#This butterfly is probably bigger than it should be

[nereiix]

A random angry Akal.

[gaydryad]

started Thinking TM about miraculous ladybug again. I can feel it. the desire to hyperfixate on this show is looming over me

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 24]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

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Words: 6.8k 🌶️

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It is by some birthday miracle Minnie has yet to run out of energy.

Usually, once she has her bath and changes into her pajamas, she starts to wind down, but today is a special, exciting day, so she just keeps on going. 

It probably does not help that as part of her massive birthday haul, she got a new onesie pajama that makes her look like an oversized mouse - including big ears and a long tail. As soon as you finished zipping her in and pulled the hood up, your daughter went absolutely feral. She started scampering around on all fours - pretending she was indeed her namesake.

That was ten minutes ago, and you don’t think she’ll stop anytime soon. Especially not with Matt encouraging her. 

You watch from your spot on the couch as Minnie scurries over to the dining table, crawling under one of the chairs to hide. In the kitchen, Matt is dramatically pretending to look around while he holds up the butterfly net that came with a toy bug hunting kit. 

“Here, mousey, mousey, mousey,” he calls out in a low voice, which only serves to send Minnie into a fit of giggles. “Here, mousey, mousey, mousey.”

You, of course, play along and muse out, “I don’t know Mister Exterminator, this mouse may be too smart. I don’t know if you’ll be able to catch her.”

“You’re right,” he says, straightening up and he turns to face you. He rests the net on his shoulder, then taps at his chin with the index finger of his opposite hand, “I think we are going to have to set a trap.”

“A trap?” you question. You appear to keep your full attention on Matt, but in reality, you are sneaking a picture. Mouse is crouched in her hiding spot, hands covering her mouth. It takes everything in you to not start laughing.

“A trap, my Queen. We’re going to need some cheese, a stick, and a bucket.”

“I’m bigger than a bucket!” Minnie suddenly protests before realizing she’s given away where she is and clamps her hands back over her mouth. Matt whips around and starts towards her, raising his net with a mock menace.

“Gotcha!”

Minnie tries to dash towards you and the couch, but Matt, gently and with amazing precision, brings the net down on her head. Your little one instantly collapses to the floor like she has no bones. She reaches towards you, and with a performance worthy of an Oscar, declares, “Tell Scooby I loves him!” before falling over. 

You do your part by gasping as Matt scoops up her limp little body. He brings her over to you, presenting her with a slight kneel, “The Mouse Princess has been slain, my Queen.”

Minnie is trying her best to keep her eyes squeezed shut and suppress her giggles, so to make it even harder, you take on a blasé attitude, “Oh, how very sad. Now she can’t come to the super-secret dance party.”

Little eyes pop open and Matt sets her on her feet as she squirms back to life, “I wanna go to the super...super secret dance party!”

The Dance Party is your scheme to get the last of Minnie’s energy out. You do not want her to stay up too late past her bedtime, or she is going to be grumpy tomorrow. No one wants a grumpy toddler at the zoo. 

“You want to go to the super secret dance party?” Matt confirms, a large grin starting to form on his lips, and Minnie nods so hard her eared hood falls off. 

You go to fix it, fluffing the ears so they properly stand up, “What song should we play first, Mouse Princess?”

This is a hard decision, and as she thinks over her options, Mouse sticks her fingers into her mouth. This is a behavior you are beginning to think you should address, but you want to do more research and consult with Matt as well. You have been wondering if it helps her focus - her own way of limiting out the various inputs she must be constantly receiving. You think that maybe having her hand in her mouth helps to mask other smells, because you have noticed she doesn’t actually suck on them - they just are inserted - and it's something she does when she’s thinking.

Or it may be that she's a toddler and likes the taste of her fingers and you are once again overthinking everything. 

“R-B-S-T!” Minnie finally declares, throwing her hands up in the air. Matt looks absolutely baffled by the decision, but luckily, you speak Minnie, and know exactly what she wants. You grab your phone, open up your music app, and go to your daughter’s playlist to select the requested song. 

You get up as Aretha Franklin begins on the speakers.

This is one of Minnie’s favorite songs to sing and dance to, and yours as well. You have listened to it so many times you almost have little routine together. You begin to shimmy your shoulders at your daughter as she does the same to you, leaning forward and singing in sync.

“What you want. Baby, I got it! What you need, you know I got it!”

Matt lights up and it takes him less than a beat to jump into bopping along. It is one of those songs you think everyone knows the lyrics to, so you aren’t surprised when he joins in singing at Minnie. You quickly become a dancing circle, grooving together. Minnie stumbles over some words but her toddler heart is completely in it. She belts out the song, the biggest smile on her face as you mime some of what is being said.  

You continue to dance as the song changes to one that filled your childhood. You carefully curated the playlist to be free of any Disney Sing-a-longs or other toddler centric jams - these are strictly songs you actually enjoy that are safe for Minnie to listen to. You picked one-hit wonders and things that tend to fill the radio airwaves on a Friday night. 

The song is popular enough that Matt seems to know some of the words - or he is shamelessly making them up. You aren’t going to fact check him. You are too caught up in watching him dance - he’s completely thrown himself into it. He even has a little bounce in his step. 

His t-shirt is tight around his chest and when he raises his arms, his shirt rides up, showing off a belt of skin above his pajama pants. You can see the band of his boxers - a brand you aren’t aware of - and it makes your skin warm. You know you should not stare, but it is hard not to.

Especially when he does a spin.

Your eyes drop down to his behind and you feel like an absolute pervert ogling him. How does he manage to choose clothes that emphasize how wonderfully fit he is while still looking so casual? 

You tear yourself away from his perfect physique and try to enjoy the playtime with your daughter. You need to wear her out, which means you need to be more enthusiastic with your dancing.

You have found a strange upside to Matt being Blind and that is you are more comfortable acting a bit of a fool around him. He isn’t going to stop and stare at you for doing something silly for Minnie and the idea that he can’t perceive you in that way is doing wonders for your anxiety. You are very much aware that he knows what you are doing because of those amazing senses of his but you don’t feel judged in the way you do if you know someone is seeing you. It is probably Ableist in some way, but you like being able to relax more around him. 

You don’t need to hide who you are or pretend to be someone you are not. 

You begin to move your hips, swirling them as you throw your hands up into the air. You get a full body motion going, quickly adding in a few twirls. 

Mouse is quick to copy you, arms up, spinning, and rocking side to side. You slowly add in some arm pumps to get her little muscles really going. Matt seems to catch on to what you are trying to do, as he starts to add in some leg kicks to his dances, which Minnie instantly incorporates into her movements. Soon enough, she looks like she’s either in a mini mosh pit or - since she’s in a mouse costume - she’s a tiny kaiju trying to ravage an invisible town. 

You go through two more pop chart toppers before Minnie shows any signs of slowing down. As soon as you sense that her enthusiasm is dipping, you move onto step two of your devious plan.

“Do you want to dance with Daddy?”

The answer is obviously a yes. 

The Mouse Princess gets scooped up and set on Matt’s hip and he takes one of her small hands in his so he can guide her around in a dance. You let them have one bopping dance, where it is all energy and Minnie shimming like crazy before you sneakily switch the playlist. 

The next song has a beat to dance to, but it is nothing like the previous ones. Matt gradually slows so he is rocking in place, pretending to slow dance with his daughter. 

You stop at that point and stay on your phone, holding it up to record him mouthing the words to ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ while Minnie slowly starts to sink against his shoulder. You can’t help but sway to the music, a soft smile spreading across your face. 

You never thought you would get this - not just seeing Minnie’s father being so absolutely sweet with her, but having a family where these sorts of moments can happen. You didn’t think this was the type of life you would get to live. 

Instead of indifference, you are surrounded by love. It may not be love for you, but you get to soak it all in and enjoy how your daughter is absolutely spoiled. Matt is so clearly head over heels for her, wrapped around her little finger more than you are, and it seems like he is dragging his entire network along with him. 

His friends went hog wild in terms of getting gifts for your little toddler. Not only did Foggy give her the pogo stick, but she got all sorts of stickers from him and coloring books - and his Mom - who you really need to meet at this point - sent home baked cookies and Scooby Doo themed puzzles. Karen was not to be outdone, though, as she and Frank went the doll route. They entered your apartment with a two-story wooden Victorian style dollhouse that the Punisher apparently refurbished. They had full Princess themed furnishing to go with it and you can only imagine that poor Karen is going to be getting doll ads for months.

Sister Maggie sent along more practical things - some learning to read books. To your great surprise, all of the simple stories come with print lettering and Braille, and Minnie now also has a big letter board that has the same. You want her to learn the language and now she and Matt can read bedtime stories together. 

You still have trouble comprehending that all these people are in your daughter’s life now. It so effortlessly went from being just the two of you to an extended Family. 

And even Minnie is understanding that. 

While Foggy is Froggy and Sister Maggie is Daddy’s Mommy, Miss Karen has been officially upgraded to Auntie Karen. You do not know what triggered the change in title, but she was lording it over Foggy and Frank like it was a status symbol. 

You have promised to take so many pictures to send to them while you are at the zoo and the sheer idea that other people want the photos makes you giddy. You know you are going to end up printing some out to frame. You want to send something to Sister Maggie and you just know Matt will want one - or fifteen - for his desk. 

You are dragged from your thoughts when Minnie finally, finally yawns. 

You stop the music before it can go onto the next crooner and step towards your favorite pair, “Are you getting sleepy, baby?”

She nods against Matt’s shoulder before turning her head so she can use him as a pillow.

“Okay, let's get you into bed,” you coo. Luckily, she does not protest - she is completely petered out and you are not sure if she’ll even make it to the bed before she's in a deep sleep. 

The Dance Party was a complete success, and you decide it will be something to keep in your back pocket when Mouse is too active at night.

You follow Matt as he carries Minnie to the bedroom. He is still just barely swaying her in his arms still, tempting her closer and closer to Dreamland. 

You slip around him to get into the room first so you can make sure the sheets and covers are turned down. As the dead weight that is your daughter is slipped into bed, you turn on the air conditioner, so the room gets nice and cold. By the time you get back to Mouse’s side, Matt has gotten her sleep headband on and secured, and you can't tell if she's awake or not.

Apparently, she is still somewhat conscious, because Matt asks in the softest and sweetest voice, “Did you have a good birthday, my love?”

Minnie’s lips barely move as she mumbles out an, “uh-huh.”

“I'm glad. Mommy and Daddy love you very much. Sweet dreams, my little angel.”

He gives her a kiss to the cheek, then steps aside so that you can do the same. As you pull back, she weakly smacks her lips together and breathes out, “Luff.”

Your heart grows three sizes, and you truly feel like the Grinch when you have to pull Matt from the room. You know, if he could, he would stand there all night, standing dutifully by her side as she slept.

But Mouse Princess Minnie needs her rest, and you need help cleaning up the aftermath of the party. 

The dining table is covered in various arts and crafts projects. Minnie had practically run a little sweat shop with how she had multiple adults sat and focused on painting and building things with popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. Luckily, everything is dry now and can be moved. You have a scrapbook you are going to put some pieces in, and others are going to be hung up around the apartment. 

You want to keep everything Minnie makes - you have no relics from your childhood, and you don't want that for her. You want to sit down with her when she's an adult and laugh together about how cute she was. 

As you start to clear the table, Matt begins to walk around the room, picking up any lingering trash. You've been good at cleaning throughout the day and not letting things sit, but you still had things like empty birthday bags and toy boxes out. You can see him snapping out of the corner of your eyes as he gathers things, and it makes you smile. You are always fascinated about how he navigates the world and using echolocation to clean isn’t something you would have thought possible.

“I didn't picture you as the dancing type,” he teases across the room as you sort arts and crafts.

“Oh, I am not,” is your instant reply and you can’t help but screw up your face at the idea of you being a dancer.

“Really? You seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Definitely not,” you insist. You feel yourself start to flush as Matt chuckles behind you.

“I think you are selling yourself short. I bet there were more eyes on you than you realized when you went dancing.” You know he is being sweet and trying to boost your ego, but you’ve never been out dancing. You didn’t even go to your prom. In fact, the last time you danced with someone who wasn’t Minnie was in middle school, at one of the in-school dance events.

That isn’t something you really want to admit, so you go with, “I don’t really go out dancing.” 

He gives the faintest of sighs from the living room, so you decide to try and humor him and add, “I don’t think I’d enjoy a club, but I always thought learning ballroom would be fun. Less people and..you know,” you motion up and for some reason twirl your hand, “less bass.”

“That does seem more your style,” he replies, and you heat up even more. You know he can’t see you, but you duck your head to try and hide how you must be blushing.

As always, when you feel yourself start to get flustered, your brain takes a backseat to your mouth. You muse out, “I always wanted to learn to slow dance.”

You instantly start to mentally berate yourself. You sound like a complete idiot - as far as you know there is no method to slow dancing beyond swaying. You equate things like waltzing and other partner dances with slow dancing - even though the terminology isn’t right.

“You’ve never slow danced?” 

He sounds surprised and you want to smother yourself with the artwork in your hands. You are digging a hole of pathetic-ness and you need to abandon this topic of conversation before Matt realizes how lame you truly are. To do this, you tell him, “I told you I’m not the dancing type.” 

Matt doesn’t respond, so you think you are in the clear. You don’t dare look over at him, instead keeping your focus on Minnie’s painting of Max you’ve just picked up. Her drawings are getting more and more defined - you can actually tell this is meant to be a dog as opposed to her usual circle-based creatures. You are so proud of her, and you can’t wait until she’s more comfortable with writing. You think her toddler handwriting is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Siri,” Matt suddenly says from right behind you, making you start with fright and drop the painting back to the table, “play ‘At Last’ by Etta James.”

You whirl around to find Matt impossibly close, holding his phone up to speak into it. You quickly start to shake your head, just barely chanting, “no, no, no, no,” at him.

“Getting that from your Music Playlist,” the phone traitorously replies before the song starts to play.  Matt reaches past you to set his phone down on the table, then that same hand goes to your waist.

You try to protest by saying his name, but he cuts you off, “Humor me.”

Your anxiety can’t fight that as much as you want to, so you very reluctantly let him pull you away from the table and towards the emptier area of the kitchen. You cannot look at him as he guides you into position - you can only stare at your feet and pray for the internet to cut out and turn off the music. 

But of course, that doesn’t happen. 

Matt slowly begins to sway, and you force yourself to awkwardly follow along. He must know how uncomfortable you are, as the thumb that is on your hip starts to rub in slow circles and he starts talking in a soft voice, “they never played a lot of music at St. Agnes’, but Father Lantom used to have a radio in his office. He’d have it going after hours, when he was doing paperwork or working on sermons. I would focus on it to help me sleep - they’d always play the same things over and over and it became like white noise to help dampen everything else. He used to hum along with this one.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to him and not the lyrics to the song. You don’t think you’ve heard him refer to this person before, but you are guessing this is the man who ran the Church Matt grew up in. 

“It’s a good song,” you mumble, trying your best to engage with him instead of being overwhelmed. 

“It is,” he agrees. He steps a breath closer to you then oh so gently, just barely touches his forehead to yours. All of your embarrassment evaporates, and you are very hyper aware of everywhere you and Matt are touching. Your throat tightens a fraction, and your heart begins to pound so loudly it drowns out the music. 

You want to apologize because you know Matt must be able to hear your heart becoming a drum and it must be annoying, but all you can do is sway in his arms. 

You feel his breath on your cheek when he asks in a whisper, “is this okay?” and you can’t do anything more than get your head to nod up and down once. His response, for some unknown reason, is to give a pleased hum. The noise is like lightning down your spine, making you shiver against him and instead of letting you go like you would expect, he becomes even closer. 

Your reaction is to curl your fingers tighter around him and you don’t understand why. Part of you wants to run and hide under your covers and never speak of this moment again, but another wants to stay like this forever, because despite your panic, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

To be held?

Even if it is a ruse. 

Matt is taking pity on you and dancing with you as a bit of a tease, but he’s not being cruel. You told him you don’t dance, so of course he wants to dance. You’ve seen the interaction in film and television plenty of times - Matt is a good man and wants you to have fun.

And you are, aren’t you? 

You’re having fun.

You had a wonderful day filled with laughter and joy, and now it is ending in a sweet moment. 

You can let yourself enjoy this. 

Matt breathes your name against your cheek and the lightning feeling is back, “you’re overthinking again.”

“I’m trying not to,” you promise him, because you truly are trying to tamper down your thoughts. It is just hard not to when your mind won’t stop spinning. 

“Do you want this?” he asks after a moment and you have no idea what he means, but honestly it doesn’t matter. Every fiber of your being screams the same thing as soon as the words leave him.

“Yes.”

The world comes to a sudden halt as Matthew Murdock’s lips press against yours. 

They are soft and warm and as sweet as you remember them being. They are hesitant, almost delicate, as they move against yours. A gentle hand comes up and cups your cheek and it snaps you back into reality. 

The dam inside you breaks and you do not think - you only act.

Your hands launch up to tangle into his short hair and you kiss Matt back with a hunger you did not know you had.

His reaction is instantaneous - within a moment you are backed against a countertop, and he is practically devouring you. He is groaning low in his throat, sounding almost animalistic, and the hand that was on your hip is now on the small on your back, keeping you pressed firmly against him. Gone is the sweet, innocent moment - you need him in a biblical way, and you think he feels the same. 

To your own surprise, it is you who pushes things further, biting at his lower lip. He opens himself easily for you and you reward this by licking into his mouth. 

He may have you pinned to the counter, but you do not feel trapped. You know if you showed any doubt about what was happening or indicated you wanted to stop - consciously or unconsciously - Matt would be across the room in a second. 

You don’t need to be scared with him - you know that now - and that only fuels your fire.

You need to be touched.

You need to be held. 

You need Matt to fuck you stupid.

And by the bulge starting to press into your hip, you think he is more than happy to do just that. 

Matt breaks the kiss, only to move his mouth down to your neck. He drags his tongue and teeth over the sensitive skin there causing obscene little noises to come out of you.

“Sound so good,” he growls into your throat and all sorts of heady reactions course through you. “Smell so fucking good. Drives me crazy.” He emphasizes his point by burying his nose into your pulse point before biting down. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you whimper out his name, but he isn’t done with his praise yet, continuing on between lapping at your skin, “Sit there so innocent and sweet, not knowing I want to bury my face between your legs. Can’t think when you get all flustered. Want my tongue on you at all times.”

His words wash over you, but you can’t contextualize what he is Actually saying. All you can hear is his current need and desire and you want his tongue on you as well. You know how well he can use it and your body craves him.

You don’t know how to tell him what you want beyond hiking your leg up to wrap around him and pressing your hips forward with a needy, “Please, Matt.”

It seems that is all he needs you to say. 

Like you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and sets you on the counter. You lean back to push your sleeping shorts and panties down and he is there to help, practically tearing them off your legs and sending them across the kitchen. As soon as that barrier is gone, Matt wastes not one second - he drops to his knees between your legs and drags you forward by your hips, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. 

Any shame you may have is gone the moment he drags his nose from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit and only then do you realize how absolutely soaked you are. 

He starts to mumble something under his breath, but you can’t hear him over how heavy you are breathing. The hot puffs of air against you are the worst type of tease and already making your muscles quake. To keep yourself from slipping, you place one hand on the counter, then use the other to grab onto Matt’s hair. You must grab too hard as he shudders under your fingers, but he keeps up his soft words.

He’s so close and you haven’t been touched in so so long that you cannot take this. 

“Matt, please,” you beg and again he shakes under your hand. 

“Amen,” you just barely hear before his voice raises just enough to be actually audible, “Don’t worry, my darling, I’ll take care of you, now.”

You nearly lose it when he finally puts his mouth on you. You are already worked up and so sensitive, that a few flicks of his tongue has you mewling. That only serves to encourage him, and he buries himself deeper into your core, moaning shamelessly like he is the one being pleasured. You grip tightly onto his hair to try to keep some composure, but you are already right on the edge. 

Your hips start to twitch, and your abdomen starts to tighten before you realize it. Your head rolls back as you start to chant Matt’s name in a pant, begging him to chase your incoming orgasm. 

He, of course, happily obeys. 

It is not mind shattering, but it has you rocking forward to curl around Matt’s head, your other hand coming around to claw at his shoulders as you come. He keeps his tongue working until your thighs stop quaking, then he pulls back. He grins up at you like he’s a kid in the lewdest candy store - his mouth and chin and glistening with your juices and it’s clear he couldn’t be prouder of himself.

“One,” he purrs out and you start to laugh a little from how cute he is in your giddy state. You remember in your night together all those years ago, he had also counted your orgasms. It didn’t come off as smug then and it definitely doesn’t now.

He effortlessly raises up to his feet and you let your legs fall from his shoulders to wrap around his waist instead. His hands glide down from your hips to your thighs before he tugs you forward so he's holding you up. He slowly starts to back away from the kitchen and you secure your hold on his shoulders, so you don’t slip as he carries you.

You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him. Your slick tastes tart on his lips, but you don’t care - especially when you can feel him melting into your touch. You keep things slow and languid as he brings you to the couch. You pull away as he gently lays you down, but not fully. Your hands drop to his stomach, and you tug at his shirt, “Off.”

“Yes, My Queen.”

He fluidly pulls it off before crawling over you and boxing your head in with his large arms. You loop yours around his neck again as he dips to kiss you again. 

The feral need inside of you has been temporarily satiated, so you can enjoy this slower exploration. Your hands smooth over his neck and back and you cannot believe how muscular he is. His suits do a good job to keep him looking lean so that you often forget how much raw power he holds. You feel like you could get lost in just touching him - tracing along his skin to feel each little freckle and scar. 

It seems like he could do the same for you. While keeping one arm down to keep himself held up over you, the other makes its way between you. His hand pushes up under your oversized t-shirt and up to your ribs. You aren’t very ticklish, but you still shudder and arch at his touch. He easily finds your breast and massages it a few times before pinching at your nipple. 

You gasp into his mouth, and as he begins to tweak and play with it, you have to turn your head away because you can’t keep up with his kissing.

“So sensitive,” he teases in a whisper. He nips at your ear before starting to make his way down your neck again. 

“Feels good,” you reply, trying to not whine, but you are pretty sure you fail. 

Matt hums in response before scooting down your body. You hook your legs around his waist as he pushes your shirt up to reveal your breasts, then watch as he bends to take one in his mouth. You close your eyes as he begins to suckle and pleasure washes through you. 

You bring a hand up to scratch lightly at the base of his skull as he starts to worship your chest. He is sure to make sure your other nipple isn’t neglected, pinching and flicking at it in time with his tongue. It doesn’t take long for your core to start pulsing and gushing again, but Matt stays focused on his task. He starts to alternate which breast gets the attention of his mouth versus his hand and soon enough you are thinking you can cum again just from this. 

You start to squirm and pant under him, but it is when you rock your hips into him that he changes course. 

You feel him move and adjust, but you don’t know how, as he never neglects you for a second. Once he is how he needs to be, the hand not already preoccupied slips between the two of you. He runs one finger over your slit, pushing between your labia to coat himself in you. You can’t help but moan at the teasing. 

But he doesn’t do it long - as soon as he’s slick, he pushes into you. 

His finger is thick, and the stretch feels perfect - it isn’t too much, but a little more might be too uncomfortable. He starts to pump his finger in time with his tongue and all you can do is lay there and take it. You are on the edge of being overwhelmed, but right in the state of bliss.

Praise starts to tumble from your mouth this time, as you keep up scratching at his neck and shoulders. 

“Feels so good. Already so close. Please, Matt. Need you.” 

Before you even realize you are ready for it, he pushes a second finger into you, and you are nearly seeing stars. You know his cock is big and you need the stretching, especially after so long, but part of you just wants him in you now. He’s always so sweet and he’s not going to hurt you in that way, so you know he’s going to make sure you are ready before fucking you. 

But you are still going to be needy about it. 

You start to roll your hips, wanting more and more and more. It takes you a few tries to match his pace, but once you do, the buildup is quick. You can feel it in your thighs first, tingling and spasming as your release gets closer. 

Matt releases your nipple from his mouth long enough to encourage you, “Cum for me, darling. Cum on my fingers.” 

He crooks his fingers as he latches back onto you and you white out. You shake and curl as your orgasm rocks you and Matt doesn’t let up at all. His fingers pump and work your way through it until you cannot take any more stimulus and you have to try and crawl away. He takes pity on you and pulls back and slides his fingers out. 

They instantly go into his mouth, and he licks them clean in the most obscene way possible. You watch him through half lidded eyes, admiring everything about his physique. 

Only once he’s finished his task do you reach for him. Your fingers skate from his chest down his abs until you can grab his boxers and pajama pants. You tug them down enough to free his cock and it is a thing of beauty. It’s thick with a slight curve and one pulsing vein running along it. The head is swollen and red and leaking pre-cum like a faucet. You wrap your fingers around the base and slowly stroke up. Matt’s head rolls back, his lips parting just slightly, and he looks like he is in absolute heaven. 

“Didn’t get to taste you last time,” you tease, and you are practically salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. You want to return all the pleasure he's given you. He needs to be the one to lay back and enjoy your mouth on him.

He groans before rolling forward, so he is hovering over you again. “There will be time for that later, can’t wait for you any longer,” he says in a low voice, and despite his eyes not functioning as they should, you can see the hunger in them. 

You more than understand that and lean up to meet him in a kiss. Your hand is still wrapped around him, so you give a few pumps to smear his pre-cum, and as you do, he quietly swears.

“I don’t have a condom.”

The words hit you hard and your eager and horny mind of course throws out the first thing you think, “You already got me pregnant once with one.”

Matt’s nose flares at that and his cock twitches hard in your hand. He swallows thickly before asking, “Are you clean?”

“I am,” you promise. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. Are you?” He gives a jerky nod and when he does, you rub your thumb over his head, teasing the slit, “then I’m okay without one.”

He surges forward to crash into your lips, and you release your hold on him so that he can position himself. You tangle your fingers into his hair again, and to test a little theory, tug at it. He all but moans into your mouth and you can’t help but ask, “Do you like that?” 

“Yes,” is his instant reply. It’s his turn to tease when he rubs his cock over your needy cunt. “Bite me, scratch me, do anything you want to me. I’m yours.”

Then he pushes into you and all the thoughts and ideas in your head turn to dust. 

Even stretched out, there is still a slight burn, but it feels so wonderful. He starts with slow, shallow thrusts until he is fully inside you, only to settle for a moment. He noses down to your ear and nips at your lobe. He repeats, “I’m yours,” in a low growl before pulling out of you and slamming back in.

The pace he sets isn’t brutal, but it's clear he’s as eager and wanting as you. You drag him back into a kiss, biting at his lips as he gives you exactly what you want - what you need. One hand goes to your throat, wrapping around it but not squeezing. You respond by digging your nails into his shoulder. He hisses into your mouth, but you can tell he likes it by how he reacts.

His other hand grabs you by the hip and tilts your pelvis up so he can drive himself deeper into you. You gasp at the sudden change - his cock is hitting the perfect spot and with each stroke, you feel like you are going to lose your mind and Matt seems to know that. He begins to pepper bites and kisses along your shoulder, sending shocks of pleasure to your core with each one. 

Your anxiety is nowhere to be found, so there is nothing to hold you back from clawing at his shoulders and tugging at his hair. You guide him back to your neck, where his bites feel the best, and give breathy pleas. He digs his teeth into you as your third orgasm starts to build. 

The arm around his shoulder drops to the couch and you reach for the hand that is holding him up. He allows you to tangle your fingers together and you squeeze his hand as you clench your cunt around him. 

“I’m close,” you whimper, just as he starts to lap at your neck.

“Me too,” he pants in reply, “needed you so badly. Need you so badly.” He turns his head to press it hard against your shoulder, and asks the most ridiculous question you’ve ever heard, “do you want me to pull out?”

You shift so you can hook your leg around his waist and dig your heel into the small of his back in response while also tugging hard at his hair. 

“Fuck,” he moans into you, instantly starting to pick up his pace to the point the couch is starting to rock, “Yes, I won’t. Fuck.” He starts to chant your name in between swears and you try to use the leverage of your leg to rock your hips to meet his thrusts. 

You bite into his shoulder, so you do not cry out as your orgasm takes you by force. It feels like every muscle in your body tenses up and your hips twitch violently and euphoria rushes through you. Matt’s hips sputter once before he buries himself in you. 

You lose yourself for a few moments as you quite literally sink into bliss. Your leg relaxes around Matt, sliding down to keep around his thigh as you settle into the couch. He lets go of your hip to allow you to do that, but he follows you down, putting only some of his weight on you like a heavy, warm blanket. 

You lessen your grip on his hair so you can begin to give him light scritches and that makes him nuzzle into your neck with a pleased little noise. You return the noise, then use all the effort left in your body to turn your head to kiss his temple and squeeze his hand at the same time. 

“Stay like this,” you request. Your eyes are getting heavy, and you don’t fight to keep them open.

“Anything for you, My Queen,” he replies, sounding just as gone as you feel. You manage a chuckle and another kiss to his hairline.

“My sweet knight.”

You fall asleep under Matthew Murdock, your legs, hands, and hearts tangled together.  

---

a/n: :3C Next chapter is the zoo.

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[mystellenia]

romantic tension with abby

summary: in the warm glow of abby's bedroom, after a day of shared hobbies, you contemplate your deepening feelings for her and hope that perhaps she feels the same

content: friends (to lovers???), sfw, literally nothing else

notes: wrote a part two :p i need to write more fluff bc there is such a shortage AND especially with abby. this is like so domestic like in the way that there's no extra interactions. like this is literally how me and a friend would act after a day of painting!! just sleepy and tired zzzzz

(wc 0.7k)

the setting sun cast an orange glow on abby's bedroom where the two of you lay on her floor, bathing in the heat radiating from her large window. you'd just finished painting birdhouses for the married pair of sparrows that frequented the birdseed abby had set out. they would dance around each other and sing their chirpy harmonies and then take turns pecking at the various seeds from the feeder, so abby thought it necessary to handmake them houses in her shop. 

this was one of your many duet activities of abby's "grandma hobbies," as you called them. you two had fed the ducks down at the lake, gone through an entire coloring book, built lego sets, and done nearly a dozen puzzles—one of which was glued and framed in abby's kitchen. 

you guys spent every free moment of time together, and counted down the time until you could when one was busy. you were the closest of friends, but lately you found yourself wanting more—or at least thinking about how it would be if you were more. coming home to each other instead of making the fifteen-minute drive any time you wanted to see her. being able to actually tell her when she looked so pretty it made you hold your breath instead of chewing on your lip. 

she shifted next to you, bending her legs at the knees and pulling you out of your thoughts. "i should probably wash the brushes before the paint dries on them, right?" 

you almost tell her she shouldn't so that you could lay with her a little while longer, but you give in. "yeah, you should." 

she sits up to stand, grunting as she lifts her body weight and moving to the crafting cloth where your birdhouses currently sat drying. you sat up and leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she so delicately readjusts the cloth so that it doesn't smudge your paint job. 

scrubbing your hands down your face, you push up off the bed and move to grab a sweatshirt of hers to change into, taking your paint-covered tank off and slipping the sweatshirt over your head. it sat baggy on your body with her being bigger than you are just about everywhere, and you threw the hood over your head and dropped onto the right side of her bed. 

she returns with her hands patting on her sweats to dry them off. seeing you in the bed, she comes to sit next to you, with you on your back and her laying on her side to face you. 

"you wanna just stay the night?" she says, her voice lifting at the end as if it were a question and not a declaration. "it's too late to go home alone." 

"yeah, i think i will," you respond. you remember the origami book she bought at the farmer's market last saturday. "only if we make paper cranes until our fingers bleed from paper cuts tomorrow," you grin, turning to look at her and see she's already looking back at you. 

"okay. i have lots of band-aids," she jokes. 

you chuckle, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, sheepishly smiling at the other while holding eye contact. 

"can we also get those berry pastries from the cafe? and make those butterflies we saw on pinterest?" you ask, your cheeks still kissing your eyes. 

"yeah, i'll wake up early to get them for breakfast," she nods. "and i only got that book so we can make things together—we can make whatever you want." 

in place of a response, you slip your fingers between hers and tightly squeeze her hand, ignoring your frustration with the uncertainty of her feelings for you. 

the tip of her nose pinks a bit before she opens her mouth. "good night. we need brain power for making cranes." 

you turn onto your side as well to face her, your noses nearly touching. "good night, abby," you grin, high on the feel of her skin on yours and the way she's looking at you.  

you fall asleep with a smile on your face because your close friend, abby, may just like you, too. 

@picklesarenice69 @abbyandersonsrightbuttcheek

yayyy i’m back :3

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[farfromharry]

new year, new man 🏎️ ln4

Summary: you meet Lando for the first time after being dragged to a new year’s eve party. safe to say you didn’t hate this new year as much as the rest.

W/c - 1485

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You were far from a fan of celebrating the new year. It wasn’t much of a holiday for you, rather than a period of a couple days that made you sad. You spent too long focusing on how it felt like time was moving too fast and you were getting old and by the time midnight arrived you’d successfully brought down everyone else’s moods.

For that very reason you were planning to stay home and mope in your room to greet 2024. But it seemed your friends had other plans.

“I don’t want to go to a party,” you huffed.

The brunette at the end of your bed rolled her eyes. “And I told you, I don’t care what you want, you’re going.” She tossed a dress at you and stood there expectantly.

From out in the hallway you could hear one of your other friends calling for you. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun.”

You knew there was nothing you could do. They wouldn’t leave unless it was with you following behind them. Part of you was warmed by the fact they wanted you around, but another part of you was irritated that they couldn’t just let you be in your misery. You wished you would have been more stubborn.

An hour or so later and you were stepping into a complete stranger’s home where a party was in full swing.

A drink was quickly passed into your hands and within minutes you were left alone sitting in a quiet corner. Your friends had failed to let you know that this party was being hosted by a friend of theirs, with some of their other mutual friends in attendance. Maybe you would have put up a bigger fight if you’d have known you wouldn’t know anyone here and yet they would know everyone.

It was awkward, you standing there, drink in hand and eyes darting around the place at all the strangers. You must have looked so out of place.

“Do you mind if I join you?” A voice startled you out of your daydream. You were getting ready to turn them away when you locked eyes with one of the most attractive men you swore you’d ever seen. Your heart began to beat a little faster. “All the other seats are taken by couples basically swallowing each other. Figured this is the least awkward place to sit.”

You managed to laugh, like a real laugh. You were surprised that a random guy had managed to make you feel even slightly happy for the first time tonight.

“No, you’re fine. I sat here to get away too.”

It was silent for a brief moment and you cursed yourself for being so antisocial.

“Not enjoying the party?” he asked.

You perked up at the chance to talk to him again. “Uh, not really. Unless it’s your party, then it’s great. I’m having so much fun.”

He chuckled. “It’s not my party. Friend of a friend. I don’t really know anyone here.”

There were butterflies in your stomach. Could this man get any better? “Me either.”

He seemed pleased by that, like he’d needed to know he wasn’t alone in feeling awkward and uncomfortable in order for it to dissipate. “Well now you know me.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Lando.”

You smiled. “Y/N.”

The pair of you were only talking for a short while when he was approached by a clearly drunk man. “Lando Norris!” Was all he said, rather cheerfully, shaking hands with the man beside you. Lando smiled, nodding to the stranger before he left.

You watched the interaction with a furrowed brow.

“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone here?”

He looked at you with a shy grin. “I don’t. I have no idea who that was.”

The revelation made you laugh, louder than it probably should have, but you would blame the alcohol for that one. He quickly joined in, the 2 of you trading giggles in a secluded corner as everyone partied around you.

When your laughter died down and you wiped a few stray tears, you took a long look at Lando. “I’m actually really glad I came tonight.”

He took that to mean you were happy to have met and spent your time with him. “Me too. Maybe we could do this again sometime, but in an environment we both like. Somewhere quiet, like dinner?”

“I think I’d like that.”

Going into the new year it looked as though you’d be getting a shot at love, or at the very least a nice, new friendship. Maybe new year did bring good things sometimes.

As you noticed the minutes ticking closer to midnight and the party getting rowdier, you ached to convince Lando to move somewhere that wasn’t right in the middle of the busy crowd. You were unsure if he would, given that the atmosphere would change so drastically, but what was the harm in asking.

He looked at you as you stood from your seat, worried that you might be about to present him with an excuse to leave early.

“Come with me,” you instructed, holding your hand out for him to take. He eyed it, feigning hesitance.

He hummed. “I don’t know. My mum’s always telling me about stranger danger.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.”

Lando didn’t waste another second, slipping his hand into yours and allowing you to blindly lead him through the maze of people. He didn’t expect you to take him outside into the garden where it was much quieter. There was no one out here but the 2 of you and a couple stray drunk people.

“Much better,” you sighed. “I finally feel like I can hear myself think.”

As the moonlight fell upon you he believed you looked even more beautiful than you had inside. He was slightly in awe. His daze was momentarily broken when he noticed you shiver, the cold chill of the December air being unforgiving to your bare skin. There was only one thing that would be right for him to do as the gentleman his mother raised.

“Here, take my jacket.”

Your mouth opened to protest but the stern look he gave you told you he wasn’t willing to hear any of it. So instead you let him place it over your shoulders, his warmth and scent immediately making your body heat up to a comfortable temperature.

“Thank you.”

He brushed it off. “Not a problem.”

Now that there was no overly loud background chatter from those inside, a lull in conversation meant things got awkward, fast. Or at least on your part. You weren’t sure what you could say now and that led you to a panic about whether he was thinking about how silent you were being.

In reality, he was working up the courage to ask if he could kiss you. In the end it was the lack of time to deliberate that led him to just blurting it out.

He was afraid you’d be mad, considering you hadn’t met that long ago, but actually you were just happy he’d pulled you out of your nervous thoughts— even if his question gave you nerves for a whole different reason.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I could kiss you at midnight?”

You pretended to think it over, taking a step closer to him so that your fronts were pressed together. His eyes were rapidly looking over your features. Between your eyes and your lips, like he couldn’t make his mind up about where he wanted to focus. In the end he settled for your eyes.

“I might be persuaded.”

And then the countdown began.

As the clock struck midnight Lando made his move and closed the gap between the 2 of you. His large hand on your jaw was more or less guiding you through the sweet kiss, a gesture which made your knees even weaker than they already had been.

The cheers of the party inside were what brought the 2 of you back to the present.

Your face burned as you eyed the crowd, wondering if any of your friends had noticed you sneaking off with the handsome stranger to steal a kiss. You hoped they didn’t, because truly you wouldn’t be able to escape the mountain of questions they’d have for you.

He must have noticed you were slightly distracted, taking the initiative to gently guide your gaze back to him. The corner of his mouth curved upwards when your eyes met.

“Happy new year,” he mumbled, brushing his nose lightly across yours. It was a tender move for a man you’d met only a short hour ago.

You beamed, maybe you’d get the chance to know him a little more this year. “Happy new year.”

It looked like 2024 was already going to be a good year.

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[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 9

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: evan picks you up and takes you to homecoming, being very excited for you to wear his jersey. while you know nothing about football, you make sure to cheer him on, leading to a bit of teasing from evan’s teammates.

word count: 4.0k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: so after i wrote this i decided to make them students at USC, and after googling their stadium i realized it was way bigger than how i wrote it, so lots of this is barely believable if you’re actually familiar with american college football and their stadiums/crowds/etc (i think? i’m not american). this is so main character coded and also is probably not accurate to real homecomings at all but i don’t care!! just ignore it<3 by the way, the touchdown conversation is also based on my very real (and very awkward) conversation i had with a man (i call it fucking idiot rizz)😔 im so sorry to put you through it rn. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: reader knows nothing about football (affectionate), evan playing football (hot), no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

At 6:00, a knock on the door interrupts your pacing. You can’t help being nervous, thinking about watching a game you don’t know any of the rules for, about going to an afterparty with a bunch of rowdy football players, about everyone seeing you with Evan’s name on your back. As much as it makes butterflies swarm in your belly, a part of you is nervous about the attention it might bring you.

You open the door and are faced with Evan, a wide grin on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes trail down your body, noticing your short jean shorts showing off your thick thighs, and your white oversized crop top hanging off your shoulder slightly, showing off a sliver of your soft tummy and cleavage.

“Hi.” you greet him softly, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind you, holding eye contact with him.

“Hey princess, you look good.” he tells you, his hand going to the back of your neck to pull you in for a chaste kiss. You hum softly as his lips meet yours, leaning into him..

“Thank you,” you mumble against his lips. You pull back as he does, and look down, rubbing your hands down your jeans to calm your nerves. “We should go. Don’t wanna be late.” you try to change the subject, grabbing his hand to pull him down the hall. As many times as he’s complimented you in the past few weeks, it still makes your stomach flip and your face to get hot, not being used to all the attention.

“Hey, hold on. I’ve got something for you.” he tells you, a smirk growing on his face as he catches onto your nerves. He pulls you back by the hand, putting his hands on your waist and turning you to face him. You put your hands on his chest to steady yourself as he spins you around, a short laugh escaping your throat as you look up at him.

He holds his jersey up close to your face with one hand, his smirk growing as you reach your hand out to grab it.

“Uh uh. I wanna put it on you myself.” he teases, fingers nudging the underside of your arms, urging you to raise them.

You oblige, shaking your head with a smile, eyes focused on him as he lowers it over your head. He slides it over your body, biting his lip as he takes in the sight. It’s slightly oversized on you, as it has to be quite large to fit over him and all of his gear. It comes down to rest just below the edge of your short shorts, making it look like you’re not wearing pants, which causes you to giggle softly as you look down at the jersey on your body.

You reach down, grabbing one side of the jersey and tucking it into the waistband of your shorts, letting it hang diagonally across you so people can at least see you are wearing shorts underneath his jersey.

“Good?” you ask softly, looking back up at him, but you don’t even need to wait for his words to know that it is. His eyes darken as he stares at you wearing his clothes, and a sense of possessiveness rumbles through him. He has to resist the urge to push you back into your apartment and take you right on your kitchen counter.

“Yeah, baby, you’re good.” he rasps, taking your hand and kissing it softly before pulling you down the hall, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Once you’re both in the jeep, he makes the short drive over to the stadium; you could’ve walked, but he didn’t want to have to carry his bag the whole way.

His hand finds its way to your thigh almost instantly, his eyes sparking as he glances at you in his passenger seat. You notice how his eyes keep making their way over to you, taking in the sight of your perfect, thick thighs covering the seat, and his jersey clinging to your body.

“What?” you ask after a minute or two, laughing softly as he meets your gaze, shrugging.

“You just look so good in my passenger seat, princess.” he purrs, taking his hand off your thigh for a moment to grab your hand and raise it to his lips. You bite your lip as you look back out the window, noticing the sea of people in red and yellow shirts making their way down the sidewalk to the stadium.

“Are you ready? Excited? Nervous?” you ask after a moment, feeling nerves bubbling in your stomach for him, knowing how many people will be watching today.

“I’m not nervous. You’re gonna be sitting in the front row watching me. It’ll only make me work harder.” he says with a wink as he pulls into a parking spot and puts the jeep in park.

“You’re gonna be great. And I know nothing about football, so even if you aren’t, I won’t be able to tell.” you tell him as you turn in your seat to face him, a small, and slightly embarrassed smile on your face.

“So, you mean to tell me that you agreed to come to my game, and you don’t even know how many points a touchdown is?” He laughs at your words, shaking his head. It makes his heart swell a little; thinking of you being here just because he wants you to.

“Seven?” you say as more of a question than an answer, embarrassment filling your stomach. “If not, then I know less about football than I thought.” you finish with a small laugh, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Close, princess. It’s six.” he says in a gentle tone, a smile glued to his face. You’re so cute, he thinks, he can’t wait to see you in the stands.

“But what about the kick, or whatever? That makes seven, right?” you argue softly, raising a brow.

“Yes, but that’s an extra point. That’s not how much the actual touchdown is worth.” You roll your eyes at his words, laughing softly.

“Alright, whatever.” you get out before his lips are on yours, his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

“I appreciate the effort, though. But just because you don’t know anything about football doesn’t mean you don’t have to cheer for me.” he tells you sternly once he pulls back, but you can see the glint in his eye as you nod.

“I’ll just cheer when everyone else does.” you joke, although you’re dead serious. You hope that the game will be easy enough to follow along with, but your plan if it’s not is to wait until everyone else starts to cheer.

“Deal.” he murmurs, leaning in to meet your lips again.

“Okay, lets go. You still need to get ready.” you tell him as you push him away, not letting his lips meet yours. He groans, but then agrees and gets out of the jeep.

He grabs your hands once his bag is over his shoulder, smiling to himself as he feels you wrap your other arm around his bicep.

As he leads you into the stadium, he notices a guy’s eyes on you, and he feels jealousy flare up inside of him. He squeezes your hand instinctively, which causes you to look up at him, completely unaware of the situation.

“Are you okay? Are you sure you’re not nervous?” you ask softly, stepping closer as the crowd gets more and more dense. He nods stiffly, his jaw clenched. Maybe this isn’t as good of an idea as he thought.

“I’m fine, princess. I don’t get nervous,” he tells you, his eyes still ahead of him. “Especially not with my good luck charm beside me.” he mentions after a moment in a softer voice. He finally looks down at you, feeling his jealousy slipping away as he sees your big wide eyes looking up at him.

You hum softly, face growing hot at his words as you look down at the ground, trusting him to lead you through the crowd.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket with the hand that’s not holding yours, groaning as he realizes that he should’ve been in the locker room a few minutes ago. He stops and turns to you, which makes you look up to meet his eyes.

“Okay, I have to go. Can you find your way to your seat by yourself?” he asks, ducking down slightly to better match your height. You nod, biting your lip.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be sitting right behind the bench, waiting to cheer for you when you score a touchdown, which is worth six points.” you tease, rising onto your toes to meet his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. He happily leans down to meet you halfway, on hand on your hip and the other on your jaw.

“You’re gonna kill it.” you tell him once you both pull away, letting your arms drop from around his neck as you take a step back. He smiles at you, smacking your ass softly as you turn to walk to your seat, eyes glued to the way it jiggles from his touch.

You squeal softly in surprise, then whirl around quickly to look at him. He chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender.

“I can feel my good luck charm working already.” he says with a wink, and you fight back a smile as you shake your head. You turn again, walking to your seat, a smile finally breaking onto your face once you’re turned away from him.

He makes his way to the locker room and gets ready, apologizing quickly as his coach yells at him for being late. He starts feeling his adrenaline growing until it’s time for the teams to come onto the field. He revels in the feeling of so many people cheering for his team, so it takes a few seconds for him to find you in the large stadium, exactly where you said you’d be.

You grin widely as you see him running onto the field, standing in your seat on the aisle and cheering with the rest of the crowd. As he runs over to the bench, his grin widens and he gives you a wink, which isn’t lost on some of his teammates. They look at each other with raised brows, but they can’t tell who he’s looking at in the sea of red and yellow.

The game starts quickly, and you have to admit, you have no idea what’s going on. Your eyes move between the ball and Evan, and you think he’s doing really well, as he keeps blocking and tackling the other team. The first quarter seems to be pretty uneventful, however, as it’s still 0-0 when it ends.

He jogs over to the bench with his team, taking a drink of water. His eyes find yours again and you beam at him before blowing him a kiss. You can’t help it; you think seeing him playing football is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His smile widens as he pretends to catch it, trying to angle his body so his teammates don’t see his actions, but his smile drops as he hears his teammates laughing behind him. He turns to them, shoving the teammate closest to him, mumbling a small “shut up” before his head turns back in your direction.

You feel bad as you notice his teammates teasing him, and when he turns back to you, you mouth a quick “sorry.” He shakes his head, however, mouthing back “it’s okay” as he gives you another wink.

“Head in the game, loverboy.” he hears behind him, along with a few of his teammates laughing.

He turns back to his friend Owen, mumbling a rough “whatever, man” as he fights back a smile. Despite his clenched jaw and stern expression at their teasing, he can’t help feeling a little giddy as he keeps the image of you in his jersey in his mind.

The second quarter starts, and things start to pick up, and you’re starting to figure out a little bit more about what’s going on. Both teams have scored some touchdowns, but Evan’s team is still up by a few points, which you’re thankful for. You can’t imagine the pressure he and the rest of the team have on them, despite how unphased Evan seemed to be earlier.

You keep your word, cheering when the rest of the crowd cheers, feeling a sense of pride that you have his name on your back whenever he does something for his team. You’re amazed at what he can do, how he tackles and blocks the other team, how he throws and catches the ball. You could never do any of that, you think, you can’t get over how strong he must be do to all of this.

The whistle blows to signal halftime, and you watch as Evan and the rest of the team jog to the locker room. As you wait for the game to continue, you pull out your phone, feeling a little awkward as everyone around you is talking to other people they came with. You decide to text Evan quickly.

You: You’re doing great. You’re gonna kill it in the second half<3

He grabs his phone from his locker as he hears it chime, a smile making its way onto his face as he reads your message. As he’s about to type out a reply, Owen sees the way he stopped responding to him, and turns to face him with a smirk.

“That your girlfriend?” A few of the guys look over as Owen speaks with surprised expressions, not quite used to the idea of Evan having a girl come to any of their games. They’ve seen him with girls at parties before, but he was never serious enough about them for much else.

In an instant, one of the other guys, Luca, grabs Evan’s phone from his hand, another one, Cam, coming in just as quick to block Evan from getting the phone back.

“Look at this, he got a good luck text from his girl.” Luca teases, holding the phone out for a few of the other guys to see. Evan groans, still trying to get around Cam to get his phone back. He can feel himself getting angry, although he knows deep down there’s no reason to be. It feels like they’re stealing you away from him, as if you’re the phone.

“You got a crush, man?” another teammate asks, chuckling softly and patting him on the back.

You watch your text switch from delivered to read, and you’re happy that he’s seen it, but you can’t help but frown when he doesn’t respond. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through you, and feeling a little worked up from seeing Evan playing, you send him another text, hoping to encourage him further.

Luca puts a hand to his mouth as another text comes in, laughing loudly as he looks up at Evan with wide eyes.

“Damn, man. Now I know why you chose her.” he teases, tilting the phone as a few players look over his shoulder at the text. Evan still struggles around Cam, his face getting red in frustration and jealousy. What did you say, he thinks?

“Got yourself a punt bunny, Buckley?” another chimes in right as Evan finally grabs his phone back, looking down at the text quickly.

You: If you win, I’ll give you a reward later.

He can’t help but smirk at his phone, the chatter from his teammates fading into the background as he rereads your words. He’s a little surprised at them, but he can’t help the way his dick twitches at the idea. He starts to think about the many ways you could reward him when his coach starts speaking loudly, going over the game plan one more time before the game resumes.

He types a quick response before shoving his phone back in his locker, listening intently to the coaches words.

Evan: I’ll keep that in mind, princess.

The third quarter starts a minute or two after you get a response from Evan, butterflies filling your stomach as your brain finally catches up with what you texted him. You bite your lip as nerves fill your stomach, but they’re pushed aside as soon as you see Evan in his gear, a wave of desire flowing through you again.

Everything is going well until there’s only three minutes left in the quarter. You watch as a player comes out of nowhere, tackling Evan to the ground. He stays down for a few moments after the other player gets off of him, groaning in pain.

You shoot up from your seat, raising a hand to your mouth as your breath catches in your throat. Dread fills every inch of your body as you watch him lay still, fighting the urge to run onto the field and make sure he’s okay yourself. Why isn’t anyone checking on him, you think as you watch intently, barely blinking as you study his form.

Finally, he sits up slowly, shaking his head before he gets up. You let out a shaky breath, feeling your shoulders drop as he slowly stands up and signals he’s good to keep playing. You bite your nail anxiously as you keep your eyes on him, not even focusing on the ball until the quarter is over.

He makes his way to the bench, his body aching a little, but nothing he’s not used to. He takes his helmet off and looks up at you, immediately noticing your unease. He gives you a thumbs up and a wide smile, hoping to calm your nerves, and it works slightly. You stop biting your nail and give him a small smile, but you want this game to be over immediately so you can make sure he’s okay.

You see that they’re now down by a point, and you wait anxiously for the last quarter to start, barely paying attention to anything as your eyes go unfocused and your eyes move across the stadium.

Evan’s heart swells at your nervousness. Although he doesn’t want you to worry, he can’t help the warm feeling in his chest because he knows you’re worried about him.

The fourth quarter is almost over, and Evan would be lying if he said his head is completely in the game. He’s still playing as hard as he can, but he can’t help his mind wander to you in his jersey, and the text you sent. He knows that this game is important, but all he sees when he glances at the scoreboard is how many minutes until he can get you back to his place.

The game ends, and the entire stadium erupts in chaos, and you can’t help but shoot up from your seat, jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd with a huge smile. They won.

You watch the team celebrate with each other on the field, and you can feel the excitement coming off of them. You know it’s Evan’s last year on the team, as you’re both graduating at the end of the year, and you’re so happy that his last homecoming game is ending with a win.

You watch as the teams make their way off the fields, and you wait a few minutes for the stands to clear out slightly before making your way towards the locker rooms, standing where you and Evan parted ways earlier.

He’s quick to change once he gets to the locker room, not even bothering to shower before he throws all his things in his bag. He celebrates with his teammates for a few minutes, but as they start to get ready to shower, he’s leaving the locker room faster than he ever has.

You lean against the wall as you anxiously wait to see Evan exiting the locker room, and you can’t help the squeal you let out when you finally see him, a large grin erupting on your face. You practically run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, overwhelmed by the happiness you feel. He drops his bag and wraps his arms around your waist quickly, a soft noise escaping his throat as you run into him.

“Hi, princess.” he says at the same time as you say “you did so good.” You both laugh softly before he responds in your ear, not wanting to let you go.

“Of course, I did. I had my good luck charm with me.” You laugh softly, pulling back just enough to meet his lips in a searing kiss. But, almost immediately after you kiss him, you pull back, a worried expression taking over your face.

“Are you okay? You took a pretty hard hit.” you ask softly, your hands moving to his cheeks, searching his eyes for any sign of pain. He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he feels his cheeks flush slightly.

“I’m fine, princess. Don’t worry about me.” he whispers before leaning in again, pulling you as close to him as he can with his hands on your waist. He pulls back after a moment, not wanting to get caught by the rest of the team;

he knows he’d never hear the end of it.

He picks up his bag and wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the jeep. You look up at him beside you, noticing the gleam of sweat on his face, and the way his hair sticks to his neck.

“Are we going right to the party? Or are you gonna shower first?” you ask teasingly, giving him a cheeky smile as he looks down at you with a scoff.

“I’m gonna stop by my place and shower quick, princess, don’t worry.” he tells you, giving you a wink as he pulls you closer. You gag jokingly, pushing him away from you, mumbling a “good” as you finally get to the jeep.

“You’re welcome to join me if you want.” he says once you’re both in the jeep, looking over at you with a raised brow. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you meet his gaze, fighting back a smile as you shake your head.

“I don’t get that, it makes no sense. Showers are supposed to be relaxing. If there are two people, one person is standing in the water and the other person is cold.” you tell him seriously, although the more you think of it, the more you like the idea of showering with him. He chuckles at your response, rolling his eyes as he begins to drive the short distance back to his place.

“Well, yeah, if the other person is selfish. You wouldn’t be selfish in the shower, though, would you?” he teases, grabbing your thigh tightly, his thumb gently running across your inner thigh in a drastic contrast.

“I guess you’ll never know.” you tell him teasingly, smirking as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, but I’d like to.” he murmurs as you look out the window, which makes you laugh softly, shaking your head again.

As you make your way to his house, you can’t help the grin plastered to your face. Evan has the windows down, blasting his music, and you can hear the giddy chatter of passing students as they walk down the sidewalk. His hand stays on your hand the entire time, and as you take in all the joy in the air, you feel the excitement bubbling up inside you for the night to come.

next chapter

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[devilstruly]

PASS IT FORWARD

pairing - timeskip. kuroo tetsuro (shocking ik) x msby manager gn. reader

summarization - being co-workers (kinda) and more than friends with kuroo comes with its pros and cons

includes - mutual pining, pining at work, distractions at work, did i mention pining, msby 4 and all the shenanigans that come with them, etc.

a/n - i've been thinking about this the whole day and i need to get it out. kinda long whoops. hopefully you'll like it tho <3

It's around 5 pm when you're finally able to sit down on one of the benches by the court, your papers and notes disregarded in your bag. Propping your chin on your hand, you watch in amusement as Atsumu sets to Sakusa and the latter hits a perfect line-shot.

The blonde is undeniably talented, anyone can see it from a mile away, but in all your months of knowing him the awe you feel never seems to falter. Not to mention the outside hitter. The curly-haired objectively handsome outside hitter.

Most times, you question the higher forces when it comes to dealing with these four, but when you have time to sit and observe them it becomes very clear why they get the amount of attention they do. All of them have these amazing qualities that seem to just lure people in. And apparently a lot of people seem to share that sentiment.

Kuroo Tetsuro included.

-

It's around 6.30 pm when Kuroo finally steps out of the JVA's main building, the light breeze causing his bangs to sway to the right.

He immediately fishes his phone out of his coat pocket, ignoring all the other messages and immediately going to his contact list.

The whole day today he was drowning in work and didn't even have a chance to text you and tell you his proposal was approved. Sponsorships flooded in, arrangements had to be made, timings discussed, and so on and so forth.

While he awaits for the steady beeps to pass and your voice to replace them, he can't help the small smile on his face.

'Hey! Finally decided to leave?'

At the sound of your voice his smile inevitably widens and he has to bite his lip to suppress it even the tiniest bit.

'Yeah, someone has to do the extra work around here.'

'Not if you're not getting paid for it you don't.'

'You have a point. It's worth it though.'

'Is it?'

Kuroo can practically see the face you're making and the image has him completely forgetting about the cold outside.

He's so focused on the warmth spreading through him, as well as all the memories from a few hours prior, it takes him a moment to register you calling out his name.

'Kuroo? You there?'

He forces himself to take a deep breath.

'They approved it.'

-

'Oh my god! Tetsu! That's fucking amazing! Congratulations!'

His deep chuckle reverberates through your phone and the swarm of butterflies in your stomach increases tenfold.

'Thank you. We should celebrate, don't you think? Dinner's on me. Invite the guys and meet me at Miya's at 7.30.'

'Okay. See you soon.'

You hang up with pride radiating of off you, so much so that even Sakusa is intrigued by your sudden spirit uplifting.

'What was that about?'

Four familiar faces surround you as your arms fly up in the air, your grin rivaling Hinata's signature smile.

'Kuroo's pitch was approved!'

A series of positively shocked statements follow, but all you can focus on is the happiness cursing through your whole body.

-

The familiar layout of Onigiri Miya greets the five of you when you step through the front door, immediately spotting Kuroo occupying one of the bigger tables. He's laughing at something Suna is showing him on his phone and for a moment your world just stops.

His hair falls every which way, due to the amount of times he ran his hand through it probably, his tie is loosened and the first two buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

And he's laughing. That horrible, loud, manic hyena laugh that has you nearly tripping over your own feet.

Everything about him is naturally beautiful, in ways you couldn't even begin to describe.

Not to mention his eyes. You could get lost in those forever. There's just something about the golden specs in them and the intensity in his gaze whenever it meets yours.

Like now.

When he looks up he finds you immediately, and if possible his grin widens. It's like his body has a mind of its own because before he knows it he's standing in front of you.

'Hi.'

'Hi.'

Atsumu rolls his eyes somewhere behind you, the action earning him a slap on the back of his head by his brother, but you can't be bothered by anything besides Kuroo.

'I'm so proud of you, Tetsu!'

Your arms envelop him in a flash and he prays you don't feel the speed of his heartbeat.

Like a puzzle, when his own arms wrap around your form it feels like a perfect fit that neither of you wants to break. Unfortunately, you eventually do, but make no effort to move further.

God those eyes.

'Get a room already!'

Atsumu's shout breaks you both out of your trance, flushed cheeks and sheepish smiles.

'Before we start, I have an announcement.'

All attention falls onto the tall man who doesn't seem at all fazed by it, another thing you admired about him.

'You all...'

He makes a long pause for dramatic effect, which earns him a slap on the arm from you.

'...Are looking at the new Special Chief of PR Department at JVA.'

'Wait, seriously?!'

'Mhm.'

The table errupts in cheers and claps and you, once again, feel that fulfilling surge of pride when you look at him.

'You're fucking amazing.'

You shake your head with fondness. Fondness that Kuroo senses when he looks at you.

Under the dim lights of Osamu's restaurant, you admire the sharpness of his jawline, the curve of his nose, the way his stupidly messy hair covers half of his right eye...And too caught up in him, you fail to notice his eyes unable to pull away from your lips.

He was already standing close, you two never seemed to care for personal space, but he takes a step closer for good measure. It seems to have the desired effect when your eyes snap up to meet his, the corner of his lips tugging upwards ever so slightly.

'Do you mind if I-'

His voice is barely above a whisper but you cut him off with a nod and zero second thoughts.

'Please do.'

The moment your lips meet it's officially game over.

It's just you two in the world, no customers, no pro-athletes throwing comments in the background, just him.

[coloursflyaway]

Good Enough

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.000

Read on AO3

So, Edwin is in love with him.

Edwin loves him, and Charles genuinely never even considered the possibility of this, of them, before.

It might be because, back when he was still alive, his dad would have beaten the notion right out of him, but then again, his dad has been wrong about most things in his life, so fuck him.

So, Edwin is in love with him.

It’s… quite flattering, actually. To think that Edwin, who is beautiful and intelligent and educated, who can recite his favourite Keats poem by heart just as easily as tell you his favourite Mozart aria (it’s Konstanze, dich wiederzusehen from Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Edwin told him that, years ago), who knows spells and can read ancient Aramaic, who is the kindest, most brilliant person Charles has ever known, would love him.

Now, Charles knows that he is easy enough on the eyes, good with words and people, and has one hell of a swing if you give him a cricket bat, but the only reason he knows any Mozart aria is because Edwin showed them to him.

The only reason he knows Keats’ poetry is because Edwin would read them to him on slow, warm summer nights in the early 2000s.

The only reason he is here, is because Edwin let him stay.

So, it’s special, having someone like Edwin love him.

It’s fucking terrifying.

Because Charles is now holding the heart of the person he loves most in the world, and it’s a bigger responsibility than any he has ever taken on before.

He can’t fuck this up.

The thing is that nothing changes between them at all.

Charles isn’t sure if he expected it to, but what he is relatively certain about is that it most likely should. After all, it was an unexpected revelation, probably to both of them, definitely a shift in their relationship.

And yet, when Charles looks at Edwin, who is reading a novel whose name he cannot make out, curled up on the couch they have gotten for Crystal (and sometimes Jenny), he doesn’t feel different at all.

It’s still Edwin, his best mate, the boy that read to him when he was dying so he wouldn’t have to do it alone, who tries to smile whenever Charles shows him a new song he has fallen in love with, and occasionally fails hilariously at, who Charles would protect with his life and his soul and his cricket bat, no matter how high the stakes.

I love you the most, Charles thinks to himself, and smiles, because nothing about that has changed, either.

He has told Edwin that they would have forever to figure out the rest, and it’s the truth, technically speaking.

However, Charles doesn’t, because it’s Edwin and he has given Charles his heart and he doesn’t deserve to wait that long for an answer. It would be cruel in a way Charles cannot comprehend, and if there is anyone who doesn’t deserve more cruelty in their existence, it’s Edwin Payne.

The only problem with that fact is that Charles doesn’t know the answer.

He’s been thinking about it a lot, but the thing is, he’s never been in love before.

So he doesn’t really know what to compare his feelings for Edwin to, because, of course, they are greater than for anyone else, of course, Charles would sacrifice anything and anyone for Edwin, especially himself, of course, making Edwin smile is his favourite part of any day.

Because he loves Edwin, everything about him.

But is he, could he be, in love with Edwin?

Charles doesn’t know, nor does he know how to find out. It’s not like he hasn’t tried, but every novel he has paged through, every silly romcom he has watched, has been talking about butterflies in someone’s stomach, of seeing them in some new, golden light, of hearing violins playing when they speak, and Charles very much doubts that Edwin feels any of those things for him.

Otherwise he wouldn’t raise his eyebrows like that when he thinks Charles is being an insufferable little prick, he wouldn’t roll his eyes and tell him, “I know, Charles, you have told me a thousand times before”, whenever Charles brings up how much he wishes he could still taste things, or groan whenever Charles attempts to convince him to just try and let him put on some eyeliner.

(It’s just that Edwin would look so pretty like that, some kohl to bring out the warmth of his eyes, making them stand out even more than they do anyway.)

So all this talk of violins and sparkles and the need to give someone roses, if Edwin doesn’t feel that when he says he is love with Charles, then it’s pointless to consider, and anyway, those books and films describe people who have just met, not those who have known each other for twice as long as they were alive.

Maybe if he had just met Edwin, he would be hearing violins, Charles definitely thinks it’s possible.

Especially the violins in Konstanze, dich wiederzusehen.

“I just need some time alone”, Crystal says, putting on her jacket, while already opening the door. “And I am aware that that is a novel concept for the two of you, since you are basically attached at the hip, but for me, an alive human being, it’s really important to occasionally have a second of peace between almost dying and whatever we will have going on next.”

She stops to put on her shoes, almost falling over in the process, and Charles and Edwin share a look, a smile, and Charles thinks, I love you the most.

“Don’t follow me”, Crystal tells them, especially Charles, and it’s kind of cute, actually. “I’m going to get the biggest frappuchino Starbucks is legally allowed to serve me and I will not tolerate any ghostly company while doing that.”

Charles holds up his hands, still grinning, indicating his surrender in a battle he wasn’t aware they were fighting, and Crystal gives him a single nod before she walks out.

“So”, Charles starts, and turns around to face Edwin, who is already looking back, “what do we think this frappuchino she was talking about, is?”

Actually, there is one thing that changes between them after all.

It’s subtle, at least at first, but looking back, Charles isn’t quite sure how he managed to miss it for the few weeks that have passed. Maybe it was the shock of almost being forced to move on to the afterlife, the chaos of getting Crystal and Jenny settled in London, the fact that it seems to increase only slowly, incrementally.

Edwin has never been a physically affectionate person, completely contrary to how Charles is.

If it had been up to him alone, he would have hugged Edwin much more often, would have leant against him when they were looking through a book together, would have held hands to keep them from losing each other when things got hectic. But it wasn’t, and that was fine, so it was occasional touches instead, a hand on Edwin’s upper arm, his back, ruffling his perfect hair when he was doing something kind of dumb, kind of cute.

(That one always made him duck his head and smile, glance up at Charles through his lashes and allow a second to pass before he started fixing his hair again.)

Now, however, it’s… it’s not getting better, because there was nothing wrong with it in the first place, Edwin’s aversion to physical affection, but it is changing now.

It’s less that he initiates it, more than he allows it to happen more frequently. Sitting down next to Charles on the sofa instead of taking the armchair, allowing Charles’ hand to linger on his arm for a moment longer than expected, letting their shoulders brush when walking.

He’s not asking to be touched, not really, but something about it still makes Charles irrationally happy as soon as he catches onto it. Because Edwin deserves all the affection the world can offer, and Charles will always be here to give it to him.

So he reaches out in the morning, when the sun has just started to rise, and puts his hand on the curve of Edwin’s shoulder, right where it meets his neck, and points out that the clouds are turning the most beautiful pink. He throws his legs across Edwin’s lap when they settle down on the sofa at night, a book in Edwin’s hands, the tablet Crystal made him buy in Charles’. He pushes his fingers through Edwin’s hair, not to ruffle it, but just to pretend he can feel its softness against his skin.

It makes Edwin duck his head again, give Charles a little smile when looking up, and Charles thinks, I love you the most.

And thinks, I want to love you the most in every way you will have me.

“Jenny, I have a question”, Charles starts as soon as he has phased through the walls of her new butcher shop. It’s to her credit that she hardly reacts; the first time he had done that, she had thrown a meat cleaver right through his head. “What do you know about love?”

Instead of a knife, Jenny just throws him a weary look, an eyebrow elegantly arched. It makes Charles think of being scolded by the headmistress, a sensation that should be much more unpleasant than it is.

“Nothing”, Jenny answers and brings her cleaver down with a dull thud, separating flesh from bone, before looking up at Charles again. “No one ever knows anything about love and if they try to tell you otherwise, they are lying.”

There is a certain sense of finality in her voice and Charles knows he has been dismissed, no detention this time, but don’t dare to push it.

“Great”, he mutters, more to himself than to Jenny, “that doesn’t help me at all.”

“You should look at this, Charles”, Edwin says and turns the book towards him.

It’s late at night, Crystal having long since gone home and they are sat on the sofa, shoulders touching while they do their research. A new case has come up, and Edwin is trying to learn more about ancient Celtic runes, while Charles is pouring over a map of London’s underground; now, he looks up and at the page Edwin is showing him.

“We could add this to your bat”, Edwin explains, “it’s a rune for physical strength. Supposedly, it doubles whatever force you put into a hit.”

“Edwin, mate, are you trying to tell me I need help with hitting people?”

Charles is grinning, obviously teasing, and Edwin just scoffs, rolls his eyes.

And that is what Charles means; this isn’t birdsong and candle light, this is just how they always have been. This is what makes them them, even.

“Charles, do be serious”, Edwin replies, but there is affection in his voice, there is love. “I am perfectly aware that you can hit things very well, but that doesn’t mean that hitting them even better wouldn’t be an advantage.”

“I know. This is brills”, Charles concedes, and on a whim, nothing more than that, presses a quick kiss to Edwin’s cheek.

For a moment, he almost expects Edwin to admonish him, because this isn’t exactly something that they do, but instead he stares at him, before he ducks his head; Charles isn’t sure how he knows this, but if Edwin could, he would be blushing.

And it does something to Charles’ head, the thought that he would be able to make Edwin blush. It makes him stop dead in his tracks, look at Edwin not like he is seeing him for the first time, but like he could be looking at him for the rest of his existence and not get bored of it.

“Do you wanna do the honours of carving it? Since you were the one who found the thing?”, he asks just to say something, aware that his voice sounds slightly off, and thinks, I love you the most. I love you the most. I love you the most.

“Very well done, Charles”, Edwin tells him and clasps a long-fingered hand on Charles’ shoulder, peering down at the leprechaun he knocked out clean with his bat a few seconds before.

The rune really makes it pack a punch.

“I don’t think this will pose any further problems”, Edwin continues even as he crouches down to examine the passed-out form crumpled on the ground. He prods at it gently.

“It fucking better”, Charles replies, resisting the urge to pull Edwin away from the leprechaun, just in case that touching it might have some kind of magical side effect. “And if not, I’ll punch it right back out. I’ve got an Edwin Payne-improved bat after all, it won’t stand a chance.”

Just for good measure, he twirls the bat around once, twice.

This has always been one of his favourite parts of the job, the simple pleasure of knocking someone out before they get the chance to hurt his friends.

Edwin looks up at him from where he is crouching, and Charles grins at him, metaphorical adrenaline running through his non-existent veins still. He would punch out a bear if Edwin asked it of him.

Before he can say anything else, though, Crystal clears her throat from behind him, sounding decidedly less impressed.

“That’s really cool, yeah. New bat, I get it”, she says, walking around Charles so she, too, can see the unconscious leprechaun. “But you do remember that we actually wanted to talk to him, right?”

They get to talk to the leprechaun in the end, who turns out to be about as obnoxious as expected, but does admit to stealing the heirloom they were looking for for his pot of gold.

He even gives it back, but only after Charles has started twirling his bat again.

“And another satisfied customer”, Charles comments as they return to the agency, flinging his backpack into the corner.

“Client, you mean”, Edwin corrects, but still smiles at him, and pats the space next to him as soon as he sits down on the sofa. Charles flings himself down without a second thought, legs landing somewhere across Edwin’s laps, one of his hands settling on Charles’ ankles.

This is new, at least to some extent, and Charles loves it, the feeling of Edwin’s fingers on him. It feels right, somehow.

I just really love you the most, he thinks.

“Yeah, whatever”, he concedes and looks over at Crystal, who is watching them with something in her eyes that Charles cannot quite place. Not bad, per se, just…. Strange. “Doesn’t sound that good though, does it? And anyway, the most important thing is that they’re satisfied, right? Passed on right to the afterlife, no worries keeping them here any longer.”

“As if it’s only worries that could keep one here”, Edwin replies, his tone as dry as the desert, but making Charles laugh anyway. “We should be the best example for that.”

“You know what I mean!”, he shoots back, “It isn’t like with us, is it? Don’t think that the client was kept back by meeting the love of their life, were they now?”

It spills from his lips like nothing, without Charles thinking about it for a single second.

He’s still laughing, but Edwin’s fingers have stopped where they were gently stroking across the arch of his foot, and then Charles realises it, and for the first time, hears silence.

For the first time since they got back from Hell, they part when Crystal leaves.

The conversation had been stilted after Charles’...slip up? blunder? confession? and although it had been obvious that all three of them had been trying, it had been impossible to get things back on track.

So, Charles leaves with Crystal, telling Edwin he will walk her home, although that is something he has never done before, and Crystal lets him, although he is fairly certain she wouldn’t under normal circumstances.

She doesn’t need anyone protecting her from the city she grew up in after all.

“How do you know you’re in love with someone?”, Charles asks after they have walked in silence for a few minutes. He can’t think of a way to cushion the question, how to make it less awkward to ask, so he doesn’t bother with it at all.

“This is about Edwin?”, she asks, seemingly to clarify, and Charles nods mutely, not looking up at her. “I’m not sure. Especially not when it comes to the two of you. For Edwin, I could have seen from miles away that he was in love with you, even if he hadn’t reacted like he did when we first met. For you… you love him, anyone with eyes could see that, but if you’re in love with him, I think you have to figure that out yourself.”

“Do you know how it feels, though? Being in love?”, he asks, just in case Crystal can at least tell him that.

“I’m not sure”, she answers after a moment, then links their arms together, pulling Charles closer. “I think that’s different for everyone. But I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out what it feels like to you if you let yourself.”

He walks Crystal home, but when she asks if he wants to stay, Charles just shakes his head.

Edwin is back at the agency, and Charles isn’t sure exactly in which state, what he is thinking, and Charles cannot allow that. At least not for long.

What he does, though, is taking a little detour to the park not too far from their building.

It’s the first time he really pays it any mind, even if it’s most likely not the first time he’s been there, but now, Charles lays down on the grass, looking up at the night sky.

London is too bright for him to see many stars, but there’s a few of them; Edwin would surely be able to point out a constellation or two.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it.

Edwin isn’t here, and yet he is with Charles anyway, always, in every moment of his existence.

Sighing, he scrubs a hand down his face. There’s no way around it, it has to be now, and it has to be the right answer, the one he truly means, because Edwin deserves nothing but that.

No false hope, and no heartbreak that might be taken back along the line.

So, he thinks of Edwin, of his elegant hands and the swagger in his walk when he feels confident, of the colour of his hair and of his eyes, of the curves and slopes and sharp cuts of his face.

He loves that face, has seen it with every possible expression painted across of it, and still loves it.

The stars above are dim and partly hidden behind the clouds, so Charles lets his eyes slip shut, and imagines coming home to the agency and taking Edwin’s hands in his.

They would be just a little smaller than his own, his fingers slender and yet so capable, and if he could still feel, Charles is convinced they would feel cool against his skin.

He imagines pulling Edwin close and holding him like he has always wanted to, burying his face against the side of Edwin’s neck and pretending he can breathe in his scent. Having Edwin sneak his arms around Charles’ waist and cling to the back of his jacket, like he doesn’t want to let go again.

In his imagination, it feels a little like the hug they shared after being granted asylum on Earth, but it would be entirely different, because it wouldn’t be out of relief.

Instead, it would be just them, embracing to feel the other close.

And he thinks of pulling back from the hug, seeing Edwin smile and kissing the curve of his lips, nipping at them until he can make Edwin laugh and teasing his mouth open to lick into it.

It would be like kissing Crystal, kind of, only that-

Only that it wouldn’t be like that at all.

He runs back to the agency, as fast as his spectral feet can carry him.

Edwin is sitting right where he left him, almost like he hadn’t moved an inch since Charles walked out of the door, and he hopes to all deities he can think of that it isn’t so; knows, at the same time, that it is.

“Hi”, Charles greets, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and Edwin nods and gives him a smile, brittle and unsure and hopeful, all at once.

“Hello, Charles. Did Crystal get home safe?”, he asks, and it’s so painfully polite it makes Charles cringe.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, of course she did”, he responds, trying to figure out how to begin saying what he needs Edwin to know, but Edwin beats him to it.

“Did you mean it?”, Edwin asks, breathes out the question like he still has lungs to do so, and it’s in that moment that Charles is more certain of his answer than anything else he has ever thought, because Edwin sounds small, sounds vulnerable and breakable and yet so fucking hopeful, and Charles wants to pick him up and cradle him against his chest and never let go again.

“Yes”, he says, and it’s sunrise and violins and bouquets of roses all at once, it’s a single word that changes the world around them. “Kind of. Let me explain.”

And Edwin nods, sits back with his hands in his lap and all Charles can think about is that those same hands belong holding a book, resting on the top of Charles’ legs, which should be flung carelessly across Edwin’s lap, just because Charles wants to be near him.

“You’re the love of my life, no matter what”, he starts, crouching down in front of Edwin so he can take his hands; they look so lost. “You have been for decades. I love you the most of anything in the world. I will always love you the most. Every time I look at you, it’s just that on repeat in my head. I love you the most.”

He ducks his head, laughing softly, because it sounds silly now that he says it out-loud, but when he looks back up, there are tears brimming in Edwin’s eyes, making them shine even brighter.

His lips are parted and for just a moment, Charles thinks about kissing them.

“And you know, I still can’t say that I am in love with you back, because you don’t deserve a lie, but what I can say, what I can promise you, is that I could fall in love with you. And that I want to. More than anything.”

A single tear rolls down Edwin’s cheek, glistening in the dim light, and Charles looks at him, and thinks, I do. I am. I love you the most.

“Could that be enough?”, he asks, squeezing Edwin’s hands in his. “At least for the start?”

And Edwin nods so frantically that more tears spill over, wetting his face, and Charles can’t help but laugh; how strange to think that making Edwin cry for once is not his biggest fear, but something that fills his heart with joy to the point of bursting.

“Okay. Brills, that’s-”, he replies, and can’t keep himself from smiling so wide it would hurt if he was still alive. “So, um. Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you right now.”

Again, Edwin nods, and he is smiling, too, looks so happy that Charles thinks heaven must be overrated, because nothing in the whole of existence could compare to this.

He thinks of the scene he pictured in the park of holding Edwin close and how much in pales in comparison to this, to holding Edwin’s hands and watching him glow with love and hope and warmth.

And leans in to find out if the same is true for kissing him.

(It is.)

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-one — oh no, he’s hot! (💋)

You can’t believe you agreed to this.

Oh wait, actually you can. Your mind keeps deciding what’s good for you, but was your mind even in the right place anyway? It’s really hard to come to terms with this right now while you’re sitting in Scaramouche’s passenger seat.

Was the Inazuma party that great for him to offer on his own to pick you up? If it weren’t for your absolute mastermind of a plan, you’d definitely say no. Hopefully?

But the both of you nestling in the straw bed of silence wasn’t on your bucket list for said plan. “How much longer?” You asked, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between you two like a thick fog.

“Thirty minutes.” Scaramouche’s dull tone was a true testament to the silence that encompassed them moments ago. It was kind of sad.

“And…how long was it when you started..?” You hesitantly drawled.

“Thirty-two minutes.”

“Oh my god,” You muttered, sinking into your seat. You should have never agreed for him to give you a ride, it’s like his brooding broodiness was plaguing your lungs.

But for some reason! You kept trying. “So! Uh…what made you want to pick me up anyway? We’ve got…some interesting history for you to be making this kind of effort right now!”

“I don’t do small talk.”

“Look, you gotta give me something. I’m dying here.” You pleaded with your eyes, probably the only sort of manipulation tactic you could try and use on him.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh. His violet eyes briefly flickering to meet yours before returning to the road. “It was either that, or bartend.”

“Wait, seriously? That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow, cheeks puffed from your fight to keep a laugh in. “You didn’t just want to be a good Samaritan, or what?”

“Do I look like I’d do something out of the goodness of my heart?” Scaramouche’s expression turned sour.

“I don’t know! You’re alright, I guess.” You caught yourself staring for a lot longer than expected, “Uhh, in the way that a clown at kids birthday parties has an extensive knife paraphernalia…kind of…alright?”

You cringed. This is a horrible conversation, even more so now that Scaramouche was willing to ignore what you said.

But the quieter it got, the better it was to hear a small laugh come out of his mouth. Even if you could barely hear the humor he got out of it. You looked at him, catching a glimpse of his mouth turned upwards.

There it was. The butterflies roaming in your stomach, vicariously reminding you of your own carefree mind. A faint glimmer of his amusement was enough to make you nervous, even when he barely made an effort to keep the small smile.

The crack in his demeanor returned to normal, once again unreadable. "Is that all you got?"

You felt a pang of disappointment at his lack of response, shoulder slumping. The awkward feeling was pretty much gone, but at what cost to your dignity? "Yeah, I guess so."

“You’re alright too, (Y/N).”

“Huh? I am..?" Oh no, he’s hot!

“Yeah. It’s unfortunate.”

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @melpomenelurks

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[cinamonqirl]

Think I’m Liking Her More

(Smut and fluff)

Top!Kate Bishop x Female Reader

summary: Kate and your guy friend both want you, so to prove who’s better for you, they are going to take you on a date. You’ve already were on date with this guy, but now it comes to the Kate’s turn.

A/N: Sorry for not being so active but I had to focus on school! I hope you have really happy Christmas and enjoy this present. 🫶🫶

You come home from a date that Kate invited you to. She offered you to take you home after a wonderful date. And you didn't even intend to refuse because you feel safe with her, more than with the other guy that like you too just like Kate. When you were with him on a date, yeah it was good, but not as with an archer. You just don’t feel something for him, like for Kate.

Kate is so romantic, she took you for a picnic date for the beautiful view at New York City. You two had so much fun you stayed there even for the sunset, which for Kate was as beautiful as you.

"You think you are funny?" You laugh teasingly at her stupid jokes, you’ve already heard hundred time today.

"Well you’re laughing at my jokes, so yes" She answers you in the same teasing tone, stopping when you two finally came next to your front door. You turned to her, rolling your eyes sarcastically in response looking at her with a shy smile. As her eyes was focused on yours you squeezed her jacket on your shoulders which she offered you while walking back to your home.

"Do I even have a chance?" She asked after a moment of wondering whether she should ask this question. She really need to know this. She can prove that she can treat you the best, but it’s not her choice who you gonna pick. "I mean.. I know he wants you too, but just so you know I’ll do anything you ask me to." She says in soft voice and affection, almost desperately trying to let you know she truly cares about you.

"That’s sweet of you." You say smiling softly at her words. The smile she gave you right now makes you melt, your legs almost failing you. "But okay… I’ll tell you." You say quietly looking down a little to think, before you answered. She looked at you expectantly, with her hands in her pants pockets, needing this answer right now.

"Honestly, you are the one I want." You admit while squirming a little, looking into her eyes barely because of being so shy under her gaze, so you can’t stop smiling like a fool.

"Am I?" She asked, frowning her eyebrows but her smile was visible at your words. She’s way more confident now after hearing your confession.

"You are so caring, protective, romantic, confident and gentleman… you are just more my type.." You admit softly complimenting her, as her smirk grows bigger. "I can see you really care about me." You smile shyly looking down for a second before your eyes met again.

"Well I can’t deny." She chuckle slightly scratching the back of her neck being really relived by your words. It’s all true what you said about what she is towards you. "I promise you. I will treat you the best I can if you trust me." She came closer looking down at you, taking your hands in hers to warm you up and also make sure you feel protected.

"I know Katie" You look up at her eyes probably looking like a teenager girl crazy in love (because it is like that). She smiled at you and so many butterflies flew in your stomach at her charming smile. You slowly moved your hands from hers, to put your hands around her neck and look into her eyes. "You are more handsome anyway." You whisper jokingly, but also truly. She snort at your compliment smiling like fool, placing her hands on your waist making you shiver at her touch. Without hesitation you stand on your tiptoes and kiss her on the lips.

She felt you pulling her into a soft kiss by your hands on her neck, and she was kinda surprised by your move, because she noticed you’re really shy around her. The first kiss was so sweet that you both enjoyed especially waiting for this moment forever. Kate smiled into a kiss, her hands squeezing your waist, pulling you closer to her and pushing her pressure into you lips.

A cold wind hit your skin, making you think of an idea. You moved away from her mouth but stayed as close as you were. Kate sent you a relaxed smile, letting you know that she enjoyed this moment.

"Do you want to stay with me? My parents aren’t home tonight." You asked meaningfully, biting your lip, excited at the idea.

"Yea, for sure." She snorted, returning the significant tone you gave her, letting you know she really like this idea. Immediately after her words, you turned around to grab your keys to open the door. As you struggled with the lock, Kate leaned against the wall next to you to watch expectantly as you bit your lip in concentration, admiring you.

When you managed to open the door, you immediately grabbed her hand and entered the house, impatiently dragging her up the stairs to your room, almost falling on the stairs making you squeal.

"Easy princess." She laughs putting hand on your waist to help you, and also at your impatience when you pull her behind you.

You bit your lip as you walked into your room, turning to face her. She immediately grabbed your hips smiling softly as you pulled yourself closer to her by holding her neck. Before you could do anything, her lips hit yours, kissing you eagerly until you barely catch up her moves. She slipped her jacket off of you, throwing it on your bed.

Feeling more and more excited, you lead walking backwards just for her to sit on your small enough couch for two. Before she could pull you onto her lap, you stopped her.

"Wait, I just have to turn on lights." You say making her wonder why would you think of it right now.

"You want to see me huh?" She tease smirking, looking at your body while you continue to walking to your desk to catch remote control for lights.

"Mhm sure." You roll your eyes sarcastically at her ego, walking back to her, focusing on buttons. She watches you step right in front of her so she took advantage of it and she put her hands around your legs pulling you closer so she can kiss your belly.

You giggle at her actions pressing the button to make the room shine with small light making cute atmosphere. You threw the remote control on the couch so you quickly climb onto her lap. You didn't have time to do anything because she immediately pulled you back into a kiss. You moaned into her lips feeling her hands traveling down on your body.

At first it was just hot make out but quickly it turned into sloppy kisses and Kate’s hands started to get really touchy with you like she wanted to take off all your clothes, which made you more needy.

You breathed into her ear when she started to kiss your neck intensively, while you took her hand and slowly lead it into your thigh.

"Woah. Are you sure?" She asked pulling away for a second just to make sure you want this. She ran her hand through your hair with affection. "We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready." Well, she wasn't expecting anything more, she wasn't even expecting a kiss, but apparently you're naughtier than she thought. She breathed, licking her lips, feeling herself slowly losing control of what she was doing. But she can hold back if you don’t want to do anything.

"Yes, I’m hundred percent sure." You whisper biting your lips when the lust kicks in, and suddenly everything about her makes you turned on. You two can barely breathe, because you’re so excited at this idea. You trust Kate and want it to be this time. Archer isn’t sure if this real. Girl from her dreams is right on top of her, and she wants more than just make out. "This is a perfect opportunity, and I can’t wait anymore Kate." You say quietly in almost begging tone.

"Okay." She says quietly chuckling and smiling slyly looking at you with love in her eyes before kissing you again.

She lets out a quiet growl when you moan into her lips, a blush running down her cheeks. You seem to have your way with her, as she leans back slightly and pulls you deeper onto her lap. Her hands slowly move back to your hips, her lips starting to kiss your neck and down to your collar bone. She smirk as she hear your whimpers in her ear then nibbling little on your neck and whisper seductively. "Am i turning you on, princess?" She knew this move would be exciting for you.

"Mm.." You hummed dreamingly, relaxing with her kisses on your neck, feeling worshiped by her lips. She came back to your lips kissing you passionately, as she began to massage your thigh with her one hand as you want. You bit her lip when her hand on your thigh squeezed you, and a moan falls out of your mouth. You do it on purpose knowing that she will find it hot and exciting.

"You are sensitive girl, are ya princess?" She asked playfully in low voice pulling away from your lips to look at your thighs, caressing them a little harder now just to hear your moans.

"Do you like the fact that I am sensitive girl?" You asked seductively and playfully as well with shaky voice. She bite her lip with a smirk tilting her head back to stop for a moment, because she can’t keep her mind straight when you act like this.

"Yes I do." She mumble hoarsely clenching her jaw while looking at you. You really driving her crazy. Her hand on your thigh going higher and higher, with her fingertips just about grazing the edge of your panties. She noticed your breathing get faster as her hand went higher. "If you want me to go higher you just have to ask." She smirk teasingly as her fingers tracing along the edge of your panties. She can tell that this material is expensive, but when you are hers now she will buy you even more expensive clothes and underwear than before.

"Please.. Just go higher." You pleaded breathlessly biting your lip in impatience. Her smirk grew at your words. She couldn’t wait so her fingers were on your clit through the material of your panties, her mouth going back to your lips. But you couldn’t quite kiss back because of that needy feeling between your legs, with her fingers playing along with you.

She feel your legs moving up against her, in an obvious attempt to move her fingers on your wet clit. "Are you sure this is what you want, my lady?" She whisper in low voice, her fingers still slowly moving on your panties. Kate don’t deny, but shes also not taking you at your word at this point. Shes teasing you, playing along with you, and she is loving it.

"Mhm.." You hum following her eyes, looking at her definitely bigger hand than yours disappearing in your in your skirt. You probably should change your panties. Or take them off.

"I’ll be gentle." She can tell from you that you're a little nervous because you've probably never done anything before with someone. Well, she can tell by your wet panties.

"I trust you." You whisper caressing the back of her neck with your hands. You rush to her lips, kissing her eagerly. While hot make out you feel Kate’s hand slip under your panties pushing them aside to cling to your clit. Your breathing is getting faster and shaky as her fingers start slowly moving on your clit making you whimpering at that feeling.

"Is it good?" She laughs slightly kissing your jaw, hearing how much you’re struggling to keep quiet. You think you’re in heaven when she make sure you’re touched enough and kissed by her. She could even use her mouth but she sees her fingers it’s enough for you this first time, so in the future she can use something else than fingers when you’ll be expecting more from her.

"Fuck." She growls feeling her fingers all in your juices, already knowing you’re close to coming. Her fingers were moving in you so quickly but it wasn’t enough for you so you began to ride on her fingers to get more pleasure.

She noticed you want more so she started to kiss your shoulders slowly to give you more attention. You groan in pitch voice feeling that amazing feeling in the bottom of stomach. She could see you are almost there so she slipped her fingers deeper trying to make sure you feel perfect.

"That’s it. Good girl." She whispers next to your ear kissing your neck slightly, as she hear your groan’s getting louder as you cum on her fingers. You felt amazing as her fingers were inside you, keeping yourself close to her holding by her neck.

She did not stop yet, but she didn’t want to make you feel overwhelmed so she pulled out her fingers after a few seconds seeing how your body is shaking.

You immediately rested your forehead on her shoulder to catch breath while cuddling up to her. Kate started to caress your waist keeping you closer while you trying to calm down.

"I think I’ll have to change my pants." She chuckle deeply as she can feel wetness soaking through the material of her pants and it’s all your fault. You giggle at her comment picking up your head to look at her with 'innocent' sorry look.

"And I’ll have to change me panties.." You say blushing hardly, as you can feel her eyes eating you. It’s kind of embarrassing that she can make you wet by just looking at you.

"Is that so?" She say in teasing voice squeezing your waist with her hands. You think you can melt under her touch.

"Yes, or maybe you want keep them with you?" You asked seductively in meaningful tone. She raised her eyebrow in surprise, but she don’t refuse at all.

"For sure. That’s my trophy." She chuckle with sly smile putting her hands on your ass squeezing your skin. You bite your lip rolling your eyes sarcastically at her comment and slapping her shoulder.

[wolftoken]

Ticklish

a/n: my friend needs comfort???? writers block GONE ❌ i love you @pastlives-pastlie

word count: 696 • tags: gn reader, fluff, cuddling, ticklish vessel, ticklish reader

• masterlist •

He’s tired, his head resting heavy in your lap and his eyes half-lidded. His hands are softly kneading your thighs while yours rest in his hair and on his jaw. Absentmindedly you gently massage his scalp, savouring the big sigh he lets out at the feeling. Nuzzling further into you, he brings his arms up to hold your waist and since he’s entirely too tall for the couch, his feet dangle off the edge of the armrest but he couldn’t care less because all he can think about is you, your warmth, your softness.

“Should we go to bed?” you whisper, not wanting to break the gentle atmosphere. Vessel doesn’t respond, just tightens his grip on your waist. You bring your hands down to cup his jaw so you can get him to look up at you, and his eyes shine softly in the low light and you feel a swarm of butterflies start to take flight in your stomach.

“You’re comfy,” is all he can muster. His voice is quiet and monotone like he can’t summon the energy to speak properly. He does this every time you end up cuddling on the couch late at night when he has to rearrange all his limbs in order to get comfortable and you know he’d be complaining about a sore neck or back tomorrow morning if you stay here. But getting him off of you is a challenge in and of itself, especially if he’s sleepy and unwilling to move.

“You can lay on me all night if you come to bed, Ves. But you’re gonna be sore tomorrow if we stay here.”

“M’warm. Bed’s cold,” is his reply, muffled by the way his face is pressed into you.

You sigh, but a smile creeps its way onto your face nonetheless. He’s adorable even when he’s being annoying, it’s terrible. How are you supposed to survive in these conditions? He’s draped over you like a big sack of flour with insistent hands. But then you remember one thing that will get him up no matter how cozy the situation is.

Your nimble fingers find themselves at his sides and mercilessly tickle him and the reaction is almost instant.

His gleeful yelping is probably not what the neighbours want to hear at 11:45 at night but they sound so beautiful to you, especially if it’s what gets him up and moving. Only problem is, you forgot he can retaliate. His hands are much bigger than yours and can cover a larger span of sensitive skin and it feels so so good to laugh with him like this even if you can barely breath and you’re both writhing so much you’re sure to fall off the couch in a minute.

“Ves- fuck! I just want you to come to bed! Please-“ you can barely get the words out past the breathless giggling but he understands you just fine.

“Oh really? You want me to come to bed with you after you’ve viciously attacked me and disturbed my peaceful slumber? Hmm?”

Words seem you fail you as his hands find even more skin to tickle, each spot more sensitive than the last and you’re both teary-eyed and red in the face until he stops. You can tell he’s thinking about starting it again when he bites his lip and stifled a giggle, but he refrains, knowing he can get away with more tickling tomorrow when both of you are wide awake.

“Fine, you win. Let’s go to bed,” he smiles, begrudgingly getting up from on top of you and pulling you with him. He sees your hands creep down to his ribs and the mischievous smile on your face and raises his eyebrow at the sight.

“You’ve fallen victim to my hands once, you will fall again,”

“You talk like some sixteenth century knight sometimes,” you reply, retreating your ready-to-attack hands and opting to hold his instead.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come to bed or you’ll fall asleep on the couch,” he grins.

“You are awful!” you laugh, following closely behind him to your bedroom. You should definitely wake up him with more tickling tomorrow.

[zuppizup]

Touch

July 5th: Hands/Touch-starved

The pain never leaves. Not really. Some days are better than others, of course. She's busy or distracted, or the burn is just dull enough that she can ignore it, but really, she doesn't think there's been a day in over two years where her wrist hasn't hurt.

It burns now, hot and obtrusive, pushing her to twist and turn in a cycle she knows is pointless. Only distraction will ease this ache, and lying in a bedroll, hoping desperately to catch perhaps a few more hours sleep before sunrise, there is precious little distraction.

She’d have given up, if she were alone. Accepted that sleep would be impossible for now, and at least tried to make some kind of use of her early start, but Callum is sleeping soundly beside her, and he deserves to rest.

Huffing, she blinks past frustrated tears. All she wants is to sleep; to have one day of peace but she knows this persistent pain is more than a fair price. She was the one who bound herself to this sentence and ultimately it is less than what she should be serving.

After all, she's lucky to even have her hand.

“Rayla, are you awake?”

She starts at the sound of Callum’s voice, cursing herself for waking him. “Not really,” she tries to reassure him. “Just trying to get comfy.” She turns, smiling reassuringly at him.

“What's wrong?” Callum shuffles a little closer to her, frowning.

“Nothing.” Her breath catches in her throat while she scrambles for something to say. It’s a stupid thing to complain about, small and petty, but she is too distracted by the pain and the lack of sleep to come up with something believable, something less pathetic.

“Rayla,” he sounds disbelieving. Maybe even disappointed. He’s shuffling closer to her, giving her an opportunity. An opening.

Trust.

“My wrist is bothering me,” she sighs, not wanting him to worry about this minor thing.

Callum's face falls, illuminated by the dying embers of their campfire.

“It’s nothing,” she quickly insists, instinctively rubbing the aching joints as she waves him off with a waggle of her fingers.

Sighing, Callum looks unconvinced. “Is there anything I can do? An ice spell?”

Rayla smiles at him, mind taken off the pain a little by his questions and concern. “It’s fine. This helps.” She raises her wrist to show him how she’s cradling it with her other hand. “Cold weirdly makes it burn more.”

Callum frowns again, eyes on where she’s clutching her arm. “Heat helps though?”

“Yeah-” Rayla responds instinctively before she registers he’s removing his gloves and reaching for her. “It’s- Don’t worry, really. You need your sleep-”

“My hands are a lot bigger than yours.” Callum smiles softly at her. “And I’ve also got two.” He nods expectantly at her wrist, shuffling his bedroll a little closer to hers.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Rayla blushes as she extends her hand. Which is probably dumb. They’ve held hands since she came back. Touched and hugged and that.

He’s just warming her wrist.

Still, she cannot quell the butterflies when he wraps his deliciously warm hands around her aching wrist.

He rubs gently, fingers moving softly over her arm, slipping under the cuff of her tunic and across her skin. He holds her hand close to his face, his warm breath ghosting across her palm for a moment before he presses his lips against the back of her hand.

“Better?” He smiles expectantly at her, still caressing her wrist as he holds her hand close to his chest.

She thinks she can feel the rapid thump of his heartbeat as he does so.

“Better.” It comes out barely above a whisper.

He provides a more than adequate distraction.

[baohanhanesel]

Valeria Garza x Reader Vargas

You, Alejandro's sister, are in a party, hoping to stay out of your brother's sight. Because gods above know if you get caught in a party, you won't hear the last of it.

You usually don't prefer involving in such social events, you are more of a loner than a social butterfly. You are a nervous wreck inside that reserved exterior. Your brother has always been the party guy.

Alejandro was more social, easier to get along with despite his temper. You were more of the silent sibling. An introvert who just wanted to try something new!!

When you first set foot in the loud club, you were a bit hesitant. The sight of confident people who had a few drinks in already made you nauseous. Maybe this wasn't the brightest idea you had... But you were positive you needed to socialize a little. And what better way to do it other than attending a party? You squeezed yourself through the doors and finally landed yourself by the barstools. You sat down, and started to look around. So this was what Alejandro has been so enthusiastic about. Honestly, you did see the appeal. Pretty people despite the loud itchy music, you could see yourself coming here again.

In thirty minutes, you finally managed to buy yourself a cocktail. It wasn't anything fancy, it was a virgin cocktail. Helping yourself to alcohol in a new environment wouldn't be very wise of you, so you just took generous sips of your sweet drink. Watching the confident dancing figures in the middle of the dance floor, you were jealous of that amount of confidence and skill. Your eyes wandered on various figures, trying to take in the environment and get used to the feeling.

"Can I sit with you, pretty thing?"

You downright jumped in your seat, eyes meeting the source of the velvety voice who just spoke. You blinked once, twice. You didn't expect anyone else to approach you.

"Oh, uhm. Of course. Not waiting on anyone." You smiled awkwardly, was it necessary that you mentioned you weren't waiting for anyone? Well... It was late to change that now.

"Drinking by yourself? Would you mind if I join?"

The woman was boosting with confidence, and you liked that. You nodded, offering her your most genuine smile despite the embarrassment crawling on your face. Bright red cheeks making their appearance.

"No, not at all. I'd be delighted."

The woman orders herself a glass of tequila after settling down next to you, eyeing you up and down and sizing you up. Suddenly you feel more like a prey than anything. Was it smart to just accept an invitation from a stranger for a drink? It was too late for that as well!!

"Names Valeria." The woman smiles, leaning down on the bar counter and taking a sip from her drink.

You can't help but find the sight very alluring. Valeria is beautiful.

"Oh," you chuckle, and then introduce yourself as well. You tell your name, not sharing your surname for the balance.

"Like your dress, chiquita. You sure you aren't here with anyone?"

"Thank you." You take a breath. This woman doesn't have any friendly intentions, you can notice. You should probably cut this interaction short. You are not even a lesbian. "I just wanted to enjoy the environment." You add after, taking bigger sips from your sweet drink and seeing the end of it.

"Let me help with it? That's a virgin cocktail, yeah?"

"yeah." You blink. What is happening.

Valeria turns to the bartender and orders you a drink. The drink you got in thirty minutes comes in front of her within a minute or two. Seems you wouldn't be going home very soon.

Laughter erupts from your seat, you can't help but engage in more conversations with Valeria. Valeria is a smart woman, and she is so charming with her words as well. She knows exactly what to tell you.

"You are such a darling," You keep on laughing, in your fourth drink. "But that's really enough for me. Thank you for your company, Valeria."

Valeria is all about smiles, she's been getting closer to you during the night. Each drink, she would come closer to you and offer her arm around your back.

"Thank you too, I would be bored out of my head without you," Seems Valeria was having a good time too. "Even so, I really want to have a repeat to this. Can I get your number?"

You stop. Everything freezes. Shit. You shouldn't have stayed this long, how are you supposed to get out of this situation? This beautiful woman is just so smart, thoughtful, and charming. How can you let her down. You are not even a lesbian. You shouldn't have let yourself engage with Valeria. Now you have to let her down. But how could you?

All you can do is nod.

Valeria gets her phone out, and then slides it on the table in front of you.

You look down at the digits and dial your number in her phone.

"Would it be okay if I called you same time next week?" Valeria's confident words carry you out of your damn mind. You should probably give her the wrong number. But no, that's so rude. Does it even matter if you are rude to a stranger, you can't decide that either. You are too nervous to make a quick decision. It is best you get out of here quickly without further steps into... whatever this is.

You eventually add yourself into Valeria's contacts with your name and surname. She did say she was a busy woman during your second drink, so she surely knows more people with your name. You don't want to confuse her.... Why don't you want her to confuse you with someone else, you'll think about it later.

"Sounds lovely." You say instead, making Valeria smirk wider. Gods, you wish you were at least drunk because there is no justifying your thoughts about Valeria.

When Valeria glances down at her phone, she sees your name.

"Vargas." Valeria stops, then starts to laugh. That laugh doesn't sound like the previous sweeter ones. This one is more of a joyful, amused, and maybe even mocking laugh. "See you next week." She says instead.

While you walk home, all you can think about is her. Valeria is such a beautiful and charming woman. Her confident and naturally leading personality makes you want to kick a wall. You exhale, hoping to hear from Valeria... Why? It brings you only more anxiety to think about what should come after. You should probably let her down in your next meeting... That if you will ever have one.

Well, you can definitely think about the attractive woman later... For now you should sneak into your house without letting your military trained brother notice. You don't give even the slight chance that Alejandro won't notice, but you'll try your chances.

"Where were you." Comes the loud voice of Alejandro, while you sit in your phyjamas on the kitchen counter. At least he fed you before starting the questioning.

"In a party."

To your answer, Alejandro grins. After a moment of silence, he notices you were not joking.

"Wait, seriously?"

You nod in response, stuffing your mouth with the leftover dinner.

Alejandro takes a moment longer to register what you just said, then his annoying smirk gets wider. Teasing, even. You know what is coming next. You hope he doesn't voice it out loud.

"Met anyone? At least text me if you want to spend the night in a hotel."

You roll your eyes, but then your mind wanders somewhere else despite the empty teasing of your brother. You... And Valeria could have ended up in a hotel. You quickly scratch that idea, cheeks flushing red with humiliation. You really wish you were drunk, at least you'd have a reason to think such obscene things then.

"Yes actually."

"You keep surprising me," Alejandro calls your name, nudging you to spill. "What's the name."

You have nothing to hide. And besides, if you give the woman's name he will stop teasing you and understand you just made a female friend. No male danger in sight. So you shrug.

"Valeria."

You did expect your brother's smile to fade, but you didn't expect it to fade this fast.

"Excuse me?!" Comes the loud voice of the guy in front of you, his eyes spoke louder somehow... He was pissed.

[ivoryghostyy]

「 image, not mine. sourced from pinterest. 」

「 note: previously known as "love bite" and this is the actual revamp of the oneshot. "destined pair" feels too different from the original, so here's something closer. have fun. ^^ 」

「 tw: possessive, mentions of blood, non-consensual biting, non-consensual drinking of blood, slightly suggestive?, implications of stalking, violence — read with caution, i guess. 」

a dark chuckle reverberates through the winding hallways, filling you with a sinking sense of dread.

"come now, you can't hide from me. while i do enjoy this little game of chase, i'm beginning to lose my patience."

you do your best to calm the erratic pace of your heart, but the pressure is getting to you. you're bleeding out, for god's sake. for all you knew, you wouldn't make it out of this alive.

'how comforting,' you thought, as you basked in your own bitter notions. your mind blanks, however, when you finally notice the footsteps resounding nearby.

they're quiet—you barely heard them—but they're close.

dangerously close.

your first mistake was exposing yourself so soon. it was meant to be a quick mission: locate the target and take him down. but he had noticed you too early—almost instantly, as if he knew the whole time.

that should have been enough of a reason for you to back out, as even the slightest risk could lead to your death. you're dealing with vampires, after all.

yet, absurdly, you continued on.

why? somehow, you didn't know either. 'could be the alcohol. or perhaps, there was something bigger at play here. regardless, you kept your pace, staying at a distance and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

which, to be honest, took a lot longer than you expected. if only you could simply kill the witnesses, too.

he was a social butterfly, easily getting along with every person he conversed with. but then again, why wouldn't he? he manages a large organization, after all. with a handsome grin, he knocked everyone's guards down, leaving them completely vulnerable to his charms.

he's beautiful, you'll give him that.

after a while, he excuses himself, and you tail after him. as an experienced hunter, you've learned to mask your presence; to hide within the shadows cast beneath the soft moonlight.

it was going smoothly.

until it wasn't.

he stopped, turning his head to meet your alarmed gaze. it was brief, but it was enough for you to know: he knew you were there.

ruh-roh raggy.

you knew that playing ignorant wouldn't work on him. you've read his files—despite them highly lacking in details. he does a good job of keeping his information confidential—it's practically part of his job to find out if someone's lying or not!

seduction? he may be hot, but really, all you want to do right now is go to sleep. you are not getting laid tonight. really?

'alright, plan C it is.'

you booked it.

cursing under your breath, you ignore the painful ache of your poor feet. you'll be fine, probably. this isn't your first rodeo. for the record, you've once managed to escape with a broken leg, a stab wound, and a splitting headache. this should be easy! don't be so complacent, dear. plot armour can only do so much.

his looming figure casts a shadow over your guarded frame.

"there you are."

you're stuck. trapped between two unwavering arms as he grinned cheekily at you. his eyes are dilated, and he looks almost.. intoxicated.

"i warned you, didn't i? you can't hide from me, fawn."

fawn.

what a stupid nickname. you sneer.

"i'm impressed, really. not many can land a hit on me."

he refers to the healing cut on his chest, the wound beginning to weave itself back together.

righr now, you couldn't do much. with a bleeding gash running from along your hips, you're basically screwed. your hand clutches the wound, blood trickling through your palm as you struggle to apply enough force to your trembling hand.

god, you feel so weak. his eyes pull you into a trance-like state, and you're barely able to hold yourself together. he leans down with an angelic curl to his lips, reaching up to stroke your cheek.

"how cute. 'still resisting, dear? my, you're quite stubborn."

you grumble under your breath. unfortunately for you, he hears it. glowing optics bore right into you, and for a moment, you thought he'd kill you right then and there.

to your surprise, however, he simply chuckles. you release a breath of relief, shivering from the hot puff of air that brushes your neck.

then you wheeze; a pained gasp fumbling out of your lips as he slams you against the wall. a rough hand curls around your throat, sharp nails poking your skin—that should be enough of a warning to keep you still.

"now," your eyes trail to the side as you shift;

but he moves in, lips only an inch away from yours.

"ah-ah, what are you looking at, fawn? i don't want your attention straying. your gaze is meant only for me."

"shut up, you i-insufferable-" you cough, lightly gasping when the grip on your throat tightens.

"-oversized mosquito!"

…

goddamn it-

"pfft-"

his eyes crinkle as he laughs, and you're completely stunned; mesmerized by how genuine he sounds. seriously, has this guy considered making asmr videos?

"oversized mosquito? is that supposed to be an insult?"

his grip loosens for a moment, but he regains his composure before you can make a move. fuck vampires and their inhuman speed.

"i quite like you. you've always been an entertaining little fawn." he pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his handsome features before he smirks. "i've decided, i'll be keeping you." it shouldn't be a problem. you've always been his.

he smiles, but his eyes are dimly lit, glinting ominously.

"what!? no-" he interrupts you, a sharpened nail digging into the skin of your neck, drawing a few drops of blood.

"i don't think you heard me. see,"

he guides you impossibly closer. his lips now only mere centimetres away from yours. his thumb trails along your jaw as the other wanders up the skin of your thigh, landing on the small of your back. his touch leaves a trail of heat, a shiver crawling up your spine.

"i wasn't asking, fawn."

and in the next moment, you're pinned against the wall. he leans his weight against you, pulling your hands behind your back. his fangs graze your neck, and you can feel your heart beating frantically.

"i'll have you, even if i have to break you in the process."

the dread settles in, and for the first time in years, you're filled with pure, unadulterated fear.

"shh, don't worry, dear. the pain is only for a moment."

you're scared. he's going to bite you. he's going to bite you. as a last-ditch attempt, you move to stun him.

"stay still."

he's quicker.

fangs sink into your skin, and you whimper at the pain. the feeling of your blood being drained, of the unbearable sting of his fangs in your neck, you almost cry from the agonizing discomfort.

but this isn't what you fear the most. no, this doesn't even come close. you're not scared of pain; half your life was spent with pain playing the role of a clingy lover.

what you fear.. is what comes next.

pleasure.

you can't succumb to it. you can't! you can still take him down with what little strength you have left. you need to resist-

his fanks sink deeper, lulling the ache away and replacing it with a heated embrace. your tense muscles relax, and you stifle a guttural moan at the growing heat in your abdomen.

your instincts fight against the sedative effects, still trying to pull you out from drowning in pleasure.

wake up, goddamn it! he'll kill you!

breathing heavily, you once again struggle against his hold, forcing yourself to shove him off.

his jaw clenches, and you flinch. his hand pulls you closer, pressing against your stomach, causing a wave of heat to course through your trembling frame.

you feel so sensitive; almost like you're drunk on aphrodisiac.

as all fight leaves you, an open moan flittering through your lips. your eyebrows furrow. you don't feel the need to resist anymore.

why would you? you're safe with him. he is all you need.

your limbs grow heavy. why're you so tired? you groan, leaning your head back as he moves away. your wobbly legs can barely hold you up, so he takes the liberty of pulling you into his arms.

he grins in content, licking off the stray blood on your neck. you shiver, clutching the fabric of his clothes. 'you're so adorable. all vulnerable and dazed in his hold,' he muses to himself. you're disoriented, unable to think clearly as you nuzzle into his chest.

"look at you, darling. safe and warm, right here with me."

he'll make sure to take care of you. he's not just watching from afar anymore; now, you're finally in his arms.

'finally, mine.'

[thefallennightmare]

I Guess I'm in Love [one shot]

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 764. Short but lovely.

Warnings: pure and disgusting amount of fluff with a tiny bit of implied smut.

Summary: Bucky can't help but reflect on his love for Reader on their lazy Sunday afternoon.

Authors Notes: So this is a request that @playboystark sent in forever ago and I'm finally finding a few minutes to write it. I hope you like it! This will be in Bucky's P.O.V. and it's based on the song I guess I'm in love by Clinton Kane so give it a listen to get the full effect!

The soft breeze blew through our opened window, dancing with the long curtains, as I laid in bed with her head on my chest, fingernails trailing down the bareness of my skin. I held her tighter, her smell engulfing my sense of smell and I fluttered my eyes shut at the familiarity. 

Roses. She knew how much of a sucker I was for that smell and made everything about her that smell. 

There was a tune playing throughout the speakers in our shared home as I adjusted the sheets over our naked bodies, the actions of our lazy Sunday replaying in my mind. 

I found myself becoming obsessed with the feeling of her head on my chest and she carefully traced the scars on my shoulder where flesh met vibranium. She knew about my past, everything I had done as The Winter Soldier, and even if I hated myself for it, she didn’t. She loved everything about me, the good and bad. There were plenty of times she could have left after many nights of nightmares but she refused. 

Her love for me was bigger than the tragic memories. 

I had lost hope after Steve left to go back in time, leaving me alone. But when she came into my life, hope began to fill my veins; hope for a happy ending finally. I never believed I deserved one but she began to prove me wrong. 

Any time I began to over think any small thing, I looked into her bright eyes and I couldn't stop myself from catching a breath because she made me lose it all over again. When I look at her, that’s the end of all of the bad thoughts.

Years together and I can’t stop the nervousness or butterflies in my stomach when we stare at one another. 

Her soft lips kissed the scars, something she had always done, and I wrapped my arms tighter around her while my own lips brushed a kiss to her forehead. The smile that graced her beautiful features awoke those damn butterflies once more. 

It had been years of loneliness and heartbreak but the second she came into my life, everything changed. She worked at the local coffee shop and was there every time I had gone in for a coffee and to read. After the second time, she had memorized my order. 

Small black coffee with a chocolate croissant. 

The moment I realized I was in love with her was when she had my order waiting for me, seconds before I arrived at the shop. 

She had become everything I wanted when I thought I couldn’t find anyone. 

Her petite fingers traced the graying stubble along my chin and I fell into the touch, a large smile on my face.

“We should probably get up,” I muttered against her hairline. “Alpine hasn’t been fed.” 

She groaned while burying her face deep into my neck. “But I’m comfy.” 

A sly smirk pulled at my lips. “How about I bend you over the bed and fuck that pretty little hole again?” 

Her eyes met mine, lips parting as she mimicked a fish, the words feeling foreign on her lips. 

God, I love the way she couldn’t find the words to say. 

Our Sunday afternoon had drifted fast into the night and we were seated on the floor of our living room, two large pizza boxes that were empty sat a few feet from us. The television played one of her favorite movies but that did nothing to stop her from fidgeting, her nerves getting the best of her. 

“Doll, you need to sit still. It’ll be alright,” I assured her with a squeeze to her knee. 

She shook her head. “I can’t! We leave tomorrow for Greece and I suddenly remembered there’s a list of things to get done.” 

We had this vacation planned for years and now that it was fast approaching, she was a nervous wreck. But I didn’t mind. I was so in love with her that I would run anywhere with her because the two of us were enough. 

“Come here,” I pulled her into my chest with my vibranium arm and she quickly melted into my embrace. 

Whenever we were in one another’s arms, it felt like home. No matter where we were. Everything I had gone through in my life, good or bad, I knew it was all worth it because it led me to her. 

We shared a deep kiss, one that others would say belonged to two people who were so in love with each other.

[lostsyren]

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ the vip life 🍸🌺🍹 ・。.・✭・.

{word count: 2.1k}

{summary: a look into rafe and sofia’s thoughts at the party in season 3 episode 7 & a bit of context to their relationship}

{part 2: here}

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ “So this is the VIP life huh?” Sofia smiled over the red lip of her solo cup. She watched with sparkling eyes as Rafe smirked down at her, glancing around, before he answered.

“Hmn Yeah.”

Sofia had a lot of kooks who’d frequented the bar to try their lines on her, but they never took it further than that, always returning to their golf games, never to look her way again. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt. Moving to the Outer Banks a couple months ago from Mexico had been hard…lonely. She’d only made one friend so far. So when this good looking guy, eyes the colour of the ocean, smile bright and winning, had approached her for the second time, she was taken aback… ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Sofia right?” He’d said.

She was ducked under the bar, placing new stock away into shelves. Hearing her name, she jumped up with a sigh, quickly plastering on a smile.

“That’s me,” she chirped, putting on her customer service voice, “can I help you with anything?”

Rafe just laughed softly, eyes roaming her face, trailing down to her body. She prickled with confusion.

“You don’t have to speak like that with me, I thought we were chill.”

He was talking about their conversation earlier. As he asked for a glass of whiskey the two exchanged a couple words. He asked her for her name. She told him it, and then he said ‘thank you for the drink’. But that was it.

Now as the sun sank in the sky, the clouds tinged with orange and pink, he’d approached her again, whilst she unloaded stock behind the bar.

“Oh, hi I didn’t know it was you.” Her shift was ending soon and she was drained. She probably looked it too.

“My name is Rafe by the way.”

“Okay….” She said, quirking her eyebrow in confusion.

What was this? Despite being on the island for less than 4 months, she was aware of the discourse between the ‘kooks’ and ‘pogues’. The people who swarmed the country club were ‘Kooks’, which meant the people serving them were ‘Pogues’. So what was this Kook boy doing talking with her just as the bar was about to close?

Rafe chuckled tensely, hand palming the back of his neck.

Was he nervous?

“Is everything ok?” Sofia asked, mouth furrowing into a concerned frown.

“Yeah no– I’m good. I just wanted to say I’m having a party on Saturday. You should come.”

Oh.

“Huh?” She said, struggling to comprehend.

“Yeah, just give me your number so I can text you the address.”

And that’s how she ended up in Tannyhill, with Rafe Cameron’s arm slung around her shoulder.

The size of the house alarmed her, the huge white edifice looming over the landscape as she pulled up to his driveway, seemingly getting bigger as she approached it.

“You wanna see some more?” Rafe said, voice low. Tone suggestive.

Sofia’s stomach flipped, “yeah I’m down.”

“Great news, that’s great news, I’ll give you the grand tour,” he teased, pulling her into his body with his arm. Sofia laughed melodically, letting him lead her inside, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The two slotted perfectly against each other, Sofia relishing the way he found every opportunity to touch her. She knew he probably only wanted to sleep with her. But she didn’t care– she also wanted the same. He was hot. Enthralling. Undeniable. For a moment she could pretend like she was one of the girls at the country club– not just its bartender.

They were about to enter, before she felt Rafe’s hand slide down her back. She turned to look up at him.

“Just give me like five minutes. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

She nodded, noticing how his hand seemed to linger on her lower back.

“Ok,” she smiled, exiting the balcony.

Sofia roamed the house, not really knowing much of the people there. She offered a couple of smiles, but not many people reciprocated them. She followed Rafe’s instructions and headed upstairs. The girls all seemed to throw her chary, frigid looks, casting whispers to their friends as she walked past. Sofia felt her skin turn red, feeling the scrutiny pierce her. She pushed the sensation away, hoping that Rafe would be quick.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Barry’s words left a stirring disquiet in his stomach.

The hint that he needed to remove Ward off the battlefield, as Barry had put it, swirling about in his mind.

Rafe downed his drink, letting the crystal glass clatter onto the table as he got up in a huff.

“Have fun Country Club,” Barry jeered, as he left the balcony, mood soured. He headed upstairs to Sofia. His nerves were frayed and Barry hadn’t helped, now his mind migrating elsewhere. Somewhere dark.

Despite his playboy persona, his exaggerated swagger and intense ostentation, Rafe hadn’t been like this in years. After what had happened to the Sheriff, he put the hedonism of house parties and the company of girls behind him, too consumed by a festering guilt.

But he was past that now. He could enjoy himself again.

He reached the top of the stairs. This floor was empty, the noise of the party filtering up from downstairs. He spotted her. She was standing by the table with all the framed photographs of the Cameron family, of them as kids, of them at Midsummers. He watched as she ran a finger through the dust coated picture frames, picking one of them up with a small smile. Rafe roiled with anticipation.

He supposed that was why he asked Sofia to come. He could’ve had any kook girl of his choosing, but he was afraid. He knew word got around in the country club circles– the pressure would be too much. Besides, most of them were mean. Vapid. Obsessive.

Sofia seemed sweet. He could tell she hadn’t been in the Outer Banks long since she didn’t know who he was. He liked that. There wasn’t any expectation for him to fulfil. Or for him to disappoint. By being Rafe Cameron…Whatever that meant.

He inhaled a short, sharp breath and approached her, slipping a hand around her waist from behind, “hey.”

Sofia jumped up slightly, letting out a little gasp, “oh my god you scared me,” she laughed spinning around to face him.

“Oh yeah? What are you doing snooping about my house then, Miss Sofia?” He teased, slotting his other hand around her waist too.

“Just looking at the pictures. You were cute as a kid.” Her smile was big and her eyes were shiny, the irises almost lined with gold. They reminded him of how the Cross of Santo Domingo burned in the fire. Golden and bright.

Fuck she was gorgeous– Rafe thought– especially for a Pogue.

“And what about now?” He probed.

He could see her eyes dilate, “still cute.”

Rafe felt his heartbeat waver.

“I’ll show you to my room.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Sofia walked into the vast space, the four post bed sprawling and plush, damask drapes lining each window, the chandelier casting light refractions across the creamy walls as the sunset spilled in through the glass.

“Woah.” Was the only thing she could say.

Rafe laughed softly behind her, shutting the door as he entered.

“Let me take that from you.” He said as he neared her, swiping the red solo cup out of her hand and placing it on the bedside table. She obliged, eyes tailing him, an amalgam of excitement and anxiety brimming in her.

The sun was setting, the sky getting dusky with the heady glow of late summer, the room awash in the colours of twilight. Sofia could see Rafe’s eyes shine darkly as he looked down at her.

“How did you find the party then?” He asked.

She smiled once again, finding it hard not to, “I had fun. Thanks for the invite.”

“That’s good– I’m glad. Uh you wanna sit down?”

Sofia nodded, letting him lead her to the side of the bed. Rafe seemed different now. The sharp confidence from before was replaced with a care and softness that surprised her.

The two were silent for a while, the music from the party sounding faint and far away and the soft shadows of the room felt warm and fuzzy. Rafe placed a gentle hand on her knee, contrasting the quick and easy ways he’d touched her throughout the day. This was deliberate.

“Can I…” he started.

Sofia nodded, “please do,” her voice close to a whisper.

His fingers inched up her thigh, his touch light like gossamer, trailing up to the strands tying her bikini cover up. He tugged them lazily, letting the fabric fall. Sofia’s chest rose and fell as she tried to level her breathing, watching Rafe with lidded eyes. His gaze roamed her body hungrily, the pupils growing darker.

His hands then moved to the side of her face, tucking the stray strands of hair behind her ear. Rafe inched closer towards her, finally bridging the gap with a slow kiss, Sofia feeling her skin prickle in expectation.

Her hand shot to his face, cupping his cheek as he deepened the kiss, whilst pulling down the fabric of her dress, until she was left in nothing but her red bikini.

Rafe’s face lit up, the slow and deliberate movements giving way to a quick and fervid desperation as he swiped his polo shirt off in one swift manoeuvre, capturing Sofia in his arms and placing her head on the pillow as he caged her body with his.

She gasped at the sudden change in pace, looking up at him with a doe eyed expression.

“Sorry,” he murmured, confusing her countenance for fear.

“Don’t apologise, just come here,” she said with a dopey smile, pulling him into a kiss, as she hooked her arms around his neck.

“As you wish, Miss Sofia,” he teased, smiling against her lips at the nickname he’d given her.

His body was flush against hers, the two of them getting lost in a heady bubble of ecstasy as the party continued on downstairs.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The sun had set completely, the sky dark and the stars out. Rafe switched on a lamp, lying back in bed with his arms behind his head. Sofia was in the shower, the faint sound of water running the only thing he could hear in the room.

Everyone had left, the music had stopped. It was just them in the house. But despite how much fun he’d had with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about the inkling in his head– Ward needed to be gone.

The door to the en-suite creaked open, Sofia entering the room wrapped in a towel, rivulets of water running down her skin. She gave a smile, which Rafe reciprocated, sitting up on his elbow. He pushed away the dark thoughts that had wormed into his brain and honed on to her. She walked over to her discarded bikini and cover, picking the flimsy material up.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower.” She said sweetly.

“No problem.” Rafe replied.

“I guess I’ll be heading home then.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “what?”

“Yeah, I’ll get out of your way.”

Rafe got up out of bed, pulling on his boxers, “it’s late. You’ve had a couple of drinks. Just stay the night.” He walked past her towards his wardrobe, pulling out a clean shirt and handing it to her. “Here you can wear this.”

Sofia eyed the shirt. Then flicked her gaze up to him.

“You sure?”

He laughed softly, slightly puzzled, “yeah of course.”

Sofia accepted the shirt, giving him a funny look.

“I’ll look away. You get changed.” He said, walking back to the bed as she slipped it on.

She climbed in bed not soon after, lying down with a sigh.

“You’re not like how I thought you’d be.” She mused, glancing over to him quietly.

Rafe’s breath hitched, “is that a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Good. Definitely good.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rafe had fallen asleep. His back was turned to her, his soft breaths ebbing and flowing in the silence. She examined the constellation of freckles on his shoulders, scared to trace her finger through them in case he woke up. She turned around, lying face up to the ceiling.

Rafe Cameron confounded her. Even in sex, he’d flit from gentle to rough. From soft to callous. His fingers would grip her skin before dissolving into the most tender of touches. She’d feel his teeth clash against her own, before he slipped into a mellow pace, trailing his lips across hers like a feather. And now– wasn’t this a hookup? That’s the impression she got. So why was he being so….kind?

She was exhausted; Rafe really had tired her out. She fell into dreams soon after, the sumptuous bed sheets and silken pillows making it easy, the comforting presence of Rafe sleeping beside her making it even easier.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･