist before slipping under your shirt to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading until the touch has you keening.

Xavier's still fast asleep, nonsensical words slurred against your skin, and yet his body is now far from it. His erection is thick and heavy against your hips, grinding desperately into your warmth almost in time to Rafayel’s ministrations, whimpering under his breath with every forceful thrust. 

Rafayel notices too, his gaze drifting up to the blond. You can't see his face, already busied between your legs once more, but a pleased hum vibrates through his entire body, fingers finally slipping into your cunt as he curls them just right, your back arching off the sheets with a silent scream. 

Xavier whines at your sudden thrashing, tugging you closer and unknowingly forcing you immobile and at complete mercy to Rafayel’s unfairly skilled fingers. "Mhm, so warm. Please, m’want to..." Another needy, slow grind against you follows his sleepy request. 

"Rafayel," you choke out a muffled plea, but his eyes only narrow, taking a breath as his free hand grabs at Xavier's ass, the touch just light enough to tease and make him rut harder against you.

"What is it, cutie? Don't pretend like you don't want more, not when your pretty pussy's drooling for his cock. She’s so needy, am I not enough?”

Rafayel rests his head on the inside of your thigh, fingers thrusting roughly into that sweet spongy spot inside you just as his other hand wraps around the base of Xavier's cock through his boxers, thumbing over the pre-cum staining the dark fabric. 

You're forced to bite down on the pillow beneath your head to stop the desperate cry tearing itself out of your throat. "This isn’t- ah- isn’t right."

"Isn't it? You’re dripping and the little bunny’s still asleep, yet look how desperate he is, rutting against you." Rafayel's voice dips, a raspy edge from his throat still fucking into you making it even more sinful, slurping everything you give him around his fingers before it drips down his wrist and into a puddle below. A huff, “I should get rewarded with how much effort I’m putting in.”

You cry out, legs trembling as his thumb begins its relentless attack on your clit, tracing mindless circles just random enough to keep you on edge. You're close, and Rafayel can feel it.

Xavier isn’t faring much better, whimpering a string of incoherent pleas into the crook of your neck as his hips keep rocking into the fist around him. He doesn't take his mouth away from the skin of your shoulder, biting down on it as he cums, shuddering and whimpering as the mess splatters down Rafayel's knuckles and onto your thighs. 

“You’re next. If you won’t be honest with me, I’ll make your body is.” Rafayel’s taunt is the last coherent thing you remember before you come. Hard. His words ring against your skull as his fingers pump into you faster, and the pressure against your clit becomes almost unbearable, and you're falling apart, crying and thrashing, the only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of Rafayel's weight and the scent of Xavier's strawberry shampoo, and then—

Rafayel finally shuts up to let you ride his face through your high, letting you use him as your thighs lock around his head, grinding desperately as though he were no more than a toy. No chance of breathing, no chance of escape. 

Not that he could care less, not as long as he could keep his lips around your gushing cunt, humming and sucking into your release as cum sprays over his tongue and down his chin. Gods, he could never get enough of this.

You're still shaking through your orgasm, pliant and stupid from the dizzying pleasure, that you don't notice the rustle of sheets until a second pair of hands slide down your thighs. 

"You’re doing this without me?" 

Xavier’s voice is a whisper, husky from sleep and his orgasm as he presses a kiss right below your ear, fingers squeezing rougher against your breasts.

"S-sorry. Didn't want to wake you," you try, biting back a gasp when his thumb flicks over a nipple. Rough. Mean. 

Rafayel snorts. "I think it's a bit too late for that.” A glare at Xavier over your leg, showing off your cum still dripping from his lips and fingers. ”Besides, I didn't need you."

You want to argue, really, but then Xavier is grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging just hard enough to push your head back, coaxing a moan from your throat as he marks down your neck with kisses intending to bruise. He’s pouting, grabbing your jaw as he forces your gaze away from Rafayel, nipping your bottom lip until you surrender to his drowsy advances.

“Why…” Another kiss before Xavier's licking desperately into your mouth, “Why didn't you wake me?"

The question comes out a little breathless, almost petulant, eyes hooded and dark as he looks over the mess Rafayel has made of you. He can't tear his eyes away, watching Rafayel even as he kisses you. His fingers flick over your nipple again, twisting and pinching until you're shaking, your thighs squeezing Rafayel's face, all while Xavier watches.

Said man only smiles, all smug arrogance. "Didn't you hear her, Xav? She said she didn't want to wake you, so don't blame me."

Rafayel drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss over your cunt, the overstimulation making you break the kiss with a gasp.

"Liar." Xavier's voice trembles, and you can't tell if he's referring to Rafayel's words, or the way he's staring longingly at Rafayel's lips now, still slick with your release. "You just wanted her all to yourself."

He doesn't bother giving Rafayel a chance to retort, taking the punishment out on you as he dips his head underneath your folded-up shirt, groaning as his hot tongue rolls over your nipple, sucking at the stiff peak as his hand continues to assault the other. The onslaught has you whimpering, pushing and clawing against Xavier’s shoulder to try and fight him off as he refuses to let go for even a moment. 

Rafayel's not one to be ignored, not when he has the advantage, and his tongue is back to fucking into your cunt with no reprieve, a cruel smirk on his face as you writhe and beg for their mercy.

Your hips roll, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity, unable to escape either of the men. It's overwhelming. Too much, too quickly, you only just came and you're already getting dragged back.

"Ah! Stop, I'm already mhm—"

You're interrupted by Xavier's tongue slipping into your mouth, a filthy, lazy slide that makes you grind up into Rafayel's tongue. It's like he doesn't even need to breathe, the wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out drowned out only by the sound of Xavier kissing you senseless, pausing just to nip and suck at your breasts as though he'll get rewarded if he just tries hard enough. 

"You want him to stop? Is the mermaid not enough to satisfy you, princess?" Xavier taunts, lips brushing against your ear as his hips push up, grinding his cock against your thigh. "If that's the case, perhaps we should switch. I can give you exactly what you want, remember?"

“Shut up, I’m the one making her cum.”

“Only cause I wasn’t awake yet.”

“You snooze, you lose. Whose fault is that? Oh ya, yours.” 

They're at each other's throats yet again, practically clawing and snapping at each other, and you're helpless to try and intervene when they take their faux anger out on your poor abused body. 

You can't think, can't focus, can't do anything but shake and pant and sob into the pillow, their combined weight on top of you, forcing your pleasure higher and higher. 

“Xav—" He cuts you off with a kiss. 

“Shh, just take it."

You can't even tell who’s sloppier anymore- Xavier fucking your mouth with his tongue or Rafayel still eating you through your second orgasm, the sudden hit of it thundering down your body. 

“You look so pretty when you come," Xavier moans into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, hand coming up to stroke your cheek as he watches you, a sharp contrast to the other still rolling against your swollen nipple, loving the way you jerk into his touch. Then a glare to the man below. "My turn.”

Your body is still trembling, Rafayel's merciless fingers not allowing you to come down from your high, aftershocks of hypersensitivity crashing down your spine as every muscle spasms. No more. No more, please. You can’t possibly come again. 

You don't realize you’re begging out loud, not until Xavier shushes you with another bruising kiss. 

But it doesn't seem like Rafayel has any plans on stopping, not until Xavier’s hand skims down your thighs and yanks him up by the chain of his necklace. 

Rafayel growls as he's practically forced off your weeping cunt, eyes bleary and unfocused as he fights the blond's grip. And god, he looks absolutely wrecked, spit and cum dripping from his mouth and chin, connecting his lips to your pussy in sticky wet strands before they break, and you feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against his soaked boxers. 

Xavier yanks him forward, pulling the necklace chain until he crashes his lips onto Rafayel's, all teeth and tongue, desperate to get a taste of your cum from his mouth. It's filthy, and Rafayel is the first to give in, still drunk off your taste and now Xavier's too.

"Mhm, you taste like her," Xavier whispers, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his mouth still moving against Rafayel's swollen, parted lips.

"Ya?" Rafayel’s grin is predatory, all fang and sin. "You wanna try too, don’t you? Give in then, bunny, lie down for us.”

"I don't take orders from you." 

Xavier scowls against Rafayel's lips, but you can feel his resolve breaking, his arm trembling where it rests against your thigh. 

"No, you take them from her, and she asked us so, so nicely to make her come. You wouldn't dare deny her that, would you?”

The Lemurian is nothing if not dangerously persistent, one hand coaxing Xavier backward so gently you don’t think he realizes how easily he’s falling, the other clawing down his abs as Rafayel bites against the erratic thud of Xavier’s pulse. Sharp and bruising, a silent promise for what to come. "Or do you wanna eat her out like I did? Have her ride your face while I fuck into her poor, desperate cunt? I can't decide, there are so many options."

“No.” It’s more a plea than a demand. Xavier's voice shakes with need, and you watch, dizzy and panting, as Rafayel's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Xavier's boxers. His fingers, still dripping with your cum, brush down the length of his cock, thumb circling the sensitive head and smearing the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from it. “You had y-your turn.” 

He can hardly finish his objection, not when Rafayel’s thumb comes up to abuse his leaking slit, Xavier’s words slurring into a desperate whine as he practically collapses back onto his elbows. Immediately, Rafayel is atop him.

"A competition, then." Rafayel leans down to whisper into Xavier's ear, but the words are purposefully teased out loud enough for you to hear, “But you lose if you cum first, and I get to fuck her.”

It's a low blow, a challenge he knows Xavier can't turn down. 

A challenge that somehow has you poised once again as the torment and the reward.

And it's true, because the second the words register, the blond's eyes shoot open, and his cock jerks violently against Rafeyel’s palm, a broken sound leaving his lips as his eyes lock back onto yours with all the promise of a starving hunter.

"Deal.”

Xavier doesn't allow the agreement to go without a price. Something snaps, the bedroom flickering with a sudden darkness as all the light vanishes. 

One moment, you’re lying against the bed, and the next Xavier manhandles you to your knees, one hand forcing your arms behind your back as he tugs you against him, the other pinning Rafayel to the mattress.

Rafayel’s the very picture of smug sin, the feral expression far more genuine, less threatening and much more amused as he nestles further into the pillows, one arm tucked lazily behind his head. 

Cold fingers dance up your hips, and Rafayel drags your bare cunt over his thighs and onto his lap, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as you're pinned deliciously between his cock and Xavier's sculpted back.

"So needy, little bunny."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who's leaking."

Rafayel snorts, and before the two can start fighting again, you're leaning forward, a hand resting against Rafayel's abs as you cup his erection through his boxers. And when he moans you believe every myth, every fairytale singing the doom of sailors to a siren song, because every sound he gives you is addictive and sweet enough that you’d drown to hear it again. 

Pulling Rafayel's cock out from his boxers, you’re stunned yet again by the slightly non-human beauty of it, heavy and thick in your palm, the flushed, ruddy tip already drooling precum as you thumb at it in vengeance. You know Xavier's watching from the way his own cock twitches against your back, hands digging bruises into your hips. Then, the warmth at your back disappears. 

Instead, a pair of hands drag your ass up, forcing you into a deep arch as you scramble for purchase against Rafayel’s thigh and the bed below.

“Closer.” Xavier’s hand laces into your hair as he pushes your head down, forcing your mouth to nuzzle against the base of Rafayel's cock. 

The movement pulls a gasp from both of you, your hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Rafayel's shaft and forcing a shudder from his entire body. 

Seeing the two of you completely at his mercy does terrible, horrible things to Xavier, and his fingers dig bruises into your hips as it takes him everything not to forgo the competition and fuck you right there. 

"Good girl,” he hums, voice trembling as his grip tightens against your hair, giving you a harsh glare when you whine and squirm in his hold. "Now open."

You can't bring yourself to say no, not when the sight of Rafayel's eyes rolling back the second you do makes your stomach clench. His cock twitches against you as you lick at the copious amounts of cum leaking from his tip, then obediently wrap your lips around him.

With a smile that would have you shaking, Xavier leans down, barely able to continue guiding your head as he’s entranced with the mess between your legs, licking up the slick dripping down your thighs as he sucks against the delicate flesh, marking right over the sensitive bruises Rafayel had only just left behind. 

 “This- hah-” Rafayel curses under his breath, the single word breaking off into a moan, the sound muffled by his palm as his chest heaves. “This is hardly fair.”

But his complaints feel half-hearted, not with the way he’s already rutting into your mouth, Xavier’s iron grip keeping you in place as Rafayel thrusts himself into your mouth in one breath. You yield pathetically quick, flattening your tongue against the slick underside of his cock, another stream of pre-cum flooding your mouth as you nearly choke on it all, unable to pull off to even take a breath as Xavier guides your head up and down in a steady rhythm that has Rafayel falling apart. 

It’s cruel, but you can't help each pathetic moan that gets muffed onto Rafayel’s cock, the vibrations forcing his back to arch off the bed, head rolling back as it thuds against the pillows, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps in shallow breaths.

You almost wish he would let you see his eyes, but then you'd miss the view of his chest, every muscle tight and twitching under his skin, the mesmerizing sight now blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You can't resist reaching up, dragging your nails down his abs, watching his body jerk against every new line of red.

"Please,” you're not sure if the broken whimper belonged to Rafayel or yourself. “Please, I can't wait anymore, wanna feel you— fuck— wanna fill you up again, please let me cum." It's like just the very thought has Rafayel keening, his hips jerking up into your hot mouth with reckless abandon as Xavier forces your spine up into a deeper arch.

You're nearly bent in half, the new angle leaving no part of you hidden from Xavier's hungry gaze as he watches you practically drool over Rafayel’s cock, lips meeting his pelvis as he breaches your throat. 

Xavier’s going to win. He needs to win. 

The thought makes him frantic, tongue fucking past the tight resistance of your cunt, his hand sliding up to tease at your clit. He won't be the one to finish first, not this time. Not when he's wanted nothing more than to feel your cunt gushing around him ever since Rafayel woke him up, ever since the two of you had the audacity to start this without him.

Rafayel can’t last much longer, especially not when you bring one shaking hand down to massage his swollen balls, hardly in control of your own movements as you feel dizzy on the addictive combination from the lack of oxygen and pleasure as Xavier begins to eat you out like a man starved. 

The room’s filled with the sounds of each slick, messy movement, whimpers from the man beneath you and breathless pleas from the one behind, bed rattling with every thrust. 

And yet you’re still so painfully empty. So, so, empty as your cunt flutters around Xavier’s tongue before he relents to kiss your clit once more, dragging a dissatisfied whine from you as you fight yourself off Rafayel’s cock. 

"F-fuck me. Please," A sob, and you feel both Rafayel and Xavier shudder. "It’s not enough. Want your cocks inside me, wanna cum on it. Need it, please-"

Oh, and when you beg like that, they should have known they never would have stood a chance.

"Shit."

"Ah, please-"

It's a blur. A rush of hands, of pleasure and pain, all of it colliding and dragging you to the edge. The room spins, the ceiling above you falling until the familiar, comforting feeling of slick muscle embraces you, grounding you as you focus on the erratic heartbeat between each ragged exhale. 

You're still sandwiched between them, lying on Rafayel as Xavier's weight drapes across your back, head propped up on the former's chest as you stare blearily at his silver pendant, unable to move. You're not even sure if you can, not with the way Xavier's still gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you open as he forces one leg higher up.

Then, the blunt head of his cock grinds between your folds.

Xavier’s pressing his forehead against your back, wrapping his arms around you before biting into the crook of your neck. "You mean it? You’ll let us come inside again?"

Rafayel laughs, a raspy sound still raw from his orgasm. "Well, we both lost. Now what, bunny? We can't just leave her like this, poor thing is trembling." 

"Mhm,” Xavier forces you up, “We both fuck her then."

His words only make you whimper, body jerking uselessly against Xavier's grip. His hands lift you as Rafayel flips you around so you're now facing the blond, flinching violently as his cock brushes your swollen clit, any semblance of protest quelled as Xavier pulls you into another messy kiss. 

It’s demanding, Xavier mumbling achingly sweet praises into your open mouth as he begins to press you down, faster, harsher, forcing you onto Rafayel’s lap in a reverse cowgirl as you slide down slowly, taking inch by inch of Rafayel’s throbbing cock. There’s hardly any blue left in Xavier’s blow-out pupils, too mesmerized by the slick mess you’re gushing down their thighs. And just when you begin to squirm, impatient and desperate, Xavier slows their pace even more.

"Shhh, we need to make sure you'll be able to take both of us."

Rafayel's hand is wrapped around your waist, thumb rubbing small circles into your stomach, and if it weren't for Xavier's arms locked around you, holding you upright, you would have collapsed the second Rafayel pressed into the spot his fingers had found.

"Look at you," he purrs, a low sound that has you gasping. "So pretty when you’re needy. Can you feel me?"

It's hard not to. Everywhere feels warm, and every slow thrust, no matter how gentle, has a small burst of ecstasy building in your stomach, a wave crashing higher and higher as the two of them slowly fuck you full. Just as you’re nearly seated all the way onto Rafayel’s length, Xavier’s palms come up to the back of your knees, folding them up and forcing you backward until you’re practically lying prone atop of Rafayel.

Your head lolls uselessly against Rafayel's neck, gasping at the force of the new position,  and you're not sure if it's the tears in your eyes or the overwhelming pressure against your walls as they stretch around his cock that's making the world so blurry. Xavier soon follows you down, pressing you closer into Rafayel’s chest as his lips trail your jaw, your neck, your sucking against every sensitive spot behind your ears until you're distracted from the pain.

"You're doing so good, princess. Just a little more."

The sudden onslaught of pressure of both of you atop him has Rafayel flinching, and he hisses out a pained moan, hips jerking up into the slick heat of your pussy, and it's only Xavier's grip that keeps the two of you from slipping off.

"Hah- hurry up-" Rafayel's eyes are glassy, his head tipped back and face twisted in pleasure. 

Strings of incoherent pleas are whispered against your ear, Rafayel marking up the left side of your neck while Xavier’s still busy with the right, that is, until Xavier switches sides, biting right over Rafayel’s marks until he’s pulled up into a desperate kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips are filthy and obscene, each hot breath and moan brushing past your ear as you writhe, pressed between them. Rafayel's cock is already swelling, twitching against the fluttering walls of your pussy, unwilling to fully pull out, settling to just grinding up in slow, cruel thrusts before something in him snaps and he switches to pounding against your abused walls.

Every time you think you’ll finally come Rafayel switches pace, the obscene slap of skin on skin muffled only by your sobs and their kissing. 

You’re close, so so fucking close you feel your muscles begin to shake. Xavier only pushes you down further, every angle a new cruelty, smothering you between them, rendering you unable to do anything but take it.

Again, Rafayel slows, and you slur curses down at him as your thighs tremble from overstimulation, shaking violently until you feel something grab your calf. Xavier massages the quivering muscle, gentle until he’s suddenly pressing your knee higher and higher, going until it’s pinned to the mattress up against your head.

And now Rafayel is hitting impossibly deeper, abusing your poor g-spot with each thrust. 

Xavier kisses your ankle, then calf, making his way up your leg until he can nip at your inner thighs now folded over his shoulder. And then you feel the pressure of his cock at your already full entrance. Xavier’s hand dips down between your bodies, trying to bully himself in alongside Rafayel, but his cock slides past your navel, slick and covered in your combined cum. 

"No, no no, not gonna fit- ah- Xavier!"

Your words break off into a wail as he tries again, grinding closer so you’re tightly cradled between the two, Xavier leaning fully atop you both. A snarl grits through his jaw when his cock slips past again, readjusting you so your legs fall apart wider, the burn in your thighs turning delicious and overwhelming, pussy weeping around Rafayel’s cock as Xavier’s swollen, leaking head bumps against your clit. 

Xavier watches the mess, every thrust and messy squirt of cum, brows furrowed and flushed a deep red, as he whines into your shoulder, "Please- can't stop- please let me fuck you too, you'll look so pretty with both of us filling you up, taking us so good- don’t make me stop."

He’s reduced to babbling against your neck, biting down hard enough to bleed when your cunt finally yields to him too, cockhead bumping into Rafayel’s as he slowly pushes in inch and inch, trembling from the combined pleasure of your walls and the violent throbbing of every vein now grinding together.

It's too much, it’s not enough, the stretch and the friction and the pressure leaving you fucked stupid, hands scrambling for purchase. Rafayel grunts when your nails drag across his thighs, his own hands coming to latch onto your wrists, pinning them above his head, forcing you motionless between them.

You can do nothing but sob, tears streaming down your face as your entire body convulses. And when they finally, finally bottom out together, the world goes white.

"Shh, you're alright," Rafayel soothes, although his voice is trembling, the sound broken as he tries to catch his breath. "Doing so well for us, cutie, so perfect."

Xavier growls, his hands grabbing the headboard. He's barely holding on, not with the way Rafayel's cock twitches against his own, your hot walls clenched tightly around the two of them as you beg.

"Please, can't- too much, more, I need-"

There's a broken sob, and then Xavier’s slamming his hips forward, fucking into you with a brutality he usually saves for Rafayel, the force sending the three of you rocking against the mattress, headboard splintering under the strength of his grip. The other leaves to thumb at your nipples, lips following suit as he rambles, drunk off your pussy, "These would look s'pretty filled, even more sensitive. Bet you'd let us milk you, fill you up even more."

"And here, you'll feel us here too, won't you?" A hand moves lower- whose you no longer are coherent enough to care- brushing over the swell of your abdomen, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing where both of them are thrusting violently into you. "Be a waste not to. Imagine it, a painted mess filled with us.”

And you are. You can't think about anything else, not with the way they're stuffing you full— every time Rafayel's cock would settle near your g-spot Xavier’s would ram back in, forcing the former up against your cervix before pulling out entirely, repeating the vicious rhythm as the pain bled into pleasure. 

Tears stream down the side of your face, room spinning into dizziness until all that remains are the burning trails of their touch, the only things keeping you grounded. 

Rafayel's sucking into your shoulder, biting the sweat-slicked flesh, and you can feel his hips begin to stutter underneath you, already reaching his high despite Xavier still pounding into you with the same intensity, desperate to catch up.

The moment Xavier feels Rafayel's release, it's over. Your back arches up against him, convulsing against their hold, your abused walls clenching down so tightly that you’re practically begging for them to come inside, sucking them in deeper and deeper until it’s impossible for them not to follow.

It's a violent orgasm, hot squirt of your cum drenching Xavier’s abs, the intensity of it causing Rafayel’s vision to white out too, unable to hear the desperate sounds of your moans, not when his blood is rushing past his ears.

Then, the world comes crashing back.

Rafayel’s panting, still thrusting weakly into the slick, tight heat as he emptied himself inside you, the sheer overload of it gushing down your legs and onto the sheets. 

"Ah- Xavier," you whine, the sound muffled into his chest as Xavier continues to chase after his high, too lost in his late orgasm to pull out.

The overstimulation is torture, your body twitching and trembling with every sloppy thrust. The moment he finally pulls out, the mess follows, thick, white rivets leaking down your thighs, the sheer volume near damn concerning had you the capacity to focus on it.

Rafayel laughs, fingers swirling through the cum as though painting your thighs, "That's not going to be easy to clean up."

"S'gonna look pretty. Messy. Full." Xavier murmurs, still pinning the both of you beneath him as he collapses in exhaustion, fingers dancing over the small swell in your stomach. Pressing lightly, he watches in fascination as their mixed cum gushes out faster, and you whimper, gripping his wrists to stop before they get any more ideas. 

You're not sure what's worse, the fact that they're both still hard and the way they're looking at you, or the fact that their words have your exhausted body already trying to recover, a shiver running through your sore muscles as the room's cool air brushes over the slick, sticky mess between your thighs.

"You're both so disgusting," you groan, the words coming out slurred and barely audible. 

"You love it."

"Yeah," Xavier's agreement is soft and almost hesitant. "You love us."

"Yes, I love both of you. Now get the fuck off of me." A shove, your shaking arm barely affecting Xavier as he finally relents, a small smile on his lips as he rolls the three of you down into the bed, resting on your sides. 

The muscles in your thighs scream in relief as they’re finally placed down, every inch of your body sore and marked up in one way or another, every visible bruise and bite getting pampered in faux apologies by the two men snuggling up next to you.

It’s a tangle of limbs, Xavier already claiming your chest again as he nuzzles into your breasts while Rafayel simply curls himself around your back. A hand there, an arm there, and a little more muffled bickering. Yet you all fit together, and sleep comes easy now. 

And the nightmares never return. 

[ckret2]

I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!

🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.

🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.

🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.

🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.

🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.

🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.

🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.

🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it

🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)

🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.

🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!

(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)

🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!

🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.

(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)

🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.

🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.

And she only wants what's best for her golden child.

🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.

🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!

🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.

🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.

But back to Scalene!

🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.

🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.

🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.

🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."

There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!

(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)

[writersdrug]

Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”

[luveline]

What about sharing a bed with roommate James Potter after a nightmare? The comfort and yearning would be everything

He can hear your harsh breathing before he sees you. You raise your hand to knock his door and realise it’s open, but James is already up and walking toward you. 

“James–”

“What? What’s wrong?” He ducks his head a touch to meet your gaze. “Woah, seriously.” 

“I had a dream that somebody was in my room.” 

He cringes. You’ve grown to be more than roommates, and even if he didn’t consider himself your friend he wouldn’t like to see you panicking. “There’s nobody in there,” he promises, giving you half a hug. He looks over your shoulder just in case, and then steps back. “You want me to check?” 

“No… I don’t know, I don’t think there’s someone in there, just–” You choke on half a breath. “Sorry, it freaked me out.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says softly. It’s harder at night to be bubbly. Harder to conceal bone deep, gentle affection for you. “Come on, you can sleep with me tonight.” 

He encourages you with an arm deeper into the room, shoving his book aside to make room for you where he’d been laying. He shuffles across the bed. “You can turn off the lamp if you want, I don’t mind.” 

You climb into bed next to him. You don’t turn off the light. He’s surprised when you lay down in the pillow where his head was moments ago and turn away from the door, but he hides it and follows your lead. 

You’re almost nose to nose. 

“I can go check, if you want me to. It doesn’t bother me,” he says quietly. 

“I know it was just a dream.” 

“But it rattled you,” he says, looking up and down your face slowly, carefully. 

James will confess to himself that he finds you beautiful, will feel no shame as his gaze trips lazily over your lips, your nose, and your tired eyes. He doesn’t even feel bad when he gives in to temptation and holds your arm, though that’s less to do with liking you and more to do with the way you relax at his touch. 

“Can’t remember the last time I had such a bad dream,” you murmur. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, alright? I’m here, n’ I’m not about to let somebody come near you.” 

“I woke up and I didn’t even look to see if it was true. I wigged.”

“You wigged,” he repeats, smiling gently. 

“Completely.” 

“Well, you’re allowed to wig every once in a while.” He snorts at your word choice. “But it’s alright. I can put the telly on, if you want?” 

You shake your head, pushing across the bed to be closer to him. You tilt your face down, murmuring, “You can put it on. I won’t watch much of it.” 

“I don’t have to put it on,” he murmurs back, voice turned to loving silk, “I just want you to feel safe.” 

“I feel safe.” 

James is glad for your closed eyes. He smiles like a fool, how awesome to get to be that safety for you. “Okay,” he says, pulling the blankets up to both your chins, his hand dropping lazily over your shoulder, “I have you.” 

[enhasparadise]

LOVE PARADISE. ˒˒ ﹙ enhypen ! ﹚

╰┈⪼ in which you suddenly ask your boyfriend if he loves you to see his reaction

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ enha member x girlfriend!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ scenerios/headcannons, soft, fluff

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ enhypen member being a wimp for their girl, really cute reaction from the member, use of petnames (sweetheart, kitten, sweetie, darling..), jay doing a proposal to the reader (that’s not a real proposal), niki teasing the reader (kinda funny to write actually), really dramatic Jake, kisses and cuddles.

wc ‎⸝⸝⸝ 3788 words

rain’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ im in love with the idea of this scenario and I hope that you loved reading all of them ! (jay, Jake and niki being my favorite 🤭) hope to see you for my next post, currently working on "TOKYO ON EDGE" first chapter !!

all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

𓏲 𖧷ˊ HEESEUNG

heeseung had just come back from a long day of training and the only thing he wanted was to be in your arms so he could reunite with his girlfriend.

he simply almost froze when he didn't see that you weren't sitting on the sofa like he was used to finding you like at the end of all his days. this simple change in his habits starting to worry him before he heard a noise coming from the kitchen, and a smile appeared on his lips even though he had seen you cooking.

quickly his arms were around your waist as he placed a soft kiss on your cheeks, but before he even said a single word you had cut him off.

“hee, do you love me?” you asked him and he stood looking at you for a few seconds without understanding why you had just asked that question.

he thought that showing you his love every day was enough to prove the love he had for you, but upon hearing your question he quickly understood that maybe that wasn't the case.

“wait are you seriously asking the question sweetheart?” he ended up saying almost as if he had just found his voice and his arms quickly disappeared from around your waist before Heeseung ended up completely disappearing from the kitchen, leaving you alone wondering what he could do.

but he returned a few minutes later with his phone in one hand, and his bag in the other, which he placed on the kitchen table. “Look at me quickly, sweetheart, please..” he asked before seeing you turn around and a smile appeared on his lips.

he then gave you his phone directly. “look at the wallpaper” and he had barely finished his sentence when you quickly noticed that his wallpaper was nothing other than a photo of the two of you that he had taken during a of your appointments. “my password is your date of birth” he added almost immediately before looking inside his bag.

he searched for a few seconds before taking out a small stuffed animal that you had given him on your birthday a month ago, that he had kept with him ever since and that he had with him all the time since he never left his bag.

then he came closer to you simply to show you one of his necklaces with your initials engraved on it, which he had never taken off without forgetting this ring that you had both worn since the start of your relationship.

"I think you must be kidding me for asking a question like that when almost all I have with me are things that remind me of you. im obsessed with you baby."

following which, you were treated to an avalanche of kisses from your boyfriend to once again prove his love which quickly made you laugh.

“i know heeseung, it was just to see what you were going to say..” you had time to say before his lips pressed against yours.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JAY

you didn't even have the need to ask the question that strangely Jay had already seen this moment coming and so, throughout the day he had been expecting it, but deep down he was prepared. maybe even a little too prepared in fact.

you were both walking in the middle of the night, admiring the stars while the streets were far too quiet, and without knowing why, this question had come to your mind and obviously, you couldn't not ask it and you then turned to face Jay, who was already looking at you as if he had already understood.

"Jay.." you started innocently trying to coax your boyfriend into the future question you were going to ask him.

"yes darling?" he answered you, and this simple nickname made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turned pink, almost forgetting your question but you eventually came to your senses. "do you love me ?"

a soft laugh left your boyfriend's lips upon hearing your question and he knew perfectly well that your question was asked simply to see his response and reaction. he spent several seconds admiring you, his smile growing as he took in your beauty and his hand took yours, his gaze finally settling on your fingers noticing that you almost never wore rings.

his gaze ended up returning to your face, seeing perfectly well that you were waiting for some kind of response from him, he took the time to make you wait and his gaze went back down to your hand.

"what do you say about a darling ring?" he ended up asking you after three minutes without any response and his gaze returned to you.

hearing his sentence you couldn't really understand what he meant and after a few seconds you seemed to realize what he had just said and didn't even know what to say.

"Jay..?" you asked as you looked straight into his eyes and again a smile appeared on his lips, noticing that his sentence had disturbed you slightly and although you only thought it was a joke he ended up feeling a small black box which you were sure contained a ring.

your gaze was fixed on him, unable to know how he was feeling right before your gaze fell on that small box that was in your boyfriend's hands.

although he didn't position himself as a real marriage proposal you let out a little laugh of excitement imagining it as a proposal, and he knew that with this kind of action he was going to make you happy. when he opened the box and you finally saw the appearance of the ring, which was classic but at the same time with this very atypical appearance a smile appeared on your lips and a few seconds later the ring had ended up around one of your fingers and a smile also appeared on Jay's lips.

"Is that enough to prove that I love you darling?" he asked you even though he knew perfectly well that he had almost made you a real marriage proposal and that this simple detail had allowed a smile to remain on your lips.

"It's beautiful Jay..." you replied, looking at the ring now around your finger before your gaze rested on him and you almost immediately jumped into his arms.

a laugh left his lips before he placed a soft and tender kiss on your lips, holding you against him.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JAKE

"so my girlfriend really doesn't listen to me when I spend hours talking about her when I'm alone with her.." Jake said, realizing the question you had just asked him while he dramatized the whole thing. situation.

"What do you mean? Jake, I've never heard you talk about me.." you replied, slightly confused about what he had just said.

"oh my god this is not possible.." he began as he knelt on the ground, dramatizing the situation even more. "my girlfriend never really listens to me... what have I done to deserve this.."

a slight nervous laugh left your lips while your boyfriend was still overreacting. your gaze fixed on your boyfriend who was now completely lying on the ground as he slowly began to pretend to cry.

realizing that he wouldn't stop until a few minutes later, you took a seat on the couch and turned on the television, knowing that Jake would soon be his old self again.

"And on top of that I have a girlfriend who doesn't care how I feel right now... I don't understand what I could have done wrong to deserve all this ignorance when I'm the best boyfriend ever.." he continued to complain while you still didn't seem to react to his way of being.

and as you had finally imagined, Jake finally stood up and came to stand beside you, his head resting against your shoulder as he took your hand in his.

"sweetheart.. I spend so much time telling you how wonderful you are that I really wonder if you really listen to me and if you even pay attention to me.." he said almost immediately before slightly turn his head to look at you. "sweetheart.. it's such a stupid question that you asked me every day I leave you post-its on the living room table before I leave so that you have a love message when you wake up in the morning and to go to university... do you realize that every day I find new ways to prove my love to you?"

"Jake.." he started, realizing that if you didn't cut him off he was going to continue for hours and hours. "I know very well that you give me little speeches at the end of the day to tell me how much you are in love, you don't need to react like that... even if it's really funny and adorable to see you react so this way.."

after which he simply raised his head, his drama queen acting disappearing completely while a smile tenderly appeared on his lips and he quickly placed his lips against yours.

"I love you little monster.." he whispered against your lips while smiling.

"I love you too jakey.." you whispered against his lips.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ SUNGHOON

"do you love me Sunghoon?"

when Sunghoon had heard your question, his gaze landed directly on you as he held your hands and gently walked you across the ice with your ice skates on your feet.

"do you really think that's a question to ask while we're on a date at the ice rink, sweetie?" he asked as he directly noticed that look of distress when you understood what he was implying.

"I forbid you from letting go of me Sunghoon you know perfectly well that I won't hold on if you don't hold my hand.." you finally said, begging him with your eyes that he doesn't let go of you.

but, almost as if he had no reason not to listen to you, he let go of your right hand, and you directly felt a slight imbalance on the ice as you looked at Sunghoon again, hoping that he wouldn't Don't let go of your left hand.

and yet, that's exactly what he had done before he disappeared from your field of vision and you felt slightly panicked at the idea of ​​being without Sunghoon on the ice when you barely knew how to stand on your own. without you ending up falling.

then, as you felt ready to fall on your butt on the ice, you felt an arm slide along your waist before a laugh was heard to your left. and you knew this laugh perfectly since it was that of your boyfriend, and he had allowed himself to place a soft kiss on your lips before holding you so that you did not fall and just after starting to skate in making sure you were comfortable with the speed he had, and inevitably he ended up whispering in your ear.

"you shouldn't ask me that kind of question when we're in a territory where you're not comfortable sweetie.." he started as he continued on his way with you in your arms, making sure that your meeting at the ice rink is pleasant and does not spoil the moment. "then if you need an answer of course I love you, otherwise we wouldn't spend so much time going on dates just the two of us and, above all, I would never be so worried when you're on ice cream if I didn't like you then next time think about asking a little less stupid questions."

"Yes Sunghoon I understand and I know you love me I'm not stupid.." you replied and you noticed a second time that Sunghoon had finally let go of your waist making you panic slightly before he returns to its initial position when you want to meet at the ice rink, that is to say in front of you, ensuring that where you were moving forward.

but this time, as he took your hands in his he pulled himself against him, and quickly placed a kiss on your lips, a smile forming on his lips.

"now if you want we can resume the romantic aspect of our romantic date.." he told you, although he knew that meeting up here was not particularly romantic, but as long as you were with each other you considered it romantic.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ SUNOO

You and Sunoo were in the middle of a movie, in each other's arms while a blanket covered your bodies so you wouldn't get cold. a bowl of popcorn was on your boyfriend's legs as you snuggled up to him, using any excuse to be close to him.

everything was truly perfect, Sunoo had an arm around your waist to hold you against him while you both completely focused on the movie, only the sound effects of the movie being audible in the room as you enjoyed a real little nice romantic evening since you didn't do it as often as you would like.

but quickly your mind was bothered by a question that refused to go away until you felt compelled to ask it. and after ten minutes of fighting with your mind not to have to ask the question your gaze quickly came to Sunoo who was still completely focused on the movie, and a small smile appeared on the corner of your lips.

"Sunoo.. do you love me?"

hearing your question his heart skipped a beat just before his gaze left the television to land on you, and he observed your cute face and that beautiful smile before simply coming to kiss you, almost as if he didn't didn't want to answer the question but right after he whispered against your lips.

"it would be stupid not to love such a beautiful and incredible girl like you sweetie, so of course I love you. and I love you even more than you can imagine in your head."

then he focused back on the movie as if nothing had happened as your cheeks turned red at the confession he had just made to you, your head returning to rest on his shoulder as you focused back on the movie.

"then you are so magnificent that it would be a shame not to be able to tell the other members of the group that you are already taken just to see their faces when they find out.. I am very happy to have you by my side for let you go and I intend to make sure that you stay by my side as long as possible, hopefully for the rest of my life."

your cheeks had become a little redder when you heard him continue his little confession and simply because he seemed to be going into a very complete monologue you were obliged to come and silence him by placing his lips against yours before a small smile fakes between the two of you.

"I understand Sunoo.. and I love you just as much you know.." you ended up saying while taking his hand in yours and you finally continued watching the film while being in each other's arms.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JUNGWON

Jungwon had his own ways of showing you how much he loved you, so obviously asking him the question meant having to listen to a monologue from him about the many gestures he did just for you to prove his love. but even that didn't stop you from asking him the question anyway.

putting your phone away when you arrived in front of him, you displayed the most beautiful smile of yours just before realizing that he was unfortunately focused on the screen of his phone and therefore that he did not see you. but that also meant you could ask him so you sat next to him, pretending to be curious about what he was doing on his phone by resting your head on his shoulder.

"Jungwonie.. do you love me?" you asked and only two seconds later his phone screen had gone black as he moved slightly so he could look at you fully.

his hands had slid down your cheeks as he looked at you for a few seconds, and just by seeing his look you could imagine that your question had somehow disturbed him.

"Are you sure you're okay sweetheart? You know perfectly well that I love you with everything I do for you.." he began to explain.

and while he seemed to have gone into a monologue about all the things he loved about you, his right hand came to rest on your forehead to check that you weren't sick and that you didn't have a fever but absolutely no signs of illness.

so he looked at you without really understanding your question since you weren't sick, but, even with the confusion he was still monologueing about everything he did for you.

then suddenly, you noticed that he had gotten up leaving him alone in the living room while you didn't even know where he could go since you were also in the living room.

"Jungwon where are you going?" you had asked but absolutely no answer had been heard and you began to wonder if asking him this question was the right thing to do even if it was still for fun, and simply to know the reaction he was going to have.

a few minutes later, you saw your boyfriend come into the living room again, this time with a box in his hands which he placed in front of you. "I'll let you look inside and you'll understand for yourself that yes, I am madly in love with you, sweetheart."

your hands had gripped the box, curious to know what was inside and as soon as you opened it you discovered many letters all containing Jungwon's writing and, reading the contents of one you understood that They were love letters that he had taken the time to write himself simply for you, and you felt your heart warm just by reading them.

but your surprise didn't stop there because apart from the love letters, the box that jungwon had given you was filled with all kinds of things that you had given him, little notes that you had written to him yourself or even tickets to a concert you both went to. there were also many little red paper hearts, and noticing the effort Jungwon had put in just for that you understood.

he was very much in love with you, and he was certainly the most adorable boyfriend you could have ever had so inevitably, when the box was closed and put aside for his safety you found yourself directly in Jungwon's arms, t having fun then placing numerous kisses on his cheeks or his lips.

so much so that he started laughing when he saw the reaction you had with this little box which certainly contained far too large a dose of love just for you.

"you're adorable Jungwon!!" you said with the most beautiful smile on your lips.

"I imagine that you have understood that I am very much in love with you.." he replied with a laugh before taking you in his arms, and following this action a cuddling session had started.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ NIKI

"niki do you love me?"

no sooner had the question left your mouth than he looked up from his phone to look at you, knowing it was a stupid question you had just asked.

"No." he replied almost instantly with a rather disturbing sincerity.

and as soon as you heard his answer, which of course you absolutely didn't appreciate, you came to his side, taking his phone in his hands to put it next to him, forcing him to look at you, something he had done.

"sorry? you don't love me?" you asked a second time to make sure you heard the answer your boyfriend had just told you.

and, bringing his face closer to yours, almost as if he was about to kiss you, Niki looked at you, keeping a serious look as he repeated that same word a second time. "No."

it didn't take much for you to quickly leave his room, showing both your annoyance and your annoyance at the answer he had given you, but instead of reassuring you he let out a slight laugh, amused of your reaction.

and for the rest of the day you found yourself wanting to avoid him after the answer he had given you, not expecting Niki to answer "no" in that way which had annoyed you but also frustrated because, if this was the only moment where Niki had a good chance of saying yes, it was on this type of question.

of course, Niki, seeing your reaction, he couldn't help but remain in his role as a mean friend who had answered no to your question, and he obviously enjoyed annoying you no matter what he could say to you or do. after all, Niki found any excuse to act like a child when he could, and your question being stupid he was going to act even more stupid for the rest of the day.

it was only in the evening, when you were both under the covers that he slipped his arm around your waist to pull you back against him, knowing full well that you wanted to show him your displeasure but it wasn't working.

he placed a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear "you should have asked me how much I loved you instead.. the answer would have been easier and it would have saved you from scolding me all day kitten.."

but no response from you, you just remained silent not wanting in any way to show that you were about to just turn to face him.

"kitten... ask me the question, I promise you will get a positive answer" he whispered in your ear again as he placed a kiss on your cheek again.

"okay.." you finally responded, knowing perfectly well that niki wasn't going to leave you alone until you spoke. "How much do you love me Niki?"

"Really bad kitten... really like crazy"

and this simple answer made you blush almost immediately while a smile appeared on your lips.

"your question this morning was stupid... so obviously my answer was going to be just as stupid"

after which he just left many kisses on your cheeks just to tease you.

"I'm in love with you like crazy and I'm a little more in love with you every day so never doubt that sweetheart.."

thanks you for reading all of this it’s really sweet ! hope that you liked each of the members scenarios and that you enjoyed reading !

anyways loves you, see you soon !! 💗

[misctf]

Make it Make Sense

Adam sat at his computer, finishing up a calculus assignment. He was trying to stay focused, but his thoughts shifted to his weekend plans. A few of his buddies were going to get together to see the football game, and he was looking forward to his club soccer game on Sunday. For all intents and purposes, it was going to be perfect.

“Are you serious?” The nasally voice of Adam’s roommate interrupts his thoughts, “I don’t understand, this doesn’t make sense.” Kelvin says, irritation soaking his words.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, turning towards his nerdy roommate. There were nerds and then there’s Kelvin. At first, he was relieved to have a roommate that was going to focus on their studies. But Kelvin proved to be more of a distraction than he could’ve ever expected.

“You know what’s wrong!” Kelvin says, “Look!” He slams his most recent lab report on Adam’s desk, “A 91%! That’s an A-.” He grumbles.

“That’s a great grade.”

“No, no, no! You got a 96%!” He continues, “How did you get a higher grade than me?”

You shrug, “It’s not that big of a deal. You’ll do better next time. And I know people that would kill for that grade.” Adam says, turning back to his assignment.

“No. That still doesn’t answer my question.” Kelvin adjusts his glasses, “How did you get a better grade?”

Adam runs a hand through his brunette hair, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not supposed to be smart.” Kelvin retorts, “You like football and you play sports. Smart people don’t do that.” Adam raises an eyebrow, “You can’t be both.”

Adam chuckles, “Both?”

“A nerd and a jock!”

Adam smirks, “Alright, well why can’t I be both?”

“You can only be one.” Kelvin insists.

“Only one?” Adam chuckles. He wasn’t what one would consider a jock. Nor was he a total nerd. He always felt he was somewhere in the middle, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not much of either. What do you think?”

Kelvin gave his roommate a curious look, clearly thinking hard about the question. He slowly smiles.

“Well, I guess all jocks have big muscles. And I mean, those are certainly impressive.”

Adam raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself. He could see his biceps and triceps putting strain on his shirt. And his pecs seemed to be jutting out a bit more than he was used to. He lifts a hand and feels his muscular chest. It felt unfamiliar to him.

“What...?”

“And I guess it makes sense that you never wear a shirt. Jocks hate hiding their muscles.”

The chill of the room air tickled Adam’s skin, his eyes narrowing as his bare torso is on full display. Wasn’t he just wearing a shirt? He looks up at Kelvin, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Wow, I mean, I knew your muscles were big, but now I can really see them.”

Adam grunted as his musculature expands. His pecs filling with more muscle, while his biceps and triceps grew larger and larger. He let out a pained grunt as his shoulders broaden and his back fills with muscle. He frame a now hulking mass of manly muscle.

“And I always found it odd how often you shaved your body hair. Always going on about how being clean shaven helps highlight your pecs.”

Adam looked down and watched as his dusting of chest and belly hairs vanish. His skin now clean-shaven and slowly staining with a rich tan. A tan he got from all his shirtless runs. Shirtless runs? He shakes his head.

“Kelvin, wh... something isn’t right, bro.” Adam’s eyes widen, “Dude, seriously! Cut this out, bro!”

“Say ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ ironically enough times and soon it becomes part of your vernacular.” Kelvin mocked, “But I doubt you’re worried about that. You care more about finding the right lighting for a quick flex.”

Adam gasps as he feels compelled. He slowly flexes his bicep, the lighting perfectly highlighting his musculature and abs. He can’t help but grin.

“And I can tell you care even less for hygiene.”

Adam grimaces at the musky smell that wafts from his exposed pit. But slowly, his grimace shifts into a grin. Something about his man musk always brings him a sense of joy. The smell of a real man. He barely registers his brunette hair becoming lighter, until the brunette becomes a blonde.

“Yeah, a blond jock. That’s what makes the most sense.” Kelvin continues, “But outside of flexing and enjoying your own stench, I guess it would make sense if you were obsessed with...”

“W-wait!” Adam says suddenly, “Please... Kelvin...” He looks desperately at his roommate.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense.” Kelvin reassures, “Because jocks like you are dumber than a lamppost. Barely even able to do basic math. So obsessed with your body that you don’t have time to nourish your brain.”

Adam’s eyes widen as he can literally feel his brain shrinking. His intelligence, knowledge, and kindness quickly being overwritten. His school smarts replaced by gym routines and different poses. His empathy and kindness twisting into self-indulgence and narcissism. His eyes glaze over as they reflect his new IQ. A smirk forms on his chiseled face as brazen overconfidence overwhelms any semblance of decency. He looks up at Kelvin.

“The fuck you lookin’ at nerd?” He scoffs, “You like what you see, bro?” He flexes his biceps.

Kelvin smiles, “Don’t you have soccer practice?”

“Pfft soccer, bro? Really? Shit sport. I gotta lift.” Adam retorts. He looks over at his computer, “What the fuck is that?” He quickly exits out of his calculus assignment and stands up.

“Wait, Adam...”

“Adam? Nah bro. I’ve told you 100 fuckin’ times to call me AJ.”

“Right. AJ,” Kelvin says, “Don’t you need a shirt for the gym?”

The dumb chuckle that follows is music to Kelvin’s ears, “Nah bro, why’d I hide this?” He flexes again, “Trust me, the dudes and chicks at the gym dig this.”

Kelvin watches as AJ slams the door behind him. A grin forming on the nerd’s face. Everything made sense now. And while Kelvin celebrated his newfound comfort with reality, AJ took great pride in the looks he was getting from the people he passed by. Flaunting his muscles at every chance he got. His smaller brain satisfied with the attention. His dick twitching from the excitement of being lusted after. Because to him, this made sense. Who wouldn’t want to ogle over his hot bod? That’s right, no one.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Read II

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar

You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.

It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.

They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.

You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.

Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.

You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.

They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.

You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.

You don't count but it's definitely a lot.

Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.

You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.

"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."

"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"

You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."

"Are you sure? I can take you."

"No, Mary. My book, please."

"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.

You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.

"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."

You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.

"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.

"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"

"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.

"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"

Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"

Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"

Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"

Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."

Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.

It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.

The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.

Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."

She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.

This is all their fault, Mary knows it.

It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.

"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."

"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"

You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."

[ghostsangel]

“oh, wouldn't that be lovely? you would torture me. whisper me the reasons that you hated me. say it in the way that makes my knees go weak, and let me dangle from you like a piece of meat.”

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: mdni, enemies to somewhat lovers, simon legit hates us, shooting/bullet wounds, filthy ass smut, hatefucking, choking, squirting, meaaaan simon

The mission was starting off great.

First, Price had paired you with Ghost. That pissed you off more than anything considering the fact that Price knows you and Ghost don’t get along. The large, silent man doesn’t trust you on missions because you’re the newest member of the 141. He doesn’t listen to your input, just outlines the plan himself and expects you to follow.

The mission was pretty simple. Navigate through a series of warehouses and find the tiny USB drive that held intel the 141 needed. That all went to shit when Ghost didn’t listen to you and you ended up getting shot.

You throw your head back against the wall, groaning in pain as you clutch your arm. Ghost pushed you into an abandoned room, and you sink to the ground, eyes shut.

The wound isn’t bad—through and through, upper arm. You exhale shakily through the pain, glancing up at Ghost who is standing there looking down at you.

“Are you gonna stand there all fucking day or are you gonna help me wrap this?” You hiss at him, dragging your pack toward you to look for alcohol wipes and bandages.

Ghost says nothing, but he crouches down next to you, gun by his side. He grips your arm and assesses the wound, tilting his head as his eyes take in every detail.

“Through and through,” he grunts, taking the alcohol wipe from you. He tears it open and runs it along the wound, cleaning the blood and you shut your eyes.

“Fuck,” you groan, head tilting back as he works.

“Sorry,” he grumbles. That surprises you—he never apologizes.

You don’t respond, just let him spread antibiotic ointment over the wound before packing and wrapping it. You swallow down the pained groan in your throat and stand up, placing your pack back on your back.

You’re silent, not wanting to talk to him. You’re too pissed off. He got you shot, and all you want to do is go back to base and debrief with Price. You draw your gun and open the door, Ghost moving behind you.

He takes the lead as you move through the warehouse, taking down target after target. Eventually, you find the USB with the intel, and you and Ghost silently leave the warehouse and head to the rendezvous point.

You don’t even react when you get onto the heli, Ghost sitting across from you. Your arm aches and your head is pounding, and all you wanna do is deck Ghost in the fucking face.

Before the debrief, you head to the med bay where they stitch up your wound. It’s painful, but it eventually feels much better after being stitched up. Sighing, you head to Price’s office, finding Ghost already inside.

Price’s eyes flick to your arm. “Lieutenant Riley was just explaining what happened.”

“Yeah? He explained that he got me shot?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at Ghost.

“I didn’t get you shot.” His voice is gruff and blunt, eyes flicking to yours behind the mask.

“The fuck you didn’t.” Rage boils beneath your skin, and your nostrils flare. “You didn’t listen to me when I warned you, and it ended with me having a bullet shot through my arm.”

Price holds up his hands, silencing you and Ghost. “Look, you two can work this shit out another time. Lieutenant, did you get the intel?”

You pull the USB from your vest pocket. “I got it.”

Price takes it from you and nods. “You two are dismissed.”

You nod, saluting him before glaring daggers at Ghost and walking to your quarters. You’re sweaty and gross and desperately need to shower.

You shower quickly, rinsing off the dirt and grime from the day, thinking about Ghost. That man annoys the shit out of you, but you admit that he’s attractive in a weird, masked sort of way. The annoyance and hate outweigh the fleeting feeling, though, and you grumble to yourself as you get out of the shower and dress.

You head to the canteen, absolutely starving, running right into Ghost. You take a step back from his large frame, his head tilting down to look at you.

“How’s the arm?” He asks, his gaze flicking to the freshly wrapped bandage.

“Fine.” You look up at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Thanks for today, really. Absolutely adore getting shot.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” he says, and you swear he laughs.

“Okay, Ghost. Sure. Believe what you want.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow and you find yourself suddenly backed up against your door, his forearm pressed against your throat.

“Anyone ever told you that you act like a twat sometimes?” He asks. His eyes bore into yours, and you look back at him unflinchingly.

“Anyone ever told you that?” You retort, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Ghost chuckles and tugs his mask up. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re stubborn, don’t follow orders, boss me around…” His teeth graze your earlobe and a shiver runs up your spine. “Your attitude pisses me off and I fuckin’ hate how you act.”

You gasp quietly as you feel a hardness pressed against your stomach, and you push his head back so you can look into his eyes.

“So why are you so hard, then?” You ask, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Hm? You get so worked up just being around me?”

Ghost growls, forearm leaving your throat. Your body is pushed through your now open door, Ghost slamming it shut behind him. He grips your throat, tugging you to him.

“I’m hard ‘cause I think about fuckin’ you till you learn how to not be such a stubborn, bossy insubordinate.” He squeezes the sides of your throat, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

You can’t help it—it’s hot. The throbbing between your legs attests to that. Heat flutters in your belly, and your hands run down his shirt and underneath, digging your nails into his flesh and scratching down his stomach.

He lets out a groan, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You grin, teeth and all, nails still digging into the skin of his belly.

“Go on, then. See if you can try.” Your words are dangerous, but you want him.

Ghost tugs the mask up and off his face, and you barely have time to admire his scarred skin before his lips are on yours, hungry and angry. The kiss isn’t sweet—far from it. Teeth clash together, tongues sliding against one another. His hand grips your throat as he keeps you pressed against him, other hand snaking its way down to your ass.

You twist your fingers into his hair, giving it a sharp tug. Ghost lets out a groan as his head tilts back, and you graze his neck with your teeth, nipping at the skin harshly.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hands moving to grip your hips.

“You like pain, don’t you?” You mutter into his neck, sinking your teeth into the skin.

Ghost responds by pressing his hips against yours, his cock twitching in his pants. You grin against his neck, and he shoves you back until your legs hit the bed. You fall backward, Ghost working at your clothes. His eyes graze over your naked body, tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, hands running up your thighs. He spreads your legs, his middle and ring fingers spreading your arousal up your slit until he gets to your clit.

You lean your head back, moaning softly at the feeling of his rough fingers on your clit. You jolt as a sharp slap stings your sensitive nub, head snapping back up to look at Ghost.

“Eyes on me.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Sure, Lieutenant.”

Ghost growls softly, one hand moving to your neck as he hovers over you. His two fingers push inside you, relentless and unforgiving. He stares into your eyes as he fingers you, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you that sends an electric jolt down your spine.

“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he mutters, gripping your neck tightly.

Your heart flutters, and you gasp as he stretches out your tight cunt. It’s been so long since anyone’s touched you this way—you’re already falling apart. Ghost smirks at you, and your eyes rake down his face, admiring each scar that litters his skin.

“Ghost,” you whine, bucking your hips up. You feel lightheaded, no doubt from his grip on your throat. “Gonna come—fuck!”

He nods, his fingers pulsing against that sweet spot over and over, his hand moving from your neck to press on your lower stomach.

“Gonna come already?” He asks, his tone slightly mocking. “Fuckin’ pathetic. Barely even touched you.”

You whine, your hand moving to grip his neck. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, a moan slipping past his lips. You grin for a split second before your mouth opens and you groan, back arching.

“Go on, little brat. Feel you clenchin’ so tight around me. Gimme what I want.” His voice is gruff and rough, his fingers relentless as they find a home inside your gummy walls.

You cry out as you come, juices squirting onto his hand and down his wrist. He chuckles as you throb around him, eyes never leaving your face. His fingers slow, eventually pulling out of you with a little pop, and he brings them to his mouth, licking them clean and groaning at the taste.

Ghost stands, and you watch him as you pant, legs trembling from your orgasm. He strips, his cock hanging heavy when he pulls down his underwear. He pulls you to the end of the bed, gripping your hair and guiding you onto the floor until your knees thud against it.

“Open,” he says, forcing you to look up at him.

You obey—how can you not? Ghost strokes his cock before sliding it inside your warm, wet mouth. You take him eagerly, sucking and licking his shaft. He lets out a soft moan at the feeling, forcing your head down until your nose brushes his pelvis. You swallow around him, tears pricking your eyes as he just holds you there.

“Swallowin’ my cock like such a good little whore,” he says, looking down at you. His hips thrust forward, pushing him further down your throat and you thank God you don’t have a gag reflex.

He face fucks you slowly at first—lazy thrusts that have you moaning around his cock. Then, he picks up speed, and it’s not long before tears are mixing with the drool running down your chin. Ghost’s moans are heavenly, and the look in his half-lidded eyes make you squeeze your thighs together.

He pulls his cock out after a few minutes, tugging you up by your hair. He wipes his thumb under your eyes and uses his discarded shirt to wipe your mouth before he kisses you, picking you up and holding you against him.

His fat cock runs against your dripping cunt, and you whine into his mouth and grind down against him. He chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss and opening his eyes.

“Needy little whore,” he whispers, and then he’s sliding his cock inside you.

The stretch is intense, and you let out a garbled whine as he sinks into you. Your back hits the bed, Ghost holding your thighs to your chest as he watches his length disappear inside your warm, inviting cunt.

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he groans, head hanging forward as he pushes his entire length inside you, tip nestled snugly against your cervix. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Ghost, move,” you whine, bucking your hips up. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Oh, you wanna be good for me now?” He asks, drawing his hips back before slamming back inside you. “Gonna listen and be a good girl?”

You nod, and Ghost grins before beginning to fuck you hard and fast. His fat cock splits you open, leaky mushroom tip slamming against your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. He leans down, teeth biting into your neck as his hips move.

You feel like you can’t even breathe, your pussy clenching around him as his tip grazes your g-spot with each thrust. His teeth work at your neck, sucking and biting harshly, nails digging into your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock so well,” he whispers in your ear. “Gonna fill this cunt up, do you want that? Hm? Wanna be my little barrack’s bunny I get to breed?”

His words rip a moan from your throat, and you nod, nails dragging down his back. “Fuck, please. Please, Ghost, need it so bad. Gonna fucking come all over your cock, please let me come!”

His teeth nip and suck on the other side of your neck, his cock twitching inside of you. “Go on, bunny. Come for me.”

Your whole body trembles as you come, nails digging into his back so hard they draw blood. Ghost lets out a groan, face buried in your neck as his hips stutter and his cock throbs, emptying his load into your needy cunt. Your pussy throbs around him, milking him of every single drop of his cum.

He pants softly, warm breath hitting your sweaty skin. Blood drips down his back, and he plants soft kisses up your neck until he gets to your lips. The kiss is soft, unlike the ones before. He pulls back, forehead pressed against yours.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “My good bunny.”

[itneverendshere]

the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”

added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)

death by a thousand cuts - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.

Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.

Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”

Rafe freezes.

He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.

He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”

“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.

When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.

“No. I’m not doing this again.” 

“Rafe—”

“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”

Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”

“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”

Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”

“That’s enough, Rafe.”

But he's not done.

He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”

“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”

Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”

Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”

“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 

“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”

“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”

Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."

Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”

“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”

“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”

Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”

“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 

“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”

All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.

Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.

He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.

The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.

You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.

He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.

So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.

Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 

He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.

Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.

“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”

He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.

“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.

Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”

His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”

Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”

“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.

Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.

His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.

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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 

The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.

“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.

“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”

You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”

“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”

Your stomach drops. Instantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”

But you know better.

A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.

And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.

It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 

“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”

Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.

You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”

But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.

Why didn’t he come to you?

“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.

“I need to find Rafe.”

Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”

Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.

And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.

Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.

He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.

Something big. 

Why didn’t he tell you?

The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 

This is worse.

It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.

You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.

He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.

You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.

You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 

You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

He looks like a ghost.

Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“W-What?”

“Baby, look at you.”

He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.

“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.

He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”

“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”

His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”

“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”

“Hey now—"

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.

“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”

But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”

“Why?” 

 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”

“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.

He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”

It pushes something inside you.

Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 

“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”

“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“E-everyon leaves right?"

He’s never said anything like that to you before.

“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”

You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 

“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”

If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.

“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”

Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”

You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.

You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.

Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.

You left.

He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.

Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.

Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.

At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 

It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.

And then, it hits him all at once. You.

You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.

His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.

Why didn’t he stop you?

Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.

Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”

The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.

“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”

If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.

He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.

“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”

Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.

But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.

Rafe doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 

Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.

"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 

Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 

"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.

He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.

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It’s been two weeks since you last saw him.

Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.

You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.

And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.

Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.

You miss him. God, you miss him.

Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.

You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.

You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."

That was a week ago.

And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.

Because this can’t possibly end this way. 

He’s the love of your life. 

Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”

“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”

Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”

“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”

Your blood turns ice cold.

“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”

“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.

You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….

You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.

Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”

“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.

Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”

You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.

“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.

You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.

Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 

After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.

“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

Lucky. 

The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.

Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.

The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

You feel like you're going to be sick.

The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”

You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”

You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.

You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.

“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 

You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.

The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.

Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.

After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 

The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.

“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”

You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.

As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.

What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 

The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.

He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 

“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.

Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 

“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”

You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”

Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.

“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”

He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”

You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 

“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.

“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”

“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.

You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.

You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”

He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x reader | Lucien Vanserra x reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4

Summary: Reader and Lucien arrive at Day Court and go drinking. Azriel goes through some rough shit and gives Rhys and Cassian a new trauma.

wc: 6k

warnings: Alcohol, almost death experience, mentions of sex (?)

a/n: I wrote the Lucien scenes while drunk and sleepy, the next day when I went back to write I didn't remember half of it. It was a good surprise, I caught myself blushing at my own work.

After arriving at Day Court, Lucien took you to the inn where you'd be staying. Helion no doubt had a room ready for both of you, but Lucien didn't want to risk being stuck in his father's palace, not again. You understood his reasons, of course, the damage Beron had done to him was one Lucien would have to carry for the rest of his life.

The inn was cozy and entirely Day coded, embellished in white and gold. Your room was more of a flat, with a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom decorated with stained glass that reflected colorful lights, the kitchen was filled with white furniture, high arched windows allowed rays of sunlight to dance inside the living room, you could swear Lucien's skin seemed to glow with them.

Watching him in what was supposed to be one of his natural habitats was something special. Lucien had to learn how to fit into places that weren't ready to receive him in his true form, so he adapted. Although he still maintained some of his origins, the Autumn part of himself had mixed with Spring over the years, he kept some of the colors and habits, Day Court was only in his blood, hidden from everything and everyone, even himself for some time. While your wardrobe only contained Night Court clothes, Lucien had perfected his to fit into any court he had to visit.

Now adorned in white and gold, Lucien was breathtaking, striking male beauty only Helion radiated.

"When we get back, you should ask Feyre for a painting, it'll last longer." He didn't even lift his head to look at you. Your cheeks warmed, he caught you staring him up and down, but surely there was nothing wrong in admiring a friend right? Especially if said friend was Lucien, who deserved to be looked at with nothing but admiration and pride.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him with no true irritation. Lucien barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, a smile curled on your lips at the sight.

"There's nothing wrong with looking," he turned his upper body back to face you, flashing you a smirk. "I even dare say I liked it."

"Gods, you're so full of yourself aren't you?!" you groaned, more at yourself for eyeing him like that. After over a century of pining over Azriel, admiring him, wanting only him, looking at another male felt weird.

You went back to your room, dropping on the bed and rethinking your decision to come. You didn't regret accompanying Lucien, but this close proximity suddenly felt strange, you shared an apartment with him for God's sake, why did you feel this way?

Being with Lucien never felt wrong before, but now it did. Because you were starting to see him as a male, not a friendly male, an insanely attractive male. When your body heated and a knot formed on your lower belly, you thought of Azriel. Not Lucien. Now you weren't sure who you'd think of when your hand drifted down your body, who you'd imagine between your legs when your eyes slipped close from pleasure.

Azriel had never left you unsatisfied, it always felt good to be with him, he knew what to do and you wouldn't deny that, and it was natural that you'd only find pleasure with him or yourself. But if he could want another female when he was still with you, then you wouldn't feel bad about wanting another male while being single.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Lucien asked quietly, you hadn't even heard the door opening. You lifted your head to peer at him, he kept his head down while leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't my intention."

"You didn't," your head dropped back, "I'm just thinking." It was true, but he just didn't need to know what you were thinking. Lucien hummed and you heard his steps coming closer, you had closed your eyes for a moment when his weight dropped on the bed, instead of laying on the space beside you, he opted for laying horizontally above you, being careful to not lay on your hair but still close enough.

"Of him?" You would've laughed at the situation if you weren't so mortified. You wondered if Lucien thought the same, if he felt attracted to other females after Elain.

"Can I ask you something?" As embarrassed as you were, knowing that he felt the same would make you feel better, and if he didn't, then you'd just pretend you never felt anything.

"I didn't know we had to ask for permission, Ace,"  he tried teasing but his voice was as tense as yours. "Of course you can." You took a moment to find the courage you needed.

"Do you– ugh," it was harder than you expected, Lucien wouldn't judge you but he'd definitely tease you for being horny, and maybe that wasn't exactly what you needed.

"Just ask it." You turned your head up slightly, he already looked down at you, seeing him look so vulnerable and open eased your worries. Lucien was your equal, no matter what, he'd stand by you and some silly lustful thoughts wouldn't push him away. Not after everything you went through together.

"Do you feel... Like, do you want–or think of other... females?" heat rose to your cheeks and ears, you averted your eyes from his but kept your head turned to the side, so you could see if he tried to hide a laugh.

"Yes." Your head snapped up, his face was as serious as you ever saw him, like it didn't bother him at all to admit it.

"Yes?!" You didn't mean to sound so shocked, you were just surprised by his lack of concern. If it didn't mean that big of a deal for him, who had a mate, then it wouldn't be for you either. "Like in a–"

"Sexual way? Yes, I think of another female." His eyes drifted away before he turned to look up, "It's easy not to think of Elain. She's my mate, and yet... I don't even feel attracted to her anymore." His mouth opened and closed, a sigh escaping him before he looked at you, his eyes pleading for something you couldn't place, "Would you think badly of me if I said she meant nothing?" You wouldn't, couldn't ever think badly of him. Elain never gave him a chance, he was completely allowed to do and think whatever he wanted now. At least he had tried.

"No," your hands twitched with the need to touch him, comfort him, "I understand." The relief in his eyes was clear, he needed reassurance.

Only a beat of a moment passed before you could stand being so far. Slowly you pushed yourself up, wiggling your head against his arm hoping he would understand what you wanted, fortunately he did, with an amused scoff Lucien lifted his arm, allowing you to push yourself higher and drop your head into his stomach. His arm dropped beside your body, his fingers brushed your own arm a couple times before he deemed it okay to rest his hand on it.

"Can I ask you something?" Hearing the same phrase you spoke to him before now really sounded weird.

"Since when do we ask for permission?" Lucien laughed, his stomach moved and your head bounced, you lifted yourself to glare at him for it and it only made him laugh harder. Before you knew it, a hot hand placed on your forehead pulled you back down, his arm dropping to your chest to hold you back from lifting again.

"Why did you ask me that?" His voice was gentle and warm, your cheeks burned at how fast your body filled with goosebumps, "Do you feel attracted to other males?" At your lack of response, his thumb caressed your cheek carefully. "It's okay if you do, it doesn't have to mean anything."

It doesn't have to mean anything.

There's something about Lucien that just soothes you, as weird as it feels to say it, his mainly nature allows you to be yourself, no hard shells. You didn't have to fight off males at bars because Lucien was there to do it for you. You didn't have to be the male. He radiated warmth and comfort.

"Come," he didn't give you a chance to respond to his latter question, the hand that wasn't on your chest gently lifted your head, "Let's go get drunk." For a brief moment his eyes settled on your body, before you could feel embarrassed under his gaze, Lucien spoke with a certain annoyance, "But it won't do with those clothes, honey."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What's wrong with my clothes?" Even though your attire was rather simple, there wasn't anything particularly wrong or ugly about it.

"Funny, you never told me you had eye problems." The mocking smile on his face made you groan.

"Because I don't!" You yelled, sitting up so fast that your head spinned. Lucien blinked slowly, waiting for you to realize what was wrong, he only spoke when he noticed how lost you were.

"We're in Day Court, they're gonna kick us out of the bar if I take you out looking like this!" his hand gestured towards your dark clothes, "You're the perfect picture of a Night Court resident." Lucien stood up, snatching your hand and pulling you to your feet, you almost fell when he continued pulling you out of the room, towards the front door.

𓂃

When Azriel woke up for the second time, his chest hurt. A pressure he never felt before making it hard to breathe, his lungs burning as if he was drowning, the satin sheets scratched his sensitive skin. After he managed to fully open his eyes and look down at himself, he noticed red bumps on his arms and chest. When he tried to move, his whole body ached like he'd just fought the worst battle of his life. And the worst part was, he couldn't feel his wings.

In his half assed inspection, he noticed the dirty blonde hair sprawled across his sheets and he knew then that his shadows wouldn't help him. He tried to call for Elain, or anyone really, but he just ended up having a bad coughing fit. As he usually did when he couldn't or didn't want to speak, he called for Rhysand, hoping his brother would hear his desperate plea and help him.

'What's wrong?' his voice sounded annoyed but if Azrie wasn't so concerned, he'd notice how worried Rhysand actually sounded. 'Az? Answer me!'

When he woke for the third time, the room he was in wasn't his own, he recognized after a brief glance around that it was the infirmary.

"You're awake! Thank the mother..." The last part was uttered under his breath, Rhysand shot up to his feet, ruffling Azriel's hair with one hand and lightly patting his arm with the other. "I thought we'd lost you, brother."

Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway moments later, the door busted open and suddenly he was being pulled up, strong arms holding his body tightly.

"Idiot," sniffles and sobs muffled against his neck, "you scared me!" Cassian pulled back to look at him, wide and red eyes roaming over his face and body, taking in his features and wellbeing.

"What happened?" Azriel pulled back only to be taken by a different pair of arms, Rhysand nuzzled his head against his own, a shaky breath tickling his still sensitive skin.

"Madja said you had an allergic reaction, something you ate or drank or something overdosed..." Cassian spoke slowly, like the words felt weird on his tongue, "Azriel–" his breath got stuck in his throat, a choking sound filled the quiet room. Rhysand pulled back from the hug, violet eyes drifted between his two brothers, settling a while longer on Cassian. Azriel watched their silent interaction curiously.

"Az..." Rhysand called his attention, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "Your heart stopped beating."

𓂃

Shopping with Lucien was exactly how you expected. Trying on a bunch of different clothes only for him to roll his eyes and shake his head no, gesturing with a hand for you to get back inside the dressing room and try the next. You would've gotten annoyed at him if he didn't make up for his attitude.

"That's... By the Mother, Ace." He chuckled nervously, "Don't get me wrong! I mean—you're beautiful in any way, but in that... A Goddess would be outshined in your presence." You could swear the room had just turned a bit warmer and brighter at his words.

"Stop it–" you brushed him off.

"No, I mean it." That being the last dress you had to try on, Lucien got up from his seat, taking the basket with the clothes he'd approved and made his way towards you. His hand took yours gently, pulling you closer to himself, you were too busy trying to avert his gaze to notice the way he looked at you, the way he admired you. Trying to get your attention Lucien squeezed your hand, making you look up, for a moment you both just stared at each other, then he lifted your hand and made you turn slowly.

"Yeah, we're definitely taking this one." Lucien didn't give you time to be embarrassed, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the shoes section.

𓂃

"What?" His question was whispered under his breath, his sore throat made his voice rougher than it usually was.

"For a few minutes we–" Rhysand exhaled another shaky breath, "we lost you. You died." He waited for Azriel to show any reaction before caressing his mind with careful talons. Azriel allowed him with no more than just a blink.

"Az? Azriel!" Rhysand tried to shake him awake, feeling his brother's frigid skin made him recoil. "No..."

"Rhys? What's– Oh Gods, no, no, no!" Cassian pushed the High Lord aside, gathering Azriel in his arms and walking out in hurried steps. Being careful not to bang his wings, long legs or head against the door and walls.

He knew he hadn't checked Azriel's pulse or breathing, and refused to look down at his bare chest to know for sure, but he only had one thing in his mind at the moment, finding help. He would do anything to make sure his brother would live, but he knew he couldn't help him in this situation, and he also knew how Rhysand felt on death threatening occasions, so he went to the only other place that could give Azriel the type of help he needed.

Madja was always ready for anything, there was never a day or night where she wasn't able to help. Whatever it was, she always had the solution for it.

Until now.

"I am so sorry, High Lord!" she seemed as desperate as they were, "It seems his body is fighting something, he has symptoms of an allergy reaction, his organism reacted badly to something and is now trying to reject it. But I can't tell what and if I can't tell... then there's nothing I can do..." her eyes were filled with moisture, she couldn't meet anyone's gaze and wouldn't tear hers away from Azriel.

"We can't just sit here..." Cassian pondered, something came to his head and he glanced at Rhysand, noticing how he seemed to be on the verge of panic he stepped closer, "Brother, look at me! He's not going to die, you hear me?! Azriel's not going to die!" Cassian shook him, calling to him in his mind, showing him what he was thinking.

𓂃

Four drinks in and you couldn't take it anymore, it'd been so long since you've gotten drunk that you weren't sure if you knew how to handle alcohol, Lucien didn't seem like he'd stop any time soon. Now you realized how spoiled Rhysand had gotten you, unintentionally or not. You were used to his wine and the drinks at Rita's, which paled in comparison to what they had in Day. A little part of you that hadn't come out in so long, slowly slipped to the surface, new ideas about trying the rest of the unusual drinks or roaming the city trying a drink from each bar you could find filled your head.

"Didn't you like it? We can try another." Lucien tapped your arm with his fingers, bringing your attention to him.

"No, this one's fine," you took a sip of the coloured drink trying to make a point, grimacing as you did.

Lucien grinned, "Yeah? Then I'll get another–"

"No!" Your hand shot up to hold his arm when he moved to stand, his face told you you'd have to give him a good excuse if you wanted him to sit back down. You groaned and let go of him, your fingers lightly pushed the drink away. "It's not bad–Really! it isn't! It's just... I'm not used to drinks this strong." You muttered the last part, hoping he wouldn't catch.

"Sorry, what was that?" He leaned close, one of his hands cupping his ear. You rolled your eyes.

"I said, I'm not used to drinks this strong." Lucien cooed at you.

"Aw, baby! You could've told me!" the hand that cupped his ear fell to your back, gently patting and rubbing you, you waited for the moment he'd mock you, "I would've asked for a warm cup of milk–"

A loud smack echoed. Just in time for your hand to make contact with his arm, the talking and music quieted. A few faes turned to glance at you both, raised eyebrows and hushed whispers, your cheeks heated up at the embarrassment consuming you. Lucien threw his head back and barked out a laugh that had your head falling against the table with a tud, you wanted to cave a hole right there and bury yourself in it, only coming out centuries later when everyone had forgotten it, including yourself.

𓂃

"Thank you." Rhysand breathed out, after seeing some color return to Azriel's face he felt like he could properly breathe again, "Really, I'll be in debt with you for the rest of my life." Those were dangerous words for a High Lord like him, and still he pronounced them clearly, it was a promise.

"No need. You're my friend and I'm glad to help." Helion patted his arm and left after a brief nod in Cassian's direction, wanting to give them the privacy to be vulnerable. Cassian immediately took it, crossing the room and pulling Rhysand into a tight hug.

"He's okay, he's okay." He repeated. Rhys hummed against his neck in response.

Now that the worst part was over, that he was sure Azriel would live, the brutality of the situation hit him. Azriel almost died and Elain was behind it. He wondered if she knew what she did, if that was her intention from the beginning or if it was an accident. He wondered why. Even though he hated the idea, he thought she loved him, thought they loved each other, enough so that Azriel defied him. But this... this wasn't love. Her reasons to do it didn't matter.

Rhysand hated himself for failing his brother, but he hated her more. He wanted to go back to the House of Wind and make Elain pay, perhaps giving her the drug she had given Azriel and see what happened, a strong Illyrian male survived, with the right help, he wondered how a simple high fae would take it, alone.

While embraced in strong loving arms, Rhysand fantasized about the female who almost killed his brother, who threatened his family. Wild fantasies of her in extreme pain, deadly worry, agonizing her last breath filled his mind. He wondered if Azriel would want a turn with her, if he'd want to make her pay for almost ending his life, for taking away his choice, for destroying the life he'd built with you.

Ace. He had to tell you, even if you ended up ignoring him, even if it didn't change anything for you, you should know. But he had something to do first.

𓂃

Coming back to the inn felt like a dream. With merry eyes that place was heavenly. You didn't remember getting ready for bed but the oversized shirt you wore and lack of makeup on your face showed you had. After doing your morning routine, you left your room. You assumed Lucien was still asleep given that there weren't any sounds coming from the hallway, so with quiet steps you made your way to the kitchen, only to find the table already set.

You were too busy munching on a piece of bread to notice the presence behind you. Two fingers jabbing into your ribs and a weirdly attractive 'morning' uttered by your ear made you jump, the squeak the chair let out mixed with your yelp. When your heartbeat stopped deafening your ears, you heard Lucien howling.

"The bread!" He wheezed. You watched him with narrowed eyes but after understanding what he had said, you started searching for it. "Cei–" he tried to say something only to start laughing again.

"What?" You frantically searched for the bread and still there was no trace of it, glancing back at Lucien you noticed his finger pointing up. The piece of bread had stuck to the ceiling above your head, the splashes of jam started falling as you looked up. A weird wet sound and the smack of bread on the table had Lucien barking out laughter.

Someone knocking interrupted your silly moment, Lucien wiped the tears in his eyes and walked to the front door. The silence that followed was awkward, there was no sound after the door opened, no greetings. A few seconds later you got curious and decided to go see who it was, as you walked closer Lucien asked what was wrong, you would've waited fro the other person to speak if you hadn't caught a glimpse of black. As you fully turned the corner, violet eyes drifted to you.

There was something in him that just felt unsettling. Rhysand seemed disturbed, and you hoped it had nothing to do with you.

"I need to talk to you." His voice was quiet, worrying you even more. You nodded and Lucien invited him in, closing the door behind him.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." He walked away after a brief look at you.

You took Rhysand to the living room, pointing for him to sit before taking the other side of the couch. The High Lord leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his fingers fidgeting.

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm going to show you," he hesitantly turned to face you, "if you allow me."

"Okay." Even if it had something to do with you, it was bad enough to make Rhysand nervous, and that wasn't good.

Images of the last three days filled your mind. Azriel's pale body limp and Cassian gathering him would haunt you forever. Seeing Rhysand's inner turmoil, Cassian fighting to stay composed for his brothers sake, the Archeron sisters yelling at each other, Mor and even Amren looking troubled, it was all too much for you. Minutes after the memories ended you still hadn't pronounced a word, there was not a single indication of what you were thinking or feeling.

"Helion helped heal him, Madja wasn't able to so we brought him here. We would've taken him to Dawn but given that it was a potion, we couldn't risk losing time only to be met with no solution, and since there's not a spell Helion doesn't know, it was a wise decision." With a glance in his direction, you noticed how he nodded absentmindedly, his voice quiet as if he was talking more to himself. "It was Cassian."

The thought of Cassian poisoning Azriel sounded horrifying and the most unrealistic thing ever, "What?!" It was a loud whisper, you would've yelled if your voice hadn't failed you, almost muted from shock.

"No! Gods, no! I'm sorry I made it sound like that, I meant that it was Cassian's idea to bring him here. He took over when I couldn't think straight..."

"Thank the Mother," you breathed out, relief overtaking you for a moment before another thought came to mind, "but, who was it?" you hesitated for a moment, Azriel couldn't have poisoned himself accidentally, and the thought of someone close to him doing that, was terrifying. If someone had the guts to harm The Spymaster of the Night Court, they were either out of their mind, or the most threatening person to enter that court in centuries.

"Elain." Your stomach dropped, that uncomfortable sensation of shock filled you, Elain!?

Out of everything your mind could have come up with, Elain harming Azriel wouldn't be one of them. Up until a few seconds ago you still thought they loved each other, thought she wanted him badly enough to push her mate aside, thought he wanted her badly enough to throw you away and go against his brother to be with her. She had him, how could she harm him like that? Why?

"When Azriel was stable, I went to interrogate her, to know exactly what her intention was." He started when he noticed you were lost in thought. "It was a love potion. She had been cultivating passionflower for months now, its tea is used to treat insomnia, anxiety and pain. but apparently it's also used on love potions. So every time she pretended to help him ease his anxiety and sleep better, she was also drugging him into being in love with her." You uttered some curse words under your breath, Rhysand nodded in agreement before continuing. "She was using the flower petals and concentrated syrup on the cakes and pastries she gave him, saying it was a new recipe or just a form of payment for his help. According to her, three nights ago Azriel started acting differently, she could see the way his behavior drifted from being obsessed and lustful to disgust and indifference, so she thought it'd be a good idea to triple the tea's dose. The thing is, Az already had a decent amount of it in his system, he just wasn't reacting to it, and after the triple dose... It made him relax and sleep as intended, but when he drifted off, his heartbeat slowed way more than normal and it only got worse. The soreness he was feeling from the past few days turned into extreme pain, the beating Cassian and I gave him, his wing... It all made him too sensitive, the bruises turned red and angry like closed wounds or rashes. He managed to wake up somehow," Rhysand gave a humorless laugh, "and he called me... when I found him..." he drifted off, for sure reliving the moment behind his closed eyelids.

"Rhys..." you tried to find what to say, but nothing came up, you couldn't think straight. Your lower lip trembled, your eye stinging with tears that you couldn't keep from falling. A hand rested over your shaky one, his body shifting closer to you, his other hand bringing you to lean on his chest, planting a kiss to the side of your head before resting his against you and letting his own tears fall.

"I know it's a lot to take in... it was for me too." He breathed shakily in and out. "I took care of her, Az is safe, no one will hurt him again. It's okay." He kept uttering words to comfort you both.

You didn't know what to think. Azriel hadn't chosen her, he didn't love her, didn't push you aside because he stopped loving or wanting you. It made sense now why he seemed so intrigued when you mentioned breaking up, why his change was so sudden, why you didn't recognize him. The Azriel you broke up with wasn't the same Azriel you had fallen in love with, and at the same time that it relieved a horrible weight off of your chest, it also laid another. Because even if it wasn't your fault, you hated yourself for not seeing it earlier, for leaving him and giving her the chance to have him, and more so for even for a brief moment, wanting Lucien.

"You couldn't have known." You immediately closed off your mind and pushed away from his chest, refusing to meet Rhysand's eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't ever do that. I hate myself too for not seeing it, I knew he was different but I was just so pissed that I didn't even consider... I'm sure that the Azriel we know wouldn't judge you either. And, can I tell you something?" His hands were still holding yours and rubbing your back.

"Yeah." You still refused to look at him, your cheeks tinged with shame, Rhysand lifted your chin, his face showed no signs of bad emotions anymore, and if you dared guess, it showed hope.

"First I want you to know I'm not prompting you to do anything, I just want you to acknowledge the truth, you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. Again, I'm not going to judge you." He waited until you understood and nodded before speaking. "Azriel never loved Elain. His heart belongs to you... his soul belongs to you."

You tilted your head in question, wondering why he looked at you so intrigued. Of course, hearing that Azriel never loved another from someone else's mouth comforted you, showed that you weren't so wrong in assuming.

"Sweetheart–" he opened his mouth to continue but closed quickly after, thinking for a moment before meeting your eyes with a newfound determination, "Elain only resorted to that because she knew she was losing time, she couldn't make him fall for her naturally, and she knew she wouldn't have the chance to do it if Azriel found out." Rhysand shook his head when he noticed you didn't have a clue of what he was saying, his talons caressed you mind wanting to show you. It was a moment you didn't remember, and wouldn't ever because it didn't and wouldn't happen.

Both you and Azriel babysitting Nyx, who was snuggled in your arms, giggling from your fingers tickling his sides. Azriel watched the scene with adoring eyes, his shadows danced at the sound of your laughter, floating around you. The baby's back was turned to him, and the sight of his wings and black hair gave Azriel an image of what could be his future. His baby, giggling and snuggling with you, their eyes a copy of yours, nose the perfect mixture of you both, pointy ears half hidden behind black hair. Your eyes met his from behind his nephew's head, the light in them and your face glowing with happiness told him you were thinking the same. The love he cultivated behind his ribs bloomed, he could swear his heart pulsed so hard you could see it moving even hidden behind his shirt.

He watched you gently place Nyx down, making sure he entertained himself with some toys before making your way towards him. Azriel met you halfway, as always, locking his arms behind you and pulling you into his chest, your bodies fit perfectly.

"Can you imagine it?" You spoke softly.

"Yeah, I can." You could basically hear his smile.

Azriel pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to your head to make you look at him. Your eyes met hazel ones, the molten gold in his eyes, mingled with green and brown, glowed. The swirls they made resembled his shadows, you could spend hours staring into his irises and still they would fascinate you. Azriel blinked, when your eyes met this time, there was gold in yours too, a small thread growing brighter and brighter, his heart ached, a pull constricted his breath and he hissed, when your brows furrowed and your eyes watered, he knew you felt the same.

The thread became bigger and you finally felt your souls connected, Azriel's happiness was overwhelming, the tears fell. His forehead rested on yours, he sniffled and chuckled a moment later, shaking his head in astonishment.

"It's you..." he smiled, pulling back and caressing your face, "I always knew it was you." He whipped your tears while his own fell freely down his cheeks, your hands cupped his face, bringing him down for a kiss.

The memory ended and your heart broke. Seeing Azriel so close like that again, and so full of love, that was the male you knew and loved, knowing that perhaps you'd never get to experience that moment with him, absolutely wrecked you. Your throat tightened trying to hold back your sobs, fat tears rolled down your face, wetting your and Rhysand's shirt. 

Azriel was your mate. It was you he was tied to. Not Elain, not Mor. You.

Your mind provided you with a thousand possibilities of how your life could have been, if only Elain hadn't interfered. Your heart ached for him, for you, for the family you could've built. You still wanted him, it was too soon for you to have stopped wanting, but it was also too early to tell what was the right thing to do. Perhaps such a thing didn't exist, you both have always walked a thin line between right and wrong.

What confused you most was also longing for Lucien. Right when you decided that it wasn't wrong to want him, this happened. How could you feel so much want, and for different people? 

So you cried. For everything and everyone. For all the possible futures you could've had, and for the ones you still could have. For hatred, for love, for the blankness inside you. For not knowing if what you felt for Lucien was only lust. For still loving Azriel, enough that whatever happened with Elain didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his fault anyway. And most importantly, you cried for yourself. For the pain inflicted upon you, for the rough path you always had to walk, for the weight of the world that you carried on your shoulders everyday.

Rhysand didn't move, his arms never strayed from your trembling body. He never tried to stop your tears, he knew you had to get the pain out someway. He whispered gentle words right by your ear, everything he knew would help ease your worries and pain.

The tears stopped after a few minutes, Rhys didn't let go immediately, letting you make the first move and pull away first. After that you spent a little while thinking through your options, taking a moment to decide what you wanted. 

“Do you think–” you glanced at him to see his expression, “do you think he'll want to see me?” 

“What?!” Rhysand scoffed, “Sweetheart, of course he'll want to see you.” 

This trip was supposed to be relaxing, a time for you to not think of everything that happened. Lucien has asked you to come with him, to be there for him. You knew that he'd be okay with you going to see Azriel, because that's just the way he was, he would put himself aside to make sure his friends were happy, nevermind that his own happiness was just as important.

If someone deserves happiness, a happy ending, it's him. Lucien overworked so he wouldn't notice how alone he was, he used to avoid going home before you went to live with him. You both had become so much closer in the past few days, taking care of each other, having more fun than you've had in years. 

You weighed your options, you could stay with him and continue with your original plans, you could go see Azriel out of respect for the time you spent together and worry for the male you loved, you could just send a letter, and you could go back to him, because none of what happened was his fault.

“I need some time to think.”

Taglist: @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @meritxellao @cleverzonkwombatsludge @paintedbyshadows @mp-littlebit @rcarbo1 @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @littlepippilongstocking @lorosette @minnieoo @hailqueenconquer @azriels-shadowsinger @blessthepizzaman @chelsiemp @saltedcoffeescotch @thestartitaness @historygeekqueen @sillyfreakfanparty @entr4p3 @warmdragonfly @clementine111002 @azriel-shadowsingerr @amiime @anuttellaa @loulou0101 @acourtofbatboydreams @xmalfoyweasleyx @anna-reader-blog @melmo567 @buttermilktea11 @helo1281917 @thelov3lybookworm @cazrielsfairygf @hanatsuki-hime @st4r-girl-official @feiwelinchen @fhgsvbnh

[naturesapphic]

Hi! Would you be able to do a CEO!older!Natasha romanoff x Younger!fem!reader fic where reader is part of a startup advertising company while nat is the feared CEO of a well known advertising company and both met in a fancy wine bar only find out they’re business rivals in the advertising industry. Fluffy and some steamy smut please

Business rivals

CEO!older!natasha romanoff x young!fem!reader

Warnings: strict nat, fluff, smut

Word count: 1,002 :)

Walking into the bar, you were hit with the smell of alcohol and some type of fancy perfume. You walked up to the bar and sat down and ordered a strawberry martini. Feeling a presence behind you, you looked behind you to see a beautiful red head in a black suit and tie. “May I seat here?” She asks in a strict but kind voice. You gave her a smile and nodded your head. The red head smiled back and sat down next to you. “What are you having sweetheart?” The red head asked and you chuckled at the pet name she gave you. “A strawberry martini.” You replied and she shook her head. “Why don’t I buy you something stronger hm?” She suggested and you shook your head.

“No thank you. I need to stay as sober as I can. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You explained to her and she nodded in understanding. "I have work too but ! can just call out if I really need to." She smirked as she called over the bartender and ordered a bottle of vodka. Your eyes widen in surprise at her choice of alcohol and she just gave you a playful smirk and wink. The two of you talked for hours at the bar and learned so much about each other but what she was about to say now was something you weren’t expecting her to say. “I’m actually the CEO of stark advertising.” She confessed and you felt your whole face turn pale at her words. The redhead noticed how your whole demeanor change and she asked what was wrong.

“You work for stark advertising. You are Natalia Romanov, You are my rival!” You exclaimed with wide eyes and Natasha’s eyes widen themselves. “Shit…” she muttered under her breath while you sat there dumbfounded. “You are feared and an asshole..but getting to know you…the real you…I don’t see it…” you confessed to her and she looked into your eyes with a mix of mischievousness and softness in them. She got a little bit closer to you and carefully took one of your hands in hers, making you look up at her. “I really like you y/n. If you could just give me a chance…we can even go back to my place tonight if you want.” She suggested and you nodded, deciding to give her a chance.

~ at the house ~

You didn’t know how you were half naked on her bed with her on top of you but that’s what’s happening. Lips are connected and moving as you swiftly take off Natasha’s clothes. She was completely bare, her pale skin gleaming in the lamp light that was shining on the bedside table near the bed. Her short red hair that sits on her shoulders frames her face. You were in awe of her and she interrupted your admiration but leaning down and kissing your neck sloppily. You were a complete mess and she was barely doing anything to you. Natasha while kissing your neck and leaving hickies behind, was busy taking the rest of your clothes off, leaving you fully naked as well. Her bare body pressed up against your had you spiraling and not thinking straight.

Her gentle but yet firm touches and the smell of her hair, the softness of her body, the noises that come out of her mouth when you hit a certain spot, had both of you in a frenzy. Natasha was satisfied with your neck and started leaving kisses down to your breast. Your nipples harden by the coldness that filled the room and she took one of your pink buds between her lips, suckling softly. You bit your lip at the sensation and gently raised your hand to run your fingers through her red locks making her eyes snap up at you. She sucked on both of your nipples before kissing down to your stomach to your pelvis. She kisses all over your thighs until she got to your dripping cunt. Using her index and middle finger, she spread opened your lips, revealing your wetness and your throbbing hole.

Natasha smirked and licked her lips. “Is this all for me doll?” She said huskily that made your pussy clench. “Y-yes nat…all for you..” you whimper out, causing her to chuckle. She leaned down and attached her lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You let out a strangled breath and you shut your eyes tightly, feeling the pleasure all through your body, like a shock. She lapped at your pussy then went back to sucking on your clit, mixing the two together to get you to orgasm quickly. Which happened because not even a few minutes later you felt the tightness in your stomach and you let go. You came all in her mouth and Natasha greedily lapped it all up, not leaving a drop behind. You panted in the middle of the bed, recovering from the orgasm that nat just gave you.

“Fuck nat…” you breath out and Natasha let out a chuckle as she goes up and lays beside you, pulling your sweaty body to hers. “That was amazing.” You tell her as you roll over to face her, her arms still wrapped around your body. “I’m glad it was…” she said softly as she moves some of your sweaty strands of hair away from your face, causing your face to heat up. The two of you laid there admiring each other until y’all fell asleep in each others arms.

A/n: I haven’t been very good with endings but thank you @unlady-like-12-25-36 for the request! I hope you enjoyed it and that everyone else did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :) special thing coming up this week ;)

[lulunothulu]

Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙

Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗

“Don’t worry”

Tyler Owens x Reader

“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.

He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.

When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.

“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.

He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.

‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.

Tyler’s heart stops.

Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.

He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.

He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.

When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.

“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.

He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”

He checks your pulse.

Good, steady but kind of weak.

Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.

Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.

The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.

“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.

He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.

“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.

“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.

———

At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.

How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?

He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.

Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.

“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.

“When?” He’d asked.

“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”

The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.

Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.

“Tyler?”

“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”

“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”

“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.

The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.

“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.

“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.

“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”

Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”

“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”

“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”

“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”

“10:30 PM,” he tells you.

“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.

Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”

He turns around. “Yes baby?”

“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.

[tinydefector]

Do you think cybertronains get a bit uncomfortable at senses humans have? Like uncanny valley or being able to sense when something is staring you to long. Maybe just primal senses showing in general that no longer should show in modern society. I've always had the mild idea that cybertronains "evolve" in the sense of what's necessary and once it's obsolete it starts to fade away until needed again. But humans don't work like that. Which raises the question as to why we have such strong sense that warn us of dangers like mimics or sensing a stare of something that isn't there. I just would find a funny of bots and cons wondering wtf traumatized humanity so bad we never got over it. As well as them losing their mind over the disgusting random wonder that is evolution.

Ohhhh, i love this. I might have to do something with it in the future in a fic. But I can totally see the bots just watching a human for a little, and next thing their head snaps in the direction of the bot, and they both just stare. And the bots are just there thinking. "Primus they are so cute when they get focused like that," and the humans out here staring down the bot while having goosebumps and the scene of dread going. "Why are they looking at me? Do they want to eat me or something?" And it slowly gets to the point many of the bots begin to realise it. Watching what seems almost like a prey drive in humans. Something that cybertronians don't have, but they know of. And it begins to get to the point that they are really on guard around their human. But the human scene is very handy with the cons, rogues, or DJD. The human just goes. "Wait, something doesn't feel right," and the bots listen.

But also imagine humans explaining some of the crypitds monsters and lore of their planet, and Cybertronians are just horrorified. Ans the first time a Cybertronian feels that kinda feeling is when there is a sparkeater on ship, and it really makes them wonder if their programming is upgrading to have the same hidden scene the human's have.

[dekariosclan]

We know from the epilogue that Gale is often so immersed in his research that he can ignore everything in the world, including Tav, until he finishes. How will Gale make amends after a few days of ignoring his love?

Ps: Tav wasn't really mad at him, of course, but sometimes it's a shame that the book is given more time than Tav, don't you think so?

Ooh what a great question!! 🥰

So I have to imagine that Gale getting caught up in his research—the topic of which can be anything and everything, depending on what his brilliant mind decides to focus on that week—is something Tav gets used to pretty quickly.

But I don’t believe that Gale ever fully ignores Tav, no matter how passionate he is about the topic he’s working on. For example, I don’t see him locking himself away in his study for hours at a time and completely forgetting to interact with Tav. This is a man who spent a year+ in lonely isolation, bereft, desperately longing for company. This is a man whose greatest wish (as shown by the magic mirror in Act I) has always been for a sweetheart to join him in his tower. And this is a man who, even when he read Karsus’s book and his thoughts were consumed with the knowledge it contained, was still focused on Tav, and what Tav would think, and how Tav would react.

So all that said—what I DO think happens is that he becomes immersed in his research to the point of complete distraction.

I can see him going up and down the tower, rummaging through his piles of books and bookshelves, paging through giant tomes, then tossing them aside and muttering to himself, while his conjured mage hand scribbles notes on a piece of parchment. Meanwhile, Tav watches all of this with fond amusement—because while Gale is pacing around with his nose buried in a book, his mind seemingly a million miles away, he’ll still occasionally take Tav’s hand and press it to his lips for a gentle kiss, all without ceasing his reading.

At other times he’ll step into the room and, with his gaze focused on the book or notes clutched in his hands, start bouncing ideas off of Tav: “My love, did you know that the alchemical properties of Daggerroot make it an excellent weapon coating? Do you think it could also be used for medicinal properties? Yes or no?…Hmm—I can tell by your silence that you are hesitant about it…you know, I do believe that you are correct in your assessment. Yes, now that I think about it, Mugwort remains the superior choice. Excellent advice my love, you truly know how to steady the direction of my mind even through the most volatile of seas!” Then he’ll hurry away—all without realizing that Tav was not even in the room, but in the hallway behind him, watching all this play out while trying not to laugh.

AND THEN, finally, when Gale has completed his work and the scholarly portion of mind is satisfied (until the next topic takes hold…) Tav will look up from whatever they were doing to find that their delightful wizard has, without their noticing, conjured an entire dinner spread of Tav’s favorite foods, scented candles, and flowers.

And their wizard will be before them, gently plucking whatever book or letter or item that Tav had been engaged with from their grasp, so that he can take both of their hands in his. Then he’ll caress them slowly, while smiling lovingly into Tav’s eyes, his full attention on them and them alone.

“Done with your research now, are you?” Tav will ask with a smile.

But Gale will shake his head. “My love,” he will admonish gently, as he worshipfully caresses his fingers over their face, down their jawline. “You should know that a wizard’s research is never done.”

Then he’ll place his bent finger under their chin, and smile. “I’m simply moving on to studying my favorite subject,” he’ll conclude, as he tips their head up and kisses them deeply.

[dollieseo]

TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME AGAIN.

SYNOPSIS. you unintentionally became close to ning yizhuo as trainees. she made it into aespa, you didn’t. after you left sm and debuted with le sserafim, the desire to reconnect is heavy, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.

FEATURING. ningning x le sserafim 6th member reader

WARNINGS. none, maybe a little angsty tho idk

AUTHORS NOTE. first fic hello!! inspired by this song

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

you came to sm entertainment with the sole purpose of becoming an idol. it’s all you’ve ever wanted since you were eight years old. it wasn’t to make friends or build relationships; you wanted to work.

you kept to yourself during your trainee period, never really getting close to anyone. the trainee system was a twisted game and one small mistake could get you sent home. you’ve seen it happen with other trainees who were friends. one would be let go and the other left without their other half. you didn’t want any of that to get in the way of your goal.

ning yizhuo joined the company a year after you did. she was young, only a year younger than you. you remember the first time you officially met her in the practice room, which was completely by accident by the way.

as you walked through the company halls, going to your reserved practice time, you could faintly hear music playing from the practice room, which you found odd. you decided to slowly crack the door open to peek through and saw the younger girl practicing the choreography to into the new world. you know that she was new, maybe two weeks in? it makes sense that she wouldn’t know about your routine. you debated on just leaving and finding a different room, but decide against it.

as soon and you fully entered the practice room she seemed to take notice, jumping in surprise and instantly turning to greet you. you watched as she rushed to turn the music off, it was a little comedic. she hesitantly walked towards you, not really knowing what to say. you could sense the confusion on her face.

“this is my usual rehearsal time here,” you begin, and before yizhuo can spew out apologies, you continue, “it’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“i’m sorry, i can leave,” she managed, looking down at the floor. you feel a little bad, figuring she was probably embarrassed. you sigh, “no, it’s okay,”

‘what the fuck are you doing?’

“you’re practicing into the new world, right?”

she nods.

“we can practice together.” you decide. her face lights up, eyes gleaming, but you instantly regret you words. normally, you prefer practicing alone and being the only person to see the process of fixing your flaws and improving. but going by her reaction she probably wouldn’t think to judge you on anything.

“really?” she asks and you nod, walking towards the speaker to turn the music back on. “come on.”

you and yizhuo spend the next few hours practicing (more like you spend most of the time practicing while she stands there watching, admiring your movements). you were a dancer long before you joined sm, so you ended up helping her with the choreography after seeing her struggle, giving her tips and pointers to help her improve. you thought it was cute how intensely she took in your every word, mentally taking note of every detail you told her.

since that day she insisted on sticking with you. as much as you internally protested, you didn’t do much to keep her away. how could you? she was, what, barely 14? and she was new to the industry. even though you were only a year older than her, you didn’t have the heart to leave her on her own.

the two of you grew close unexpectedly fast, practicing together whenever you didn’t have individual lessons, spending hours in the practice room sometimes not even doing anything, just sitting against the mirrors and having random conversations that ended with both of you in tears from laughing so hard. as time went on, it became relatively known around the company that the two of you were a duo, not one left without the other.

as much as you like yizhuo, or ningning as she would be called after being introduced as an sm rookie, you always curse yourself thinking back to your previous views on building relationships as a trainee. you still have that opinion, but even as the two of you grew up you can’t bring yourself to stay away from her. you don’t want to.

after about four years together, the time came for sm’s newest girl group to be officially formed. for the last few months the company played with lineup, adding and removing girls almost every few weeks. you and ningning were apart of the group of girls considered for the final lineup, along with yu jimin and kim minjeong.

after what felt like an eternity of uncertainty, the company finally announced who would be in the final lineup. many were sure that you would be included, being an sm rookie who ranked highly at monthly evaluations. you were confident too.

however, while you all were practicing, a staff member brought in another girl and asked you to come out. you recognized her as uchinaga aeri, who only joined the company a few months ago. you looked around skeptically, but followed the staff member out of the room and into the hallway.

honestly, you can’t really recall everything that was said to you. all you remember is something along the lines of your removal and the world falling silent. everything stopped in that moment and you wondered if you were dreaming. you didn’t want to believe it but the somber look on the staff’s face solidified it for you.

you didn’t make it.

that day, you left practice early. yizhuo, along with jimin, minjeong, and aeri had to stay later to practice for their debut. before you left, you stopped to give yizhuo a hug, reassuring and congratulating her. you could tell that she was having mixed emotions. she was happy to debut but she wanted to do it with you. though her face was buried into your shoulder, you heard her mutter a ‘i’ll see you later,’ before letting go.

she didn’t expect to see your side of the room empty when she came back to the dorms that night. all of your belongings; polaroids on the wall, your comforter that she preferred sleeping on more than her own, everything you had was gone. and you didn’t even tell her.

you joined source music about two years later, being added to their debut team almost instantly along with two former iz*one members, sakura and chaewon, and huh yunjin, who you recognized from produce 48 and swore you’ve seen around the sm building a few times. kazuha and eunchae joined not too long after you did, and at first you were a bit threatened by their addition. you feared that they were your replacements and that it’d only be a matter of time before you’d be cut from the group.

however, the six of you worked amazingly together, and after getting over the initial doubt, got along great. you all had that balance of being genuine friends and colleagues. you finally felt like things were going your way.

the success of le sserafim’s debut was massive, some mixed reviews about the title track, but the album sold well and you guys got a few music show wins, which you never would’ve imagined for your debut.

as time went on, your career only went up. you attended award shows, held concerts, had fans. you were living your dream, and although you never expected it to be with these girls, you were happy nonetheless.

you thought about ningning a lot. it was hard not to, now that you were an idol. le sserafim and aespa were always in the same conversation when it came to top 4th generation girl groups. you felt indifferent about it. you wanted to move on from the past, but you were also glad that both of you were able to achieve your dreams, even if it wasn’t together.

you don’t get many days off being in the prime of your career, which you’ve always expected. today though, as comeback promotions for unforgiven came to an end, you hoped to spend today laying in bed and watching netflix, allowing your body to reset from such a hectic schedule.

keyword: hoped.

the sound of your phone ringing makes you dramatically groan. silently hoping it wasn’t anyone important you glance at your phone to see an unsaved phone number. normally, you’re told not to answer calls from unknown numbers, the main reason being that it’ll most likely be a sasaeng. but you recognize this number, even though it isn’t saved in your phone.

“hello?”

“unnie.”

you’ve played a thousand different scenarios in your head, thinking of what to say in any situation where you would see yizhuo again. yet when that time finally came, all of your hypotheticals went completely out the window. you didn’t think her calling you would be that first interaction in three years.

“how’d you get my number?” is what you decide to say. you changed your number after leaving sm, but you still remembered hers.

“minjeong unnie gave it to me,” she answered. you internally curse, figuring she got your number from chaewon. it’s not like you’re mad or upset that she called, you just weren’t expecting it nor were you prepared for it.

“can you come over to the dorms? i wanna talk to you.” yizhuo asks.

“we’re talking right now,” you play dumb. again, you’re not prepared for this.

“i mean in person, unnie.”

you think about giving her the excuse of being busy, you should give her that excuse. but you don’t know when you’ll both be free to talk again. you want to take that opportunity.

“okay,” you decide.

your arrival to aespa’s dorm surprises all of the members. jimin, who answers the door, instantly wraps you in a hug and aeri and minjeong, who were sitting on the couch jump up to do the same the moment they see you.

you tell them that yizhuo invited you over and jimin lets you know that she’s in their room. you thank her and head over, giving the cracked door two light knocks before fully opening it.

you’ve seen her around and on tv this past year so it wasn’t like you really haven’t seen her in three years, but your breath still hitches when you lay eyes on her. when she sees you, she smiles widely. it reminds you of when you two were trainees.

“you came!”

you snorted, “did you think i wasn’t?” you gently close the door behind you before crossing your arms and slowly walking towards her bed where she was sitting.

“you could’ve,” she shrugs. “considering you left without telling me, you could’ve not come and not told me.”

you sigh and sit down next to her. “i’m sorry.”

that day, and the many days following, hurt. it hurt you to feel like you spent so much time working hard just to fail. you didn’t think it would hurt yizhuo nearly as much. you didn’t think about how much she missed you or how long she spent crying after realizing you had left.

the room falls silent, both of you unsure of what else to say to each other. there’s a million things you two could talk about but neither of you do, afraid of rehashing more bad memories. instead you make yourself comfortable and lie back, resting you hand on your stomach. yizhuo does the same and the silence becomes comfortable, both of you cherishing this moment; being together again.

“i was in love with you, you know.” you decide to casually let out, hiding the nervousness in your voice. you’re scared of how she’ll respond. she could laugh in your face, or just straight up reject you, even though you weren’t exactly confessing, and make things awkward again.

but yizhuo does the opposite of what you were expecting.

“you were?” she suddenly sits up and locks eyes with you. you think she looks like a doll with her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. you take a moment to admire her while she takes that moment to fully comprehend what you said. her mouth closes and her eyes furrow at her realization. “was,” she repeats, tilting her head. “you’re not anymore?” her voice goes quiet, as if she’s scared to ask. maybe she was, but why?

“not really,” you glance at her before looking back towards the ceiling. you don’t want to see her reaction, though you can feel her entire body deject into the bed and hear her mumble a small ‘oh’.

“why not?”

“hm?”

“why don’t you love me anymore?”

“i don’t know if you noticed, yizhuo, but i’ve been avoiding you since you debuted. kinda hard to keep feelings for someone you don’t see anymore.” it seems harsh but you hope your light hearted tone doesn’t make it sound that way.

“you didn’t have to avoid me. i would still been your friend─”

“it wasn’t about you,” you interrupt, sighing before finally sitting up to fully face her. “i was pissed and jealous and seeing you on tv would’ve only made me hate you. i don’t want to hate you.”

even after you debuted in le sserafim you tried to avoid her, and all of aespa for that matter. it was nothing against the girls but you couldn’t help the bitterness that filled you when you thought about the fact that you didn’t make the lineup.

you figured she’d have more to say after you revealed the truth, but nothing came out of her mouth. you could only read the disappointment on her face.

“what, were you expecting something different?” you ask after a long period of uncomfortable silence.

“i was hoping you’d say that you still love me,” she reveals, opting to look at her hands placed in her lap rather than at you.

“why?” you already know the answer. you just want to hear her say it.

“because i loved you,” she pauses, “and i never stopped.”

oh.

you should’ve known that something like this would happen, and maybe you did. maybe there was a rational part of your brain screaming at you not to go see her and you just didn’t listen. maybe deep down you still loved her, but the fear of losing again repressed that love. yizhuo or your career? you don’t know. the idol industry is a twisted game where one small mistake could cost you your entire career and if you have to lose one, you figure that losing the chance of loving her is better than losing the career you both worked years for.

“i’m sorry, yizhuo.” you whisper. it’s all you can muster up to say. you tell yourself that it’s better this way. sure, she’s hurt now but she’ll get over it. just like you did, or at least pretended to.