#and it really smarts at me to finally reach the light at the end of the tunnel and then have people act like it wasnt as bad as it was

[oflgtfol]

it is really unfortunate the way suicidality is talked about nowadays because it’s either all a joke so it’s hard to discuss in a serious capacity or it’s so upsettingly serious that you can’t even discuss it without fear of like being institutionalized

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini I want to fuck a demon boy so bad I can't. I'm so sleep deprived and this is the only thing on my mind. The idea of this powerful demon who's not used to being challenged, just ending up ass up face down on the floor, bed WHEREVER. It's not important. Ending up like that is just peak. Also I like to think they'd have sensitive tails. So. Like. I totally.

Wanna make them fuck themselves with their own tail. I think that'd be great. I think it would be awesome.

I want them to get so flustered at the idea of doing it, but do it anyway just coz I told them to. I can almost imagine them finding their own prostate with their tail, and really they can't decide which sensation to focus on. Feeling themselves clench around their own tail, or the way the slightly pointed end slams into their prostate. And bonus points if they cum and you overstim them by grabbing their tail and fucking them so much harder than they could themselves. Hooray, now they've got

your hand around their already much too sensitive tail

said sensitive tail is being slammed into their ass

it's gotta feel so good, they'd probably be so tight around themselves

your hand is gonna slip a few times, which is gonna end up in stroking their tail, which has got to feel like heaven for them

not to forget that you're thrusting their tails directly onto their prostate without letting them breathe

I just. I don't know. I think they'd look so pretty, flushed and begging to stop, even though it's them that keeps weakly trying to thrust their tail back into themselves. Also, they'd look so pathetic, sobbing from the overstimulation. I'm a sucker for tears trailing down their faces, eyes red and a little puffy. It'd almost make you wanna be nice to them. Almost.

But yknow, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And sometimes what a girl's gotta do is fuck a demon stupid with their own tail. (I don't have the same way with words as some people, but like do you see the vision)

~a sleep deprived,🧁anon

You are so smart holy shit. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Fucking a demon with their own tail? Why didn’t I think of something as great as this??! Lemme write down my thoughts for a sec- (btw I thought you are like, very religious?)

Dom!reader x sub!character

You had a long day behind you, and there was nothing sweeter than the thought of finally getting some sleep. All you wanted was to have a good rest, but to your demise you woke up in the middle of the night with something heavy on top of you. “Ops, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Oh well this will do too.” What the hell? It was a fucking person?? First thing you did was push him off of you and turning on the lights, then you thought this was some kind of weird joke. He had two horns growing out of his forehead, as well as a super long tail with a heart shaped tip. Not to mention the pink, glowing tattoo on his pelvis. When he opened his mouth again, you thought you didn’t hear right. “I’m an incubus, pleasant to meet you~ now let me feast on you, pretty please?”

An incubus, so, in other words a demon. What in the- never mind. He said he wanted to feast on you? Heck no, he woke you up in the middle of the night and is expecting you to have the energy to fuck him? As soon as he got up to try make a move on you, you flipped him over and tangled your hand in his hair, then pressed his face into your pillow. “If you are that desperate do it yourself.” Of course that little slut was into that.

He reached for his dick, but you slapped his hand away and instead grabbed his tail. “MhMngh- aaAAHhnn~!” A surprised yet blissful moan escaped him, face all red as lust fills their already sinful body. Anticipation swelling inside them at the thought of what you might do with them. That’s when they felt their own tail poking against their butt… wait wha? In the mean time you stroked it gently while whispering, “I want to watch you fuck yourself, who knows, I might reward you afterwards.” Suddenly all their previous confidence vanished as embarrassment took over. With their own tail..?? How did you even get that idea! Not even something as perverted as them had such outrageous ideas..!

In the end they could only obey without protesting, trusting their already super sensitive tail into their tight, wet hole. Each time they accidentally hit their prostate, they’d yelp and whimpers. Pretty tears are already rolling down their even prettier faces. Eyes half lidded as they whine, “mhm! Ah-ahhHh.. nghHnn~!!” All while their poor, useless dick is twitching around on its own, making a mess everywhere <3

Gojo, Sukuna, Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, jouno, Scaramouch, Kaeya, lyney, Ayato, Aventurine, Sampo, Jing Yuan (?), Douma - your favourites

[pucksandpower]

Bet on It

Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader

Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you

“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.

His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.

Which is every time he’s asked.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.

“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”

He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”

You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.

“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”

“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”

His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”

You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.

“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.

“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”

You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.

Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.

“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”

His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?

“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.

On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...

Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”

A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”

You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”

He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?

***

Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.

You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.

But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.

The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.

Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.

The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.

Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.

Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.

You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.

Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.

You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.

He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.

“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.

You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.

He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.

The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.

After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.

Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.

“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.

You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.

No matter how dreamy his eyes are.

***

The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.

Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”

You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.

During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.

Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.

After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.

You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.

When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.

Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.

One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.

When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.

Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.

This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.

The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.

At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.

When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.

Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”

Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.

You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”

***

The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.

You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.

Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.

“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.

Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.

Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.

Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.

Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.

The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.

You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.

“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.

You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”

Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”

Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”

He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.

Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”

With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.

“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.

He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.

Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.

And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.

***

After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.

You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.

A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.

You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.

“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.

A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.

You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”

“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.

You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”

Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.

You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”

That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.

When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”

He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.

“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.

The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.

His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.

You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”

Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”

Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.

By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.

Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”

“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”

You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.

A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.

[itneverendshere]

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (three) - finale

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"

pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader.

warnings: more angst <3; part one here; part two

Staying away from Rafe was hard.

It was hard before you two tried to be friends and it’s even harder now that you gave him the no-contact ultimatum. Everywhere you went, it felt like he was there, even if he wasn’t. It was in the songs that played on the radio, in the way the sun set over the patio near your dorm, in the way his, now yours, shirts still smelled like him. 

You missed the late-night conversations, the way he’d laugh at your jokes, and how he could read you better than anyone else. But more than anything, you missed the way he made you feel—even if it wasn’t real at first. 

Every time your phone buzzed, you stupidly hoped it was him, even though you knew it wouldn’t be. You’d told him to stop, to leave you alone, and he had respected your boundaries even when it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. And you’re proud of him for it—for once, he’s doing something right. But you’re mostly proud of yourself too, for sticking to your decision, for not letting him back in so easily.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.

You thought giving yourself space would help you move on, help you figure out if you could ever really trust him again. But instead, it just left this space where he used to be. You kept wondering how much of it was real for him—if any of it was. Maybe that’s why staying away felt impossible because a part of you wanted to believe he meant some of it, that his feelings weren’t just part of some game. 

You had to draw the line, to protect yourself from getting hurt all over again. And even though it hurt to keep him out, you knew it was the only way you’d figure out what you really wanted, without him clouding your judgment.

You tried to move on.

Slowly, cautiously, you started going on dates—nothing serious, just enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that Rafe wasn’t the only guy who could make you laugh or feel special. Every few weeks, you’d let yourself get dressed up, put on a smile, and meet someone new.

The first date was awkward, more like a practice run than anything else. You spent most of it comparing the guy to Rafe, noticing all the little things that didn’t measure up. It wasn’t fair to the guy, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t Rafe, and that’s all you could focus on. You ended the night with a polite hug and a promise to text, but you knew you wouldn’t.

The second date was better, but not by much. The guy was nice, made you laugh a few times, but there was no spark, no connection that made you want to see him again. You tried to be present, to give him a chance, but your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to what he would say or how he would react to something. By the end of the night, you felt more exhausted than excited.

After that, you took a break. It was too soon, you told yourself. You weren’t ready to move on yet, and that was okay. 

Some days, you almost reached out to him. You’d pick up your phone, scroll through your messages, and your finger would hover over his name. It would be so easy to send a quick text, something casual, just to see how he was doing. But you never did. You knew that one message could ruinl everything you’d worked so hard to build—the distance, the boundaries, the fragile sense of self you were trying to protect.

Instead, you threw yourself into other things. Classes, the cheer squad, hobbies, anything to keep your mind occupied. You spent more time with friends, even though it was hard not to talk about him. You kept the conversations light, steering away from anything that would bring his name up. You didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t stop talking about their ex, who couldn’t let go, even if that’s exactly how you felt inside.

It helped, sometimes.

For brief moments, you’d find yourself genuinely laughing at a joke or losing yourself in a book or a project. But then something small would happen—a song on the radio, a glimpse of someone who looked like him, or the sound of his name in passing—and it would all come rushing back. It wasn’t fair. 

You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but each time it felt like a fresh wound. The memory of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he always knew just what to say—it was as if he left a ghost behind, haunting every corner of your life. And in those moments when you’d catch yourself smiling or feeling light, it was like a betrayal. How could you allow yourself to feel joy when he wasn’t there to share it?

It was like trying to run from a shadow that moved with you, always there, no matter how fast you tried to go.

Every time you thought about him, about how he had hurt you and how you were struggling to move on, it felt like stabbing at an old wound, hoping it would heal faster if you just made it worse. The reality was that you missed him in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

Running into him was inevitable. Despite your best efforts to avoid the places he might be, your college was too small, too intertwined with memories of him.

The first time you saw him after the ultimatum was at a party you had reluctantly agreed to attend. You spotted him across the room, laughing with his friends, looking just as carefree as ever. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and for a moment, you felt stuck to the ground. But then he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and the smile slipped from his face.

It was a small moment, one that no one else seemed to notice, but it felt like the all the air in your lungs had been sucked out. You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around you, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you.

The second time was worse.

You were at the grocery store, just trying to get through your day when you turned a corner and nearly collided with him. The shock of seeing him so close, so unexpectedly, made you want to disappear on the spot.

You both mumbled awkward apologies, neither of you really saying anything of substance, just trying to avoid the awkwardness. But then he asked how you were.

“I’m fine,” you replied, too quickly, too sharply. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

He nodded, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. You both stood there, trapped in a painful silence, before you finally made an excuse and walked away, leaving him standing there in the aisle.

After that, the encounters became more frequent. You saw him at the beach, in coffee shops, passing by on the street. Each time, it was the same—an awkward exchange, a few forced pleasantries, and then a quick retreat. It was like the universe was conspiring against you, refusing to give you the space you so desperately needed.

And each time, it hurt just a little bit more. Seeing him in these mundane, everyday moments, like nothing had changed, made it harder to keep up the distance you’d built. It reminded you of all the times when being around him had felt natural, easy, like he was just supposed to be there.

But the worst part was the way he looked at you. Jessica had told you before. He’d never looked at any girl like that. And you stupidly held onto that tiny hope even if you shouldn’t. 

You’d been trying to keep it together all night, but the sight of Jessica and Tyler laughing together, so effortlessly in love, was making you bleed inside. The drinks kept coming, one after another, until the room started to blur around you. You didn’t even notice how much you were drinking—only that it was easier to keep swallowing than to think about Rafe. 

But the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet your thoughts.

Instead, it seemed to amplify them, making everything feel sharper, more painful. Jessica and Tyler’s whispered words of affection, the way his hand rested on her thigh, the way she looked at him with pure adoration—You couldn’t stop thinking about how that should have been you and Rafe.  

By the time you realized you were too far gone, it was late. You stumbled as you stood up, the room spinning wildly around you. Someone—Jessica, maybe—asked if you were okay, but their voice was muffled, distant. You tried to nod, to say something reassuring, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing back into your chair.

"Whoa, easy there," Jessica’s voice was sharper now, filled with concern. She crouched down in front of you, her hands steadying you. “You’re not okay. We need to get you out of here.”

You tried to shake your head, to insist that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The room was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your vision was blurry, your limbs heavy, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were too drunk to take care of yourself. You couldn’t even stand up, let alone make it home.

Panic started to set in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to lose control like this. You weren’t supposed to need help.

“Jess… I’m fine…” The words slurred out of your mouth, but even you didn’t believe them.

“No, you’re not.” Jessica’s voice was firm now, almost authoritative. She glanced around, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The other girls were watching, their laughter fading into worried murmurs, “Baby, can you go and get her some water and sugar, please?”

She gently guided you to lean back, her hand on your shoulder to steady you. You tried to focus, tried to push through the fog in your mind, but everything was slipping away, your thoughts swirling together in a jumbled mess.

“Hey, stay with me, okay?” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. She wasn’t just a concerned friend at this moment; she was scared. You’d never seen her like this before. 

“I—” You started, but the words tangled in your throat. You wanted to tell her that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to ruin the night, that you just wanted to stop thinking about him for a couple of hours, but all that came out was a garbled sound that barely resembled a word.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her thumb brushing lightly against your arm. “We’ll get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Tyler returned with the water and sugar, and Jessica took the glass, trying to get you to drink. The water felt cool against your lips, but swallowing was harder than it should’ve been. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Come on, just a little more,” Jessica urged. You managed a few more sips before the glass slipped from your grasp, water sloshing onto your lap.

“Jess, I—” You tried again, but before you could finish, you heard another voice, one that sent a jolt through your foggy mind.

He was there, right in front of you, and you knew it was him without needing to open your eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter. He crouched down, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“She had too much to drink,” Jessica explained quickly, her tone defensive, as if she expected him to start blaming her. “We were just about to get her out of here.”

You tried to smile, to play it off like it was no big deal, but all that came out was a shaky breath. “Too much… too much, Rafe…”

“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. He turned to Jessica, his voice all business now. 

You didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Was your brain torturing you? Making you believe he was there?

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt down beside you, his hands grabbing your trembling ones. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he was afraid you might break into pieces if he spoke too loudly. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”

You wanted to say no, to tell him that you didn’t need him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, too tired and too dizzy to fight it.

He exchanged a look with Jessica and she sighed, her worry morphing into something closer to relief. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”

Your legs were useless, and you sagged heavily against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, cradling you against him. His scent surrounded you, familiar and comforting, and despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he carried you out, the sounds of the party fading away behind you.

The ride to your dorm was a blur. 

You were vaguely aware of Rafe’s arm around you, of Jessica sitting on your other side, rubbing your back in small circles. The motion of the car made your stomach churn, and you had to close your eyes to keep from getting sick. Uber or not, you weren’t about to ruin someone else’s car. 

When you finally arrived, he practically carried you inside while Jess fumbled with your keys before pushing the door open.

He led you to your bed, easing you down onto the mattress.

“I’ll stay with her,” he muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jessica hesitated, looking between the two of you, before nodding slowly.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said to Rafe, squeezing his arm before she left.

You were barely aware of her leaving, still too drunk to process much of anything. He knelt down beside your bed, brushing a stray hair from your face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby.

You wanted to say something, to tell him that you didn’t need him, that you were fine on your own.

You felt your bottom lip tremble. 

He noticed the change immediately, his blue eyes softening as he continued to gently brush the hair from your face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. “Just breathe.”

But that only made it worse. You could feel the tears welling up as you realized just how much you’d missed this—missed him. The safety of his presence, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Your stomach churned, the nausea that had been building since you first sat in the car finally reaching a breaking point.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, your voice weak and shaky, “I think I’m gonna—”

He reacted instantly, his arms tightening around you as he quickly looked the room. “Okay, okay, just breathe,” he said, “You’re gonn be fine.”

But breathing was the last thing on your mind as the room started spinning faster. You tried to push away from him, your hand gripping his shirt as you fought to keep it down.

“Rafe, I need to throw up,” you managed to gasp, panic rising in your chest.

He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up from the bed and hurrying toward the bathroom. You barely registered the fact he was touching you again after so long, your mind solely focused on the nausea.

He got you to the bathroom just in time, guiding you to the toilet as you collapsed in front of it. He held your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you retched, the sound of it echoing harshly in the small space.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he murmured, grounding you as you emptied your stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand on your back, the gentle way he kept your hair out of the way.

When it was over, you slumped against the cool porcelain, too exhausted to care about anything other than the relief of having the nausea finally subside. Rafe handed you a damp washcloth, and you pressed it against your face, the coolness soothing against your overheated skin.

“Better?” he asked softly, crouching down beside you. 

You nodded weakly, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, while you avoided his gaze entirely. The room was quiet now, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you tried to regain some control.

“I’m sorry.”

You felt embarrassed, and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected, and you hated every second of it.

“Stop apologizing,” Rafe said gently, his hand still resting on your back. 

“Can you… can you stay over?” 

You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, not with the way your heart was aching.

Rafe’s eyes softened, the way they did only for you, and for a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might stay and help you forget, even just for a little while. 

But then he shook his head, his expression pained.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strained, like it hurt him to say it. “You know I can’t, sweets.”

You tried to hold it together, but it was no use. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying—quiet, heartbreaking sobs that you couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, but it only made you cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t even respond, the words tangled up in your throat. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t stay; it was everything—the confusion, the heartbreak, the way you felt like you were losing him all over again, even though he was right there in front of you.

“Please don’t cry,” Rafe pleaded, his voice breaking. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You buried your face in his chest, the sobs shaking your entire body. The warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of him—it was too much, too close to everything you’d been trying to avoid. But you couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

“I just… I just miss you,” you choked out, the words spilling from you in a broken whisper. “I miss you so much, Rafe.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I miss you too.”

You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing. The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the ache in your chest, the one that had been there ever since you’d forced yourself to let him go.

“I wish things were different,” his usually bright eyes were dimmed, his brows drew together as if he was in pain. He looked at you like he was memorizing every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time, “I keep hurting you.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his touch gentle as his fingers cradled your face. His thumbs brushed away the tears again, but they kept coming, fresh and spilling over. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a ragged breath.

“Please don’t hate me more for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely holding back. His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to cling to in this moment that felt like it was tearing you both apart.

“I could never hate you,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat as the tears continued to fall. It hurt to say it, to admit it out loud.

He left that night.

You had almost convinced yourself that it was better this way, that moving on, that he did you a favor that night by leaving, that keeping him out of your life was the only solution. 

Staying away from you was killing him. 

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

Rafe spent his days trying to distract himself, throwing himself into his studies for the first time in his life, into parties, into anything that would take his mind off you. 

But nothing worked. Every time he saw something that reminded him of you, it was like a punch to the gut—a song you liked, a place you used to go together, even the smell of the ocean would bring memories crashing back. He missed you so much it hurt.

And when he saw you, it was even worse. The first time he ran into you after the break, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was at a party, trying to forget, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowd, when he saw you across the room. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then your eyes met his, and his heart almost stopped.

You were as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so, but there was something different about you—something guarded, distant. But before he could even think about crossing the room to talk to you, you looked away, your expression closing off, leaving him standing there like an idiot, staring after you. 

He’d told you he’d wait for you and he intended on keeping that promise. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have you back, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never been this wrecked over a girl, but you weren’t just any girl. 

Rafe had never been good at groveling, at admitting he was wrong, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d get on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when it meant losing you. He was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that he was serious, that he loved you more than he ever thought possible.

But every time he saw you, he felt that hope slipping further away. The look in your eyes, the way you avoided him, it all felt like a final nail in the coffin. And yet, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop himself from yearning for you, from wanting you back in his life. He was going out of his mind, torn between respecting your wishes and fighting for you with everything he had.

Rafe knew he had to do something different, something that would show you just how much he had changed. The problem was, he didn't know what that was. He needed to find a way to prove to you that he was serious, that he was willing to put in the work to make things right.

So he started small.

He stopped going to parties, and stopped trying to drown out his feelings in distractions. Instead, he focused on becoming the person he thought you deserved—the person he knew he could be if he just tried. He started paying more attention in class, showing up on time, and actually studying. He even started volunteering, something he’d never done before, just to keep his mind occupied with something productive, something that wasn’t about him for once.

But the real change came when he began working on himself. He started seeing a therapist, something he’d always scoffed at before. He had a lot of baggage, a lot of unresolved issues that had driven him to hurt you in the first place, and he knew he needed to work through them if he ever wanted to be good enough for you.

It wasn’t easy. Therapy forced him to confront things he’d buried deep, things he’d avoided dealing with for years. Family trauma and all. But he stuck with it, because he knew it was the only way to get better, to be the kind of man you could trust again.

Slowly, he started to see changes in himself. He was more patient, more understanding, and more aware of how his actions affected others. He didn’t expect you to notice any of it—he was doing it for himself as much as for you—but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was trying.

And then he had to pick you up that night.

He had never seen you drunk before, you’d always preferred your fruity punch over any other alcoholic drink. He’d always known you as strong, independent, someone who could hold your own. Seeing you like that—broken, hurting—made something in him snap. Was this his fault? Had he done this to you? 

He knew he couldn’t stay that night. As much as it killed him to leave, he understood that this was part of growing too—the part where he learned to respect your boundaries, to give you space even when all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. You’d hate yourself the next day. He was doing you both a favor. 

The next morning, Rafe didn’t text or call. He wanted to give you time, to process everything without the pressure of him hovering. Instead, he threw himself back into his routine, keeping himself busy but always with you at the back of his mind. He wondered if you remembered anything from the night before—how close he’d come to breaking down when you asked him to stay, how it had taken every ounce of self-control to walk away from you again.

Days passed, and he didn’t hear from you. It felt like a new kind of torture, but he stayed strong, if this was part of the process then so be it, he needed to be patient. 

He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to make you feel like you owed him anything. But he couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him too.

So when the call came that you were in the hospital, his heart nearly fell through his ass. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—he just went.

The thought of you being hurt, of something happening to you, was enough to make him speed over the legal limit. He needed to see you, to make sure you were okay, even if it was the last thing he did.

When he got there, his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he pushed through the doors of the hospital. He hated hospitals, hated everything about them—the smell, the sterile white walls. But none of that mattered now. All he could think about was you.

The nurse at the front desk directed him to your room, and he practically sprinted down the hallway, his mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios. He’d been too fucking anxious to ask if you were okay, as soon as your name and the word hospital registered, he was rushing over. When he finally reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you told him to leave?

But then he heard your pretty voice, soft and familiar. He pushed open the door and there you were, sitting up in the hospital bed with a sprained ankle, looking more frustrated than hurt. He breathed out in relief, so intensely it made his knees weak.

“Rafe?” you blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”

He took a step closer, “They called me. I’m still your emergency contact.”

“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t realize.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were trying to hold it together. “It’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious. Did a little too much during practice."

Rafe nodded, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The sight of you in that hospital bed, even for something as minor as a sprained ankle killed him. 

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”

But he couldn’t leave. Not now, not when you were right in front of him, looking so small and vulnerable. He shook his head, his voice coming out rougher than before, “I’m not leaving.”

You blinked up at him, “But you don’t have to—”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m staying.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t kick him out.  “Okay.”

He pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in like he had no intention of going anywhere. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint beeping of the machines and the murmur of voices from the hallway outside. For a moment, neither of you said anything.  It was strange, being this close yet so far away from you. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way yours had softened, the way the lines of worry on your face were starting to smooth out. You looked tired like you’d been lacking sleep. He wished he could help, even if just for a little while.

“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I used to think I was pretty good at taking care of myself. But then I met you, and I realized I’d never really let anyone take care of me before. Not like you did.”

“Rafe—”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, “I’m still here. I’ll always be here, even if all I can do is sit in a hospital room with you and make sure you’re okay.”

You looked down at your hands, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart squeezing painfully at the admission. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you for that night.”

He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer, careful not to overwhelm you but needing to be nearer all the same.

“I didn’t do anything special,” he murmured, though his mind replayed the events of that night. The helplessness he’d felt seeing you in that state, knowing there was little he could do to make it better. He hadn’t been sure then if you’d even wanted him there, but he’d helped you anyway. He couldn’t leave you, not when you needed someone—when you needed him.

“You were there,” a tear slipped down your cheek, and he instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. The touch was soft, almost reverent, and it made your breath get stuck in your throat.  “That’s more than enough.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the comfort it brought, even though it hurt to let yourself feel it, “Just glad you’re safe.”

“Why did you come?”

“Because I love you,” he admitted, tired of carrying the truth inside him, “I know I screwed up—God, I know that. But I’ve spent every day since trying to be better, trying to be the kind of man you deserve. And I know I have a long way to go, but I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not unless you ask me to.”

“You love me?”

Your voice sounded so meek, so unsure it made him want to punch himself in the face. This was entirely his doing. 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked nervous, and vulnerable, “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m in love with you, I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was too scared to. Didn’t want to make you think I was saying it to save my ass, y’know?”

You’d always wondered what it would be like to hear those words from him, to have him admit that he cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“I didn’t want to push you,” he continued, fingers intertwined, “But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t care, that I didn’t want this, want you.”

You blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. This was the Rafe you’d always hoped for—the one who was honest and unafraid to show his emotions. But it was also the Rafe who had hurt you, who had made mistakes that left scars you weren’t sure had fully healed.

“Rafe, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to say it, sweets. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of going back to that place where everything fell apart.”

He had changed—you could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke to you. He wasn’t the same Rafe who had hurt you.

"I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he continued, though there was a hint of desperation in it. "I know I need to earn that. But please, give me a chance to prove it. I don’t want to lose you again."

"You can’t wait for me forever.”

“I’d wait for you a lifetime. I told you,” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing when he spoke, as if he was trying not to cry, “If you ever want me, I’m yours.”

His hands, usually so restless, were still now, resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. You saw the man he was trying to be—the man he wanted to be for you. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was trying. And that had to count for something.

“Even if I made you wait until we’re eighty and grey?”

Rafe let out a breathless laugh, the sound strained but genuine, “Even then,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re it for me.”

It scared you how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him that he was it for you too. He reached out, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for you to close the distance. You hesitated for only a moment before your fingers intertwined with his.  It felt right, like coming home after being lost for so long.

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were thinking, feeling. He looked like he was holding his breath.

“I love you too.”

It was still scary, still uncertain, but you realized that nothing worth having ever came easy. And Rafe, with all his flaws and all his efforts to be better, was worth it.

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief, “I don’t deserve you,” he said whispered, lips pressed against your fingers, “But I’m going to spend every day trying to. I swear, I’ll never stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could physically hold you together through sheer will alone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice panicked, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his. “I just… it’s been a long time since I let myself feel this way.”

He nodded, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t have to hold back with me. Not anymore. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, running down your cheeks. Rafe was there instantly, his other hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made your heart hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, “For everything I put you through.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you, giving you the strength to keep going. “I was so miserable Rafe,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you back in, I’d get hurt again. Scared that I’d lose you all over again.”

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m here, and I’m not going to let you down.”

“I want to try.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, and he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t  believe what he was hearing. “You do?”

You nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “I do. But we need to take it slow, okay? I need time.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with hope. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t fucking care sweets, I’m not leaving.”

You weren’t just giving him another chance—you were giving yourself one too. A chance to heal, to forgive, and to find your way back to each other.

Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise between you. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s you and me, okay?”

“You and me.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It was a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time, and seeing it made you want to bawl all over again. His hand cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your jaw as his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to be close to you again. And when his lips finally brushed against yours, whatever pain you were feeling on your ankle disappeared. 

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, afraid to push too far too soon. But the moment your lips pressed back against his, that tentative touch deepened. Rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a second. You could feel the desperation in the way his lips moved against yours, the way his breath hitched when you parted your lips to let him in.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in him, the door to your room swung open with a creak. You both froze, lips still touching, as someone cleared their throat.

You pulled away from each other reluctantly, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you saw the same blush of color on his face, the same love-sick expression that you were sure mirrored your own.

The doctor stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, I see you’re feeling better.”

Rafe cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, his hand still lingering on your arm as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great,” he mumbled.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over, “Yeah. He is.”

[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

[typeofraccoon]

Hiii um can I request a fluff five x reader fic where the reader is also an adult stuck in their teenage body, and has a demeanor similar to Lila, they’re like super smart but always some of the most off-the-wall shit that doesn’t really sound smart at first but after a minute of thinking you’re like ‘oh shit Ok yeah that makes sense’. (Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense btw)

-rem

Part Of It

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Five Hargreeves Masterlist

I'm gonna make this kinda in an au where s3 didn't happen and Lila went with the Hargreeves instead of just leaving at the end of s2 and Ben's alive like actually alive not a ghost.

Also sorry if this isn't what you were thinking of.

Warnings: Not proof read, unfinished? and I basically had this finished so I just went through some of it and decided to post it. Even though this isn't too long and might not make sense.

Word count = 1,144

Description: Your remarks make even Five confused sometimes but it's part of why he loves you.

As the sun shone through the window and past the open curtains you rolled over in your bed reaching out next to you. After not feeling anyone you open your eyes squinting at the light that was flooding into the room. You sit up rubbing the sleep from your eyes getting ready to open them again.

When you had opened them you slung your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed your slippers. Once you had put your slippers on you planted your feet on the ground and pushed yourself up off the bed. Now standing you walk towards the closet to get ready for the day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were now making your way to the kitchen to get a morning coffee and hopefully find the person that was missing from your bed when you woke up.

As you were walking down the stairs you saw Lila walking up them towards you. She smiled at you and started to talk "Fives in the kitchen making another pot of coffee."

You look at her questioningly with an amused grin on your face already knowing what she meant but decided to ask anyway. "What do you mean another pot?"

Her grin widened as she lifted a mug in her hand while saying "Diego isn't awake yet, and both me and him need our morning coffee." As she finishes her sentence you notice another mug in her other hand. "There was just enough for two cups, luckily."

You both chuckled a little before saying bye to each other walking the opposite ways again.

Now you knew that Five wouldn't be cheerful in the morning already but with Lila having taken Fives coffee you knew it would be easy to piss him off. You were already thinking of some way to distract Five from Lila so that he wouldn't be plotting revenge for the rest of the day.

When you walked into the kitchen you noticed Five hovering over the coffee pot mumbling something under his breath. You smile slightly realising that this is your chance to try and scare Five. Something that he had never given you any chance to do before and had actually said that you'd never be able to do.

As you snuck up behind him you got ready to say what you had planned in an effort to also distract him from what you were about to do as well.

When you were close enough to him you started talking relatively loud before wrapping your arms around him. "You know that if you lived for 70 years you'd have spent like 10 years of your life on Monday."

You felt Five jump slightly your smile grow wider at your successful attempt at scaring him even slightly. You let go of him and Five turned to face you. When you could finally see his face he looked confused and you smiled sweetly up at him.

You were looking at him innocently as if you hadn't just said something that you knew he had to think about. Then Five turned back around to the coffee pot and picked it up getting ready to pour coffee into his cup.

As he started to pour the coffee into his cup he spoke to you. "What do you mean by that?"

When he finished talking you started to clarify why you had brought it up. "Well think about it you're technically 58. So in 12 years you'll have lived 10 years of your life on a Monday."

You were looking up at him with a sweet smile on your face as you were talking. When you had finished talking he had filled his cup up with coffee.

When he went to place the coffee pot back in it's rightful place you quickly grabbed his cup and walked to the table. By the time that Five had realised that you had taken his cup you had already sat in one of the chairs and started to sip from the cup.

Five looked at you with a fed up look before sighing and turning back around. But you noticed his mouth turn into a slight smile just before he managed to fully turn around.

"Did you really have to take my coffee?" He said while going to take out another cup from the cupboard.

You watched his movements "Yep." You responded to him with a smile.

When he had grabbed another cup he turned back around to look at you before starting to talk again. "Even if that was correct wouldn't all the time travelling change that."

You thought for a second while drinking. "I mean... that would depend on if you time travelled perfectly then technically my point still stands" As you finished talking you were looking at him.

Five had grabbed the coffee pot once again and started to pour it into his new cup while he was looking right at you. He sighed before an adoring smile was brought to his face and he chuckled slightly before he responded. "Fair enough."

He placed the coffee pot back where he had just placed it a couple of minutes ago. He brought his cup to his lips and took a sip of the coffee before he started to walk towards you.

He smiled lovingly at you and sat in the chair next to yours before he started talking trying to continue the conversation. "So when I actually do turn 70 then I will have spent at least 10 years of my life on a Monday."

You looked at him excited. "'Exactly! See that's still interesting."

When you finished the sentence you laughed slightly while looking up at him. Meanwhile he just rolled his eyes at you while taking another sip of his coffee.

He looked into your eyes before starting to speak to you again. "So since you're so certain about that. Do you know how many years we will have been together in 12 years?" As he was finishing his sentence he leaned closer to you and smirked once again.

You leaned in closer to Five as well and closed your eyes confidently with a smile on your face. "Well actually it will have been about nineteen years since we first met and about fifteen years since we started dating."

Five smiled lovingly at you and leaned back slightly to take another slightly longer sip of his coffee. When he brought the cup back away from his lips, his smile still prominently glued to his face he started to lean back in towards you while placing his cup on the table beside him.

Once Five was a couple of inches away from you he spoke again. "Sorry but you're wrong there darling. " When he finished his sentence he chuckled slightly. "By then we would've met seventeen years ago and it would have been dating for fifteen years."

[ineffable-suffering]

The meaning of "I forgive you"

Alright, hello again, I involuntarily dipped for a bit because real life outside of this lovely Tumblr Good Omens bubble got a little bit stressful, but! I'm back for a quick little post to say that I'm currently reading the script book for Season 1 and seeing this line again, spelled out on paper, just shone some more light on the whole „I forgive you“-scene of Season 2 for me again.

Because really, this first time Az says it to Crowley in front of the bookshop tells us exactly what the second time during the Final Fifteen means.

Aziraphale is not forgiving Crowley for kissing him. Or for using this moment to confess and make things explicit between them.

No, Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not trusting and believing (in) him.

Let's shove the Final Fifteen to the side for a second and look at this scene from Season 1 under the cut.

The situation at hand: The World is ending, with utmost certainty. In addition, Crowley is absolutely f*cked and Hell is out to get him. He tries to apologise for their Bandstand fallout and explain the other two things to Az (poorly, but he tries). Because to Crowley, Armageddon is a done deal already. Wherever the actual Antichrist is, he's gonna come into his power and the World will be wiped out for Heaven and Hell to wage their war on. Also, Hastur is coming to kick his demon ass. Time to dip!

And yet, Aziraphale doesn't want to come with him. He is adamant that he will be able to reach the Almighty, talk to Her and turn this around. Because if Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, thinks there's even the slightest, tiniest morsel of a chance that he can turn things around the right way, he will do it. Even if it sounds ridiculous. Even if it's a lost cause to everyone else. Even if all the other angels gang up on him and (literally) beat him up.

Even if Crowley calls him stupid.

Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.

Because this is what he does. This is what a Guardian does. He stays and protects to ward off the intrusion, until the very last second.

Now listen, I'm the last person to blame Crowley for intrinsically wanting to choose Flight over Fight in this very situation, because Lord knows (literally) what happened to him back when he chose Fight and lost.

But at the same time we have to keep in mind that despite his last name, Aziraphale never Fell. He never made the horrible experience of being chucked away by the one who made you to love Her because you chose to question her ways. And yes, in so many ways this choice of his, to still believe that he can change something by questioning and suggesting (both here and in S2), is utterly maddening and hurtful to Crowley. Because it's a mirror of what Crowley himself did and a reminder of just how big the price he had to pay was. Aziraphale seemingly not realizing or understanding this stings. It does.

And yet.

Yet Aziraphale's choice to not take no for an answer, to not let a punch to the gut derail him from his plan, to not let even the most definitive thing such as Armageddon keep him from fighting back, is the one thing that ends up saving the World.

Because even when it all seems impossible and completely hopeless and bloody Satan himself is erupting from the pits of Hell, ...

... Aziraphale picks up his sword and fights back.

And he wins.

Not without help, of course. But might I remind you of what got Crowley to cooperate and not simply surrender like he'd almost done that second?

You might not see it at first, but tucked in between all the posh hedonism, hidden away underneath that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his, Aziraphale is a fighter. And a good one at that. I mean, for Someone's sake, he got discorporated, beamed himself down back to Earth, found Crowley somehow, possessed a psychic prostitute (love you, Madame Tracy), rode a scooter all the way to Taddfield and fought off Lucifer with sheer willpower (and a bit of emotional coercion).

Aziraphale can fight. Smart and hard. And not only that: He can win, too. And he knows it. Because he believes, truly, firmly and wholly, that he can make things right. It's the only thing he will settle for. This, ladies and gents, this is how he ends up saving the World, together with Crowley, Adam and the rest.

Because he didn't accept no as an answer. He didn't look at the impossible and accept it as such. Even when Crowley thought him to be an idiot for trying and even after his initial attempt at talking to God had failed, Aziraphale still found a way to stop The Big Bad Thing from happening.

Which is exactly what his plan is when he ends up being forced to come back to Heaven by the Metatron. (If you still believe this was a voluntary choice, read here). And which is exactly why he is so hurt and still ends up forgiving Crowley for the fact that Crowley doesn't end up coming with him. Doesn't end up understanding, trusting and believing (in) him, just like all the way back at the end of the World in Season 1.

Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.

[addie-your-queen]

Instead of a confession Edwin came out to Charles on the staircase

~O~0~o~0~O~

“I’ve never actually really thought about it until you asked me,” Edwin said into the quiet air, pulling Charles back from his own thoughts.

“Huh?” Charles asked.

“What it’s like.” Edwin said. “Being in love.”

“Oh.”

“It’s like- no words can describe it, right? But at the same time, I feel like I could use every word in every language, and it would still never be enough.”

Charles didn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say to that?

“Honestly I feel like I could probably talk forever about it.” He seemed to realize what he was saying and looked over at Charles. “It’s not like I could ever talk to our friends about it though. I mean- not that I don’t trust them. It’s just not really the kind of thing you tell them.” Charles got it. If Edwin ever brought anything like that up to Crystal and Nico, he would never ever hear the end of it.

“You can talk to me,” he offered, his voice more of a whisper than he meant it to be.

Edwin looked at him a minute, his expression unreadable. “Thanks,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” Charles said softly and his heart rate sped up, just a little. Silence fell between them again. …

“You really want to hear about it?” Edwin asked later that night.

“If you want to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to feel like I’m just making you listen to me talk.”

Charles shrugged. “I like listening to you talk.” That seemed to be enough to assure him.

Edwin thought for a moment. “It is,” he said, “the most amazing and terrifying feeling I have ever known, at the same time.” He closed his eyes as if trying to picture it. “It feels almost- almost unreal,” he said once he opened them again. “Like maybe I’m just imagining everything and I’m going to wake up at any minute. And yet it’s like the most sure thing I have ever known. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, and someone is supposed to be at the bottom to break the landing, but I’ve already jumped off before checking if they’re there. Every time I see him, it’s like the breath has been stolen from my lungs, and my whole world has been turned upside down. And yet- he makes everything fall into place. And it’s breathtaking. Like when we’re together, everything is how it’s meant to be. Like right there, in that moment, everything is right. Like nothing else matters when I’m with him. And then I look at him and… Looking at him is like looking at forever.”

“Oh,” Charles said, because what else could he say?

“It’s everything,” Edwin said softly, looking over at Charles. “He’s everything.”

Charles caught his gaze and his smile was breathtaking. And oh. Because that’s how Edwin had described it. Breathtaking. But Edwin was talking about the boy who held his future. And this was just Edwin. His best friend. So maybe it didn’t have to be the love of his life to find someone breathtaking. Maybe best friends can be breathtaking too, he decided.

Charles flopped back onto the couch, letting his head fall against the arm. “Tell me about him?” he asked.

“Okay,” Edwin agreed, then paused. “I’m not very good at describing people,” he said.

“Tell me anyway.”

Edwin was quiet a moment, like he was trying to gather up the courage to speak. “He has the prettiest brown eyes that light up when he talks about something he loves, and the most charismatic smile you’ve ever seen. He’s kind and he’s smart, even if he doesn’t think he is. He’s brave and compassionate and spontaneous…” his voice trailed off. “And he’s perfect,” he said. “I wish he could see that.”

“You could tell him,” Charles suggested, but when Edwin smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“He wouldn’t listen,” he said quietly.

[the-monkeies-girl]

*reader talking with Malcolm's wife, and she complements readers hair beads made by the female apes*

Reader: aw thank you, I never get compliments often *side eyes caesar*

Caesar: *gives the "bitch what" look*

This is the funniest thing because imagine that night, you're in the nest tangling your hair out of the beads and Caesar is watching with baited breath because he genuinely does think that you are beautiful. Like, he's aware he does not verbalize it often, he knows that you called him out earlier in front of Humans. You're deathly quiet as you pull the beads out, almost placing them down pseudo-aggressive.

"You... are angry."

"You think so?" Caesar is quiet and huffs out of his nose from minor frustration. Why... Were you like this sometimes? He did not know, he did not understand but he chose to press on regardless, "Why?" "No reason, just tired I think. Long day at the dam helping my fellow Humans." You uttered, turning to face him finally and unbuttoned your flannel shirt so you could snuggle into an oversized t-shirt for bed. "You know, they're just so nice."

Ah. So... That's what this was about. His green gaze falls to your bare chest and then back to your eyes as you're holding the t-shirt in your hands, raising an eyebrow, "What? Do you have a staring problem?" Anger flares for a moment as does his nostrils at the absolute audacity of the tone that you used. "I... Do not understand... Why you are being this way." "Would it pay you to give me a compliment?" You uttered and slid the shirt on much to Caesar's digression as he was no able to see less of your bare flesh. "You know, we humans, as tough as I might appear to be. We like that. Compliments. Telling us that we're pretty, or funny, or smart---"

"You know I feel that way, why is it important for me to say it constantly?" "I'm not asking for constant." You rolled your eyes and trailed towards the nest and quite frankly, threw yourself in and tangled yourself into the animal hides that kept you warm when Caesar was not with you. "Geez, you really don't get it."

Caesar grunts, following you into the bed and before you're aware of what was happening, you're pinning flat on your back and he's hovering over you with a hand on the entire scape of his stomach, your skin lighting itself on fire in sudden arousal as you made eye contact with him and felt yourself sink back a bit a the intensity. The nest creaked under you at the sudden shift in weight as Caesar commandeered you and almost had you in a straddle.

"Do you want to hear how much I want you?" You were going to utter a yes but nothing came out, surprised by the bluntness of his words. He was brash, this you knew very well, but he kept these thoughts to himself for a reason you figured, having pressed a bit too far into the rabbit hole but there was no denying that the hold he had on you was exhilarating. "How much... Your scent... Drives me..." Caesar drew his head down and rested it in the crook of your neck. "how I want to... pick at your skin with my teeth. Every... single... part..." Hot and heavy breathing erupted between the two of you as you squirmed out of heady arousal, Caesar's voice tearing into the deepest piece of his baritone that he was capable of reaching and it felt like he was rumbling against you like thunder. All the more enticing, all the more alluring. "You do not understand the want I have to always be near you, to have myself inside of yo---" "I-I was just asking you to call me pretty every once in a while, Ceasar. No-nothing that serious." Swallowing softly, you knew exactly where his sentence was going to end and cut it short out of minor embarrassment that he was able to get you so flustered with just tones and words. He got quiet above you and let his hand drift upwards to encase one of your breasts that caused you to arch against him. "You are pretty."

Well, that was better than nothing, you chuckled to yourself, feeling the heat rise in your navel as you pulled your arms around him to tug his larger body against yours without reserve.

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

[the-faceless-bride]

In need of 'Correction'...

Summary -> You were working for the other side, and while trying to plant bugs to gather information you end up getting caught, and while you thought you would end up dead... It somehow leads to something else... It seems the ones who caught you deem you in need of correction... A sweet doe-eyed thing like you wouldn't have done something like this on your own, you've clearly been manipulated... Don't worry, they'll help you.

⚠️warnings: porn w/ little to no plot, Non-con/Dub-con, forced orgasms, squirting, double penetration, anal (reader receiving), manipulation, mind break (?), yandere behavior (if you squint), ooc task force 141, I tried my best to keep reader GN! Read is called Pretty and has a vigina, reader is smaller than tf 141, readers codename is "Bandit", smut, slapping, being held against will, forced kissing, forced touching, forced oral (giving and receiving), interrogation, threats, dark content, violence against reader, might make a part 2 if you really like it, let me know if I missed anything!!!⚠️

Characters include: John Price, Johnny Soap, Simon Ghost, Kyle Gaz, Alejandro

A/n: I'm not the best at writing in Spanish, correct me if I write something wrong or incorrect, also I've been gone for a while so I'm a little rusty, please forgive me if it's shitty, ESPECIALLY the smut. If you have any tips I appreciate it, likes and reblogs are welcome!

You woke up with a throbbing in your head, your vision slightly blurred and your skin felt gross with the amount of dried blood that had been caked onto your face under your mask. You looked around, you were tied to a wooden chair and pushed into a small table, a single bright light illuminating the small room. an investigation room?.where were you? You don't remember much but you do remember being sent to plant bugs where the information is sent and getting information on some files...

You held onto the rafters crawling across as quickly and quietly as you could. Trying to reach the vents to crawl through and get right into the main office, you needed to plant a few bugs to get important information about some files and documents.

When you got into the vents you crawled around for a while trying to remember the layout you saw on the map. But you stopped when you heard voices. "-not sure, but whoever they are, they're smart. We gotta find them. They could be useful." another voice. "Maybe they can be persuaded to join our side? Money?" another voice. "tsk- shouldn't give money to a waste of air. How the hell sells out for money?! A disgrace if you ask me." they were talking about you. they wanted to get you on their side? Why? What for? Information? Skill? Or- oh shit.

The vent creaked.

All hell broke loose. Everyone in that room from what you heard got up and scattered to block off your only exits. You had to move fast.

You thought for a moment and chose to take the long way. You kicked open the grate beneath you and drop to the floor below. You ran out of the room. Taking turns. Trying to remember the way out.

Left.

Right.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Then your luck ran out and you slammed into someone's chest. You might know all their names, but you would be an idiot to not know him.

Ghost.

Then after a moment, he held you tightly the mask over your face becoming suffocating. And your vision began to blur.

He let you go and your head hit the wall, and you finally blacked out.

You didn't have more time to think before the door slammed open and a group of men walked through. They were all eyeing you. A dark hunger in their eyes.

One takes a step forward. You assume he is Captain Price. You try not to flinch as he rips the mask from your head. You still flinched. Some parts of your hair stick to your face. You fight the urge to try and wipe it off. Not wanting to risk taking your eyes off of the group of men that stood in front of you.

"hm-" a man huffed looking at you "When I pictured you, I didn't think you'd be so... Pretty?" a man with a Scottish accent thought out loud, the man next to him chuckled. "Soap, Gaz. Please. Keep it in your pants... For now." Ghost sighed.

Soap. And Gaz. That was their names...

You looked back to Price, he pouts in mock sympathy. Before pulling over a chai and sitting across from you.

"what's your name." he wasn't asking. He was giving you a command. His voice was deep and dripped with authority. In other circumstances, you would've felt flustered. But at this moment you were just scared. You weren't an idiot. These men were all bigger than you. You were a good fighter. But you knew if you tried to fight you would lose. And you didn't want to die here.

You looked up, making eye contact with Price. "I... I'm Bandit." you tried to hold eye contact but it was difficult. It felt like he was looking into the depths of your soul. You looked at your feet. Only to jump when his hand slammed on the table.

A faint, "aw" could be heard. You felt pathetic. "well. Bandit. You don't seem cut out for this kind of work. Too soft. Too jumpy. I don't wanna have to hurt that pretty face. So why don't you just tell me what you know? Confirm who you work for, and why you are on their side. And I might think about letting you go without a scare on you."

You look from him to the men behind him, back to your feet. You couldn't tell them anything. Even if they let you go after this you'll be tracked down. From where you sit. Both end in death. You didn't know these men well. But you knew the men you worked with. They were cruel, and unforgiving, and would skin you alive and leave you for the rats to pick at. You chose to take your chances with these men.

"oh? No longer interested in talking? Fine. But you asked for it. Alejandro. If you wouldn't mind?" Price stood from his chair. And the man Alejandro walked towards you. Your heart rate picked up.

You didn't get a moment to think as a hard smack was sent to the side of your face, fuck did it hurt. You tried to hold in the tears as a whimper escaped you. Blow after blow to your ribs, cheek, legs, and hands. All dealt with the same amount of unforgiving force. Ten minutes in you were a whimpering tear-stained mess. Small gasps of "stop." and "please." you were never cut out for this pain. You had always stayed in the shadows away from the fire. Now you curse yourself for not training your body and pain tolerance.

The strikes stopped and the man named Gaz took a step forward, his hand coming up to your face and you flinch away. He coos at you. Mocking you.

"you poor thing. You just want this to stop." you lightly nod your head as he takes a rag that he dipped in a bucket of freezing water - was that bucket always there? - he softly runs the rag over your face cleaning you of the blood and sweat. Using a hand to move hair from your face. The softness makes you mean into his touch. No longer wanting the painful touch.

"If you want this to stop, all you have to do is tell us what you know. What they know and why. Okay?" your lip trembles, "I can't." you whisper. "It was just meant to be a quick cash grab. I needed to help pay off a debt and this money was meant to help. If I tell you I either end up dead or tracked down and beaten to death later." Gaz looks into your eyes for a moment before they shift to the other men. They all seem to nod their heads, having a secret conversation with themselves. "we can protect you. As long as you work for us instead."

"b-but I don't know anything important about the people who hired me. I-" he and the rest of the men let out low chuckles, "no, we don't mean that kind of work. Just, allow us to show you how you've been wrong and do some... Physical work for us."

"physical work? But I'm not as strong as you guys and I don't have that much pain tolerance when it comes to this stuff and-" you were cut off, "don't worry, you'll get more of a tolerance and you being weaker is just how we like it." you were so focused on trying to put the pieces together to notice the rest of the men closing in on you, "I can see in your pretty eyes that your confused, allow as to make it nice and easy for you to understand."

The ropes around your hands and legs were snapped and you were lifted onto the table. Soap and Alejandro held down your legs, as Ghost and Price help your arms, Gaz worked on unbuckling your belt. After a moment of shock, the pieces finally fell into their place.

You began to struggle. "wait! I- you can't! Let go! Let me go!" Alejandro laughs at your cries, "More vocal now, aren't you pequeña? Just enjoy it. It's better than the pain before isn't it?"

Your pants are now around your knees, you wish you could close your legs or cover them but you can't. "don't worry love, I'll be nice. I'll prepare you a little." Gaz smiles at you as he lowers his head. Pressing a kiss to your clit before taking a long and slow lick up your cunt. "no please!" you struggle to keep yourself composed.

He kisses and sucks lightly on your clit, coaxing more sweet slick to drip from you. You don't wanna like it. You've never felt such pleasure in this way before. You didn't have sex a lot with your job but when you did it was rushed and didn't focus solely on you. But at this moment that was the only thing happening.

You felt him push a finger in, searching for that sweet spot that would make you cry out. And after a moment a gasp from you told Gaz that he had found it. He then pushed in another finger, both pushing against that spongy spot within you, sucking your clit at the same time. Your back arches. Stop it! You don't want this. You don't want to like this. This was wrong. Gross. So why did your body respond so willingly to him?

"she's fighting it." Ghost groans out. Clearly enjoying your sounds of struggle and strangled whimpers.

"awe, com'on hen. Let go. Enjoy it."

You gasp as you feel the knot start to tighten more and more. Don't. Don't you dare. If you do they'll win! You can't! Don't!-

You gasp. you feel a gush of liquid as the knot pulls tight and snaps. You look up, your vision around you blurring as you look into the one light above you. After a beat, you look down between your legs. Gaz's lips, chin, and even his nose were covered in your slick. You felt your face go warm with embarrassment, you had never done that before.

"oh fuck yeah-" Soap groans out and the others make a sound of agreement, all of them now all over you. Your body feels numb and you don't know if you have it in you to struggle. Soap kissed his way up to your chest playing with your chest, Alejandro kissed and left marks on your hips, Price and Ghost kissed your neck and collarbone.

You heard the sound of a belt buckle before feeling something warm, soft, and round rubbing against your entrance. You whimper knowing what's coming.

"oh lovie don't whine like that, you'll almost make me feel bad." Gaz teased slowly pushing in with a soft sigh as you clench around him. He leans over careful of the others and kisses you. The kiss is sickeningly sweet and soft. The soft whine he makes also does no favors in helping you keep your composer.

Soap pulls away with a light, "fuck it" as he makes his way over to the other side undoing his belt, "Hen, mind given me a hand?" you don't really get to respond as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, using your hand as a fucktoy the precum oozing and making your hand slick and sticky. "oh, yeah hen~ such a good little pet~" he sighs Alejandro soon joining his making you use both hands, both men grinning as they chase their pleasure.

Gaz thrusts a few times testing to see if you've relaxed a bit more so he could slide in and out easier. Once he was satisfied he pulled away making a motion towards the other men, they all move to the side. Soap and Alejandro stroking their girths, Price and Ghost finally undoing their belts.

You were now laid onto of Gaz as he pushed himself back into your dripping pussy, Soap and Alejandro taking your hands to stroke their cocks again, Price and Ghost finally picking their spots.

Ghost pushes his angry red tip against your plush lips, his eyes giving you a warning to dare and disobey the Silent order. And Price made his way behind you with Gaz, he wasn't as kind as Gaz was he simply spreads your ass apart before spitting and letting his tip do the work of spreading the makeshift lube.

You lick your lips nervously as you slowly open your mouth for the man looming over you. He wastes no time pushing his way into your mouth and thrusting his hips making sure to touch the back of your throat each time. And Price simply pushed in, no warning, no stretch, the burn was painful. It made you whine and sputter around Ghost who was starting up an unforgiving rhythm that would surely leave your throat raw.

The mix of Pain from Price, the pleasure from Gaz and his perfectly arched cock hitting the most sensitive part inside of you, and the lack of oxygen due to Ghost's unforgiving thrusts and the dirty words in your ears from Alejandro and Soap was overwhelming. But fuck was it good.

All these feelings, the fear inside of you, the lust. You just couldn't take it anymore. Fighting would be useless at this point.

You start pumping Soap and Alejandro faster, they both let out a surprised sigh but quickly allow themselves to be taken care of.

"that's it hen, be a good little toy for us~ fuck your so hot hen~"

"Sí, así como así mi amor. Esa es una buena chica, sigue acariciándome así."

Ghost groans with a smirk, you can't see it behind his mask but if you could you'd melt.

"That's it dear, focus on sucking that cock. You like taking my cock, don't you? You'll swallow it all right baby?"

Gaz and Price fucking into you.

"Fucking Slut, you like taking cock huh? you like the way I fuck you? Fuck your tight, never taking it in the ass before huh? Well, you're gonna have to get used to it my little slut."

"Fuck lovie, you're so good for us. You'll be good, right? You'll stay and be our little cock slut? You'll play nice right? Can't wait for the others to see you like this. Such a perfect little pet for us~"

You whimper and moan, Fuck you're gonna cum again. And from the sounds around you, so are they.

In a few moments, Soap lets out a sweet moan and paints the left side of your face white with his cum. The sight made Alejandro groan, you looked so pretty, covering the right side of your face with His cum too. They pull away admiring their work.

Ghost's hips pick up in spread before he slams down holding your head in place, your nose against the ash-blonde happy trail. Cum flowed down your throat, swallowing all you could. He pulls back as you cough and suck in as much air as you could.

Your hands shoot down to hold onto Gaz's shoulders, your moans now free for all to hear. You moan as you feel yourself squirt again all over Gaz's thighs, a moment later feeling both men fill you with their cum. Price was the first to pull out with a low chuckle.

"so what do you say Lovie? Wanna stay with us? I promise we'll give you lots of orgasms~"

Part 2 ->

[nhlclover]

wish you were sober pt.2 | mark estapa

summary: mark works up the courage to finally tell you his long kept feelings. part one here!

request: yes / no

warnings: the second part to a previous story, i recommend reading the first part before this one. semi proof read, couple instances of cursing, little bit of angst + fluff

a/n: sitting here pretending he didn't just get hurt yesterday😃 also sorry for lack of posting it’s midterms and i’ve got lots of school work so bear with me!

word count: 1.08k

It had been a full day and a half since you’d heard anything from Mark. Although you had told him off, saying you were done, you had hoped he would’ve come to some sort of senses sooner. You missed him. You missed having him in your life, to the point you wished you’d said nothing. You honestly would’ve rathered staying in your limbo of friendship as long as that meant keeping Mark in your life.

The past couple of days had been miserable for you as you were stuck in your dorm room, doing homework and getting ahead on readings. Normally, over a weekend, you would have a hockey game to go to. You’d watch Mark play, and hopefully watch Michigan win. But you couldn’t bring yourself to go to Saturday’s game, so you instead watched online from the comfort of your bed, missing Mark's hold.

When your phone buzzed, you’d expected a text from you and your friends' group chat. Your heart did a leap when you read Mark's name on your screen. A text from him asked if he could come over. You wondered if it was just going to be Mark pretending as if nothing happened, as per usual. The smart and right thing to do would be to say no or ignore his text. But the prospect of having Mark back, hanging out with him in your dorm again, made you blindly pick up your phone and agree, telling him to come over. 

He was there within a few minutes, a soft knock signifying his arrival. When you opened the door, his appearance was not one you’d expected. His normal smile-dressed face, eyes lighting up with excitement even if it was just another normal day, was absent. He looked somber.

You stepped aside, allowing the boy to walk into your room. He sat in your desk chair, leaning back. The space was void of any words.

You stay by the door, wanting to maintain the distance between the two of you. You know that if you’re within reaching distance and you fall into his arms, Mark won’t need to say anything because you’ll succumb to his touch.

“How was your weekend?” He asks. It’s suddenly as you feared, with Mark brushing past what had happened on Friday.

You scoff at his question. “Uh, it was fine, Mark. I did some homework.” You answer bluntly.

Mark nodded, picking at the skin around his fingernails. “We had a game on Saturday. I was hoping you’d go, but I kind of figured you wouldn’t. We won. Four nothing. Rutger had this awesome play where-”

“What’re you doing here, Mark?” You cut him off.

He licks his lips, looking away from you. He’s silent as he looks out your window, the orange leaves slowly dropping from the tree just outside.

“I thought about what you said…on Friday.” He finally says. 

Your mouth goes dry, anticipating what his next words will be. You figure it goes one of two ways; he tells you he feels the same way or he tells you he doesn’t feel the same way and it’s the end of your friendship as you know it. You pray it’s the first.

“I was a douche.” He says. “I like you. I do. I really do.”

His words seem sincere but you don’t feel wholly convinced. “You said that, Mark.” You say. “But I don’t know if I believe you.”

“I understand that, but please try to.” He says softly. You stay silent, going to sit on your bed, giving Mark the chance to speak. 

“Okay…I’ve liked you for a while now. Like, last homecoming, y’know?”

You do know. It was the first time he’d kissed you.

“That…that was…sober thoughts becoming drunk actions,” Mark says. “Y’see I liked you a lot but I was scared…I didn’t know what to do. So when I got drunk, I wasn’t scared anymore so I just kissed you. And then the next morning, I was sober and the fear was back.” “Okay but Mark, I don’t understand what you were scared of. You say.

“I was scared you wouldn’t reciprocate, y/n.” He says. 

You can’t help but chuckle at his reasoning. “Why would you think that? I did reciprocate.” 

Mark bows his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Y/n… you’ve been in my life for too long. If I fucked up our friendship…I don’t know what I’d do.”

You run your hands over your face, processing his words. 

“And you’re you! I mean, y/n, you’ve always been this straight-A student, and you’re so god-damn smart and I’m a fucking fourth liner with more penalty minutes than shots on net.” Mark says, chuckling as he reaches the end of his sentence.

“Mark…” You say. You finally lock eyes with him, his brimming with tears. You hop off your bed, standing in front of him.

“And I’m not trying to give excuses I’m just trying to explain why the hell I’ve been the way that I am.” He tells you.

You reach forward, running your hand through his hair. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. His hands find the back of your thighs, his head resting on your stomach. The pair of you stay there momentarily, holding one another close. 

“Y/n?” Mark finally says. You pull back slightly, looking at Mark. “I want you. I want to be with you. Please.”

He pulls you down so you’re sat on his right knee. “If you’ll have me.” He adds.

You chuckle, bringing a hand to his cheek. Mark doesn’t hesitate to close the space, pressing his lips against yours. The comfort of his lips swaddles you as his hands grip your hips to hold you on his lap. The lack of sloppiness his sober kiss brings realizes the truth of his words. You’ve also known Mark since grade school and you’ve come to recognize when Mark is being genuine and not. And right now you have no doubt in your mind of how genuine he is.

When you break apart, you wipe away a stray tear that had escaped Mark's eye. “So, you’ve liked me since last year?”

“Maybe more like high school…” Mark says.

“High school? You’ve been hiding this since high school?” You ask.

“Yeah, well you didn’t like me then!” Mark defended.

You chuckle, brushing back a piece of hair that fell over his face. “Honey, I’ve liked you since the day you destroyed my sandcastle in the sandbox.”

[avocado-writing]

Poly aziracrow based on 2x04, where Crowley and R react to Aziraphale during this scene👀

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2KFemoQ/

notes: yes. this isn’t the first time I’ve had a request about his voice in this scene. and I will NEVER get tired of them ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: M (smut at the end)

tags: the light, the dark, and the space in between-verse; references to ptsd; slightly Dom!Aziraphale

You hate this bloody war. 

You’ve been part of a few, and all of them have left their scars on you. In you, buried in your soul. You remember your time in those trenches barely thirty years ago and bile claws at your throat. 

No. Don’t think about that. Concentrate on this. Concentrate on this horrid little demon who’s threatening the two people you love. Hands behind you, you finger a decorative paperweight, wondering if minions from hell are susceptible to being thwacked over the back of the head. 

He finishes his little tirade and tries to read Aziraphale’s name from a book (you’re amazed that the cretin is literate). But his demonic lips can’t make heads nor tails of the syllables. 

“Azil-pha-pha-la-luh—”

Aziraphale’s brow furrows just slightly, lips purse.

“Aziraphale.”

It’s not often you see your angel reach the end of his tether. He is a holy being after all; the pinnacle of patience, epitome of virtue. But sometimes, when something grinds his gears just right, that voice will come out. 

It does something to you and Crowley both, and the two of you exchange a glance across the room. This will be explored later. 

The demon, irritated, snaps his little book shut, then does a double take as his gaze passes over you. He didn’t even notice you were here. You try to look the picture of innocence as you ready the paperweight, thinking about the best way to swing a bludgeoning weapon when he has that ridiculous hair. 

“And you? What’s going on with you, why are you here?” He steps forward and takes a deep sniff. “You don’t smell divine.”

“Oh god, don’t bloody smell me!” you hiss, planting your hand on his chest and shoving him backwards. Aziraphale and Crowley move towards you to intervene if needed, but you wave them off. 

“Don’t bother with him, nightingale,” Crowley sighs, voice unbothered and bored, “he’s not worth your effort.”

You turn to the mirror in the dressing room instead and focus on smoothing out your clothes, ignoring the foul little gremlin until Crowley and Aziraphale sort him out. Which they do, inevitably, because they’re very clever and wonderful. The three of you head back to the bookshop for a very necessary glass of wine, and within the hour you’re all piled on the sofa, slightly blotted and very glad for each other’s company after a rough day. 

You and Crowley are either side of Aziraphale, each with a leg hooked over one of his plush thighs. You’re doing that thing they love where you compliment them about how smart they both are, and they get all smug and silly (and you love it); but halfway through you catch Crowley’s eye behind those dark little glasses and something shifts subtly. 

“You know, angel, you really gave that lapdog a dressing down earlier.”

“Oh, well, I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Aziraphale says, but he’s all puffed up like he gets when he’s flattered. Crowley runs a finger up the seam of his trouser leg, gently, slowly. 

“And you know what really sealed the deal? That voice you used on him,” you continue. “There was something quite dominant about it. Sexy.”

You snake your hand up his chest. Finally he cottons on. 

“Oh.”

“I think we both just wondered what it might take to get you to use it again.”

Aziraphale takes a final sip of his wine before carefully placing the glass on the table. He sits back, looking between the two of you, and there’s no missing the glint in his eye. 

“If you wanted me to tell you what to do,” he says lowly,

and you shiver, “you need only ask. I’m sure I’ll do it if you both behave.”

Crowley shifts. You can see the effect Aziraphale’s had on him: the tightening of his trousers, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. 

“So. Will you behave?”

“Yes,” you and Crowley both whisper at once, voices thin and needy. 

Aziraphale smiles. 

“Then I think you’re both wearing far too many clothes.”

Your clothes end up a muddled pile on the floor, and between the two of you, Aziraphale doesn’t leave the couch for the rest of the evening. He has you ride his thigh while Crowley swallows him down his pretty little throat, whispering his praises to both of you in that delicious voice. 

“Look at you both. Being so good for me. I love you both so much, my darlings.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, face burning with desire. He has Crowley fuck you over the arm of the couch as he watches the show, palming himself through his trousers, telling you where to touch each other. You’re happy to be his puppet, his plaything, anything. 

So long as he keeps talking.  -

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster

[sixpennydame]

Make. Believe. ❖ Act 3

Actor!Levi x Fem!Reader

The AoT Premiere approaches, but all Levi can think about is you.

Warnings/Content: NSFW, Minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, infidelity (Reader has a boyfriend as first), mentions of AoT final season episodes

A/N: There will be a final drabble that highlights more of the AoT episode premiere event; I wanted this part to focus more on our two main characters, but I've been having so much fun with the extra details in the drabbles. I hope you've enjoyed my take on AoT Actor AU!!

Act 1 | Act 2

Levi can’t keep track of what country he’s in, what time zone or even what day it is.

But he knows it’s been 186 days since he’s seen you.

Japan had been a whirlwind of promotions for the last two parts of the Attack on Titan final season, with meet-and-greets, commercial shoots, and talk show appearances. Europe had been much the same, and although it was exhausting, it was also fulfilling, being back with the cast, traveling with his old friends. He was sad to see it end, but he was also excited about other projects that were coming up. And next month, he’ll be going to the Cannes Film Festival, where the movie you and he shot together will finally premiere. After eight months, he’ll see you again.

But before that, he’s returned to Japan for the premiere of the final two episodes of Attack on Titan. Jet lag is still hitting him hard, and he sighs when he looks over at the clock and sees that it’s only two o’clock in the morning. Another sigh escapes his lips when he looks over at the naked body beside him in the bed. He can barely remember her name - was it Jessica? Jessie? All he really knows is that she was sitting next to him in the bar of the Tokyo Grand Hotel and that she looked as lonely as he was. He feels guilty - he’s never been one for one night stands - but he was yearning to feel your body again; and if he couldn’t have you, then this was good enough.

These days, your face is everywhere. You’d recently contracted with Christian Dior and were now the model for Miss Dior cologne. As Levi had arrived at Haneda airport, there was a giant poster of you tangled up in silk sheets with your hair cascading down one bare shoulder. “What Would You Do For Love?” the poster asked.

When he walked in a posh area of Shibuya, there was another advertisement of you; this time you’re lying across a sofa in a black silk dress, the pink bottle of cologne pressed against your chest. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry - the same kind of look you’d give him when you’d make love, all those months ago.

He reaches over and grabs his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in the darkness as he scrolls mindlessly through Instagram. He stops when he sees that you’ve posted a picture.

“Just finished filming season one! Now for a much needed break.”

You’re surrounded by your other cast members, all of you smiling. A man has his arm around you and Levi squints to look closer at the picture. He wonders if he’s just a friend, or if it’s something more, then he laughs at himself.

What is he doing? Why can’t he forget you?

He’s the one that made this choice, and he’s the one that pushed you away. You’re smart, ambitious, and beautiful - of course you’d find someone else to be with. But he can't help but wonder what it’ll be like to see you in person again, and with you on his mind, he eventually falls asleep.

Hours later, Levi’s phone is buzzing and chiming erratically and it jolts him awake. He turns off the alarm, then checks the time. “Shit, I gotta get up.”

He’d promised Erwin that they’d do a run this morning around the Imperial Palace Gardens. As he gets out of bed and grabs a t-shirt, an arm from the woman next to him reaches over.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey.” Awkwardness and regret drip from his voice. “This was fun but you’ve gotta go - I mean I - I’ve gotta go. I have somewhere to be.”

“Ok…let me just go clean up a bit,” she replies as she picks her clothes up off the floor and makes her way to the bathroom.

Putting on his running clothes, Levi shakes his head. They’re two consenting adults, but he can’t help but feel embarrassed about it all. He hates these kinds of awkward moments, especially when he knows he has no feelings for the woman.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and notices there’s an unread message. When he unlocks his phone, he sees that it’s from you and his heart starts to beat fast.

“Hi. Have fun at the premiere tonight.”

That was it, but Levi reads it a few times. He types out a simple, “Thanks,” not wanting to be rude, but also not wanting to seem too eager.

He puts the phone down but after a few seconds, picks it back up again and types another message.

“How are you?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Got some good news?” The woman is out of the bathroom and dressed.

Levi looks up from the screen then puts the phone down quickly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He walks over to her and kisses her tentatively on the cheek. “I’ll text you later.”

“You don’t have my number.” She’s seen right through his lie.

“Look I’m sorry, it’s just that I -“

“It’s fine, I wasn’t expecting more out of this anyway.” Before she opens the door to leave, she stops to look at him. “You’re a good man, Levi. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

—-

Erwin stands at the entrance of the Imperial Palace East Gardens, looking at his watch. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know, I got held up. Sorry about that.”

“Still jet lagged?”

“A bit,” Levi answers as he messes with his smart watch. “You?”

“Not really. Cold showers in the morning really help me to adjust.”

Levi laughs. “Of course. I forgot you did that.”

“Every morning. Let’s go.” Erwin and Levi start jogging down the path that leads through the East Gardens. It’s early spring and the cherry blossoms are at their peak in Tokyo, pink petals falling down around them.

When Erwin and Levi were on set for Attack on Titan, they would jog together every morning. It was something that Levi had always done alone, but found having a running partner comforting, even if they barely talked to each other. Erwin had a perpetual aura of calm around him, which was difficult to find amongst other actors. Levi hadn’t seen much of him since his character died, and both had been busy doing other projects; these past weeks doing promos for AoT made him feel like it was old times.

They finish an hour later back where they started, sunglasses on with the hope that no one will recognize them. “You ready for tonight?” Erwin asks as he walks up to a vending machine to buy a bottle of water.

“Yes and no. It’s bittersweet, to see something you worked on for so long finally end. But I’m proud of the work we’ve done on it, and I’m excited to see how the final episodes turned out.”

“Me too. It was good to be on set with you again, even for just a short moment.”

“Yeah, those were not fake tears coming down my face, let me tell you,” Levi admitted with a laugh.

As both men walked through the park, Levi reached into his pocket to check his phone and sure enough, there was another text from you:

“I’m doing good. :-)”

It elicits a smile from Levi and Erwin laughs. “What?” Levi asks defensively.

“Oh nothing,” Erwin replies, “that’s just an awful big smile. Must be someone special.”

“Someone I was trying to forget, actually.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I’m an idiot and I thought it’d be better that way for her.”

“Ah, I see.” Erwin sits down on a bench under a sweeping sakura tree and Levi follows. “Levi, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always put others ahead of yourself. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. But sometimes, you should be a little selfish.” He puts a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “And it’s ok to go after the things that you want. When you do that, life finds a way of working itself out.”

Levi smiles. Even off-screen, Erwin had a way of saying the wisest thing, right when he needed it most. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

“‘Course I’m right,” Erwin grins. “And as your commander, my final order is for you to go after this woman with your whole heart.”

They both laugh and talk as they make their way out of the park and to the busy streets of Tokyo. When Levi returns to his hotel and enters the elevator, he feels his phone buzz. It’s another message from you, and Levi’s eyes go wide when he reads it:

“I’m in Tokyo to attend the AoT premiere. I hope you don’t mind.”

——

Iceland was cold. And lonely.

The last six months shooting the series had been an incredible experience. The cast was a mix of seasoned actors and newbies just starting out, and with a young, emerging director looking to prove himself, you knew that you were a part of something great. The days were long and sometimes exhausting, and often ended up with you collapsed on your bed looking over lines into the wee hours of the morning. For the most part, you were happy.

But god, you missed Levi.

That last night you saw him, you couldn’t understand why he thought it would be better for you two to be apart, but you pretended to be ok with it. And it had taken everything in you not to knock on his door the next morning when you were leaving. You’d seen the jealousy on his face that night - you knew he still cared for you. But your pride had you walk away without so much as a goodbye. It’s what he wanted, right?

So you tried to move on and forget him. You’d even started dating someone on set; a feeble attempt to prove to yourself (and to Levi, in a way) that you could be a working actor and keep up a relationship. He was nice enough and the sex was good, but it just wasn’t the same. Something was missing.

You knew Levi hated social media and never updated his Instagram account, so you started following his AoT co-stars, hoping to get just a glimpse of him. Every once in a while, a video would come out on YouTube of him in an interview with other cast members, and you’d smile at how awkward he was at being himself in front of a camera.

When the date of the AoT premiere was announced, you immediately contacted your agent to get you on the guest list. You’d loved Attack on Titan for years - you had to be there. And to be honest, you wanted to see that dark-haired, brooding man again, even if from a distance.

Filming was wrapped for the next several months, to give you all some much needed rest, but you only had one day at home before you were back on a plane and headed to Japan. As you arrived at your hotel in the darkness of the early morning, you got your phone out of your bag. Somewhere, in this sprawling city, Levi was sleeping. You wonder, does he ever dream of you?

You find his name in your contacts and send him a quick text. He probably won’t respond, you think to yourself.

When you wake up late that morning and see that he has, your heart skips a beat.

You can’t help but smile as you send him a reply. Then another. You fall asleep for an hour or so and when you wake up, he’s answered you:

“Of course not. I hope I’ll see you there.”

——

The area around the Toho Cinema Roppongi Hills is starting to fill with people as the time for the Attack on Titan, Final Parts 1 and 2 premiere approaches. A red carpet has been rolled out and barriers put up; press and media have started to set up in their usual places, in preparation for pictures and interviews with the cast. Premieres are a huge event, and something that Levi has been involved in more times than he can count, but this one - the final AoT episodes - makes him feel emotional.

Now that he knows you’ll be here, he’s glad he didn’t bring a date - not that he was looking for one. He, Erwin, and Hange had decided to be each other’s dates months ago and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. The three of them ride in a limo to the cinema, along with their publicists and agents. All of them are silent, feeling the weight of this moment, until Hange breaks the silence as they pull up to the entrance.

“Ok, boys…the last ride of the three amigos..”

The three get out of the car and the cameras instantly start flashing. Hange gets between both Levi and Erwin and takes either arm in theirs, walking the red carpet and taking pictures before they separate for individual photos and interviews.

Levi usually likes picking his own clothes out for premiers, but he let a stylist do it this time. He walks down the red carpet in black pants and jacket, with a black mesh collared shirt underneath, which gives just the faintest view of his toned chest. Silver rings adorn his fingers, and he’s slicked back his hair, which he’s been growing out the past few months, just for fun. Photographers are yelling at him from every direction, asking him to look their way, or to take a picture with Hange, Zeke, or Erwin. All around him are the smiling faces of people he’s known for over 10 years, and soon, other celebrities and guests attending the event follow behind them. He looks through the crowd and sees you having your picture taken. You catch his eye and smile; he tries to make his way toward you but he’s whisked away by his publicist.

There are seats reserved in the front of the theater for the cast, with guests sitting in the rows behind them. He takes out his phone and texts you almost immediately upon sitting:

“Come to the after party? It’d be good to catch up.”

He sends you the address and a few moments later, receives your reply:

“I’ll see you there. :-)”

As he puts his phone in the breast pocket of his jacket, Hange reaches for his hand. “Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies with a sigh, squeezing their hand tightly.

The lights lower and the screen lights up to cheers from the crowd.

—-

Watching the final episodes was emotional, to say the least, but the mood at the after party is joyful and energetic. Everyone is drinking, eating, laughing, and reminiscing. Levi is sitting at a table with Petra, Ulou, and Eld when Zeke runs up.

“Levi, Levi, Levi, I just heard the greatest idea!” He forces his way between him and Petra. “Cast tattoos!”

“What?” Levi laughs.

“Yeah! Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and the others are doing it - we gotta do it too. They’re leaving soon, so let’s go!”

“No, no, there’s no we in this,” Levi protests as he resists Zeke pulling him away from the table. “Besides, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh?” That stops Zeke immediately. “And who would that be?”

You thank your driver in your limited Japanese as you leave the car and enter the stylish restaurant. Walking through the crowded space, you see Eren and Mikasa laughing and drinking with a group of other young actors. As a fan of the show since its beginning, you are feeling like a total fangirl as there are cast members from every season around you. But as you walk around the room looking for Levi, you suddenly get nervous, thinking that maybe this was a bad idea; you’re not even sure what you’re expecting from this night.

Just as you think about leaving, you see him sitting at a table with the Levi Squad cast and Zeke, who has an arm around him. He looks up, sees you, and smiles, throwing Zeke’s arm off of him.

As he walks towards you, you admire how good he looks. He’s so sexy, you can feel yourself blushing.

“Glad you could make it” he says, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek. His lips are soft, just like you remember them.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Attack on Titan has been my favorite series since forever. To be honest, I am so excited to be surrounded by the cast.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of them.” He places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the crowd. Your hunter green silk dress swoops down low in the back, so when his hand touches your bare skin it gives you goosebumps.

He takes you from group to group, introducing you to people you’ve only known through a screen. You laugh with Jean and Connie as they talk about the practical jokes they used to pull on Levi off-set; you sing Red Swan (your favorite opening song) with Armin and Sasha, Levi refusing to join in no matter how hard you all try; you take shots with Hange and gush about how much you loved their character.

Levi watches you and can’t stop smiling. He’d forgotten how good it feels to be around you, to talk and flirt with you. Your hand grazes his and when he weaves his fingers through yours, you don’t resist. Your eyes shine as you look at him; you don’t have to say a word but he knows you’re feeling it too.

The two of you eventually make it over to Erwin and you blush when Levi brags about the film you made together and your acting skills.

“No, no,” you interject, “Levi is the real talent. His acting on set was some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Erwin smiles. “I’m sure you both complement each other well and that the movie will be spectacular. I’m looking forward to seeing it.” He gives Levi a knowing smile and lifts up his champagne glass.

“Levi! My buddy!” Zeke comes crashing through the group, clearly inebriated. “And who is this? It’s Miss Dior herself.”

“Oh you’ve seen those?” The way he says it brings a blush to your cheeks.

“Of course I have. You look absolutely mesmerizing in those ads,” he moves closer to you, “just like you do tonight.”

Zeke leans on a nearby table and gives a playful smirk. “How long are you staying in Tokyo? I could show you around, if you’d like.”

“She doesn’t need you showing her around anywhere.” Levi’s voice is forceful for the first time that night. You put a reassuring hand on his arm - you have to admit, you like seeing him a little jealous.

“Thanks for the offer, Zeke, but I already have extensive plans in Tokyo.” You give Levi a smile that lets him know that ‘he’ is the plan.

Erwin comes to the rescue of both of you. “Zeke, what’s this I hear about tattoos? Are we doing this tonight?” He puts an arm around Zeke and leads him away, giving you both a wink.

The restaurant is large and sprawling, built in the old Japanese style, but is an interesting mix of East and West, old and new. There’s a garden in the center with the main area and smaller, more private rooms surrounding it. Wanting to escape the noise and commotion, you lead Levi outside, “It’s a bit quieter out here.”

“And more beautiful,” Levi replies, as you walk across a small bridge crossing a koi pond.

“It really is beautiful out here. I’ve always loved Japanese gardens.”

“I wasn’t talking about the garden.” He moves closer to you as you lean against the banister of the bridge. “You look stunning.”

“You know why I chose hunter green, don’t you?” He shakes his head. “Because it’s Levi’s color.”

“Oh really?” He is in front of you now, his hand grazing your arm ever so slightly as he looks you up and down.

“Mmmhmm, he’s always been my favorite character.”

“Nice to know I have a fan.”

“I’m just one of many.”

“But you’re the only one that matters.”

That makes you giggle. “So flirty. Is that how you get the ladies these days?”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.” He looks at you with his piercing eyes. “It’s always been you.”

His words are like music to your ears, but you’re determined to stand firm. You can’t let him off so easily. “That didn’t seem to be the case six months ago.”

“Because I thought it was for the best, but I was wrong. So wrong. And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

His hand moves around your waist and he pulls you close. The lights of the garden shine in his dark grey eyes as his lips softly press against yours. You can’t help but return the kiss, your mouth opening slightly, inviting his tongue inside. When he moves away slightly, you realize you’d been holding your breath.

“I never should have let you go.”

“Levi, I..”

A few noisy and slightly drunk guests amble outside, ruining the moment. Without a word, Levi takes your hand and pulls you to a far corner of the garden, toward the private rooms. He pulls back the heavy, velvet curtains separating the room from the garden and gestures for you to enter. The room is small and intimate, decorated in a western style with a large, ornate mirror. You walk around, admiring the wingback chairs and gilded furniture, and then you feel Levi’s presence behind you.

His fingers lightly skim your bare arms, leaving a trail of heat coursing through your body. You close your eyes when you feel his warm breath against your neck, followed by soft kisses.

“Levi..I’m seeing someone..” you manage to say.

“Oh yeah?” He responds gently in your ear before kissing your earlobe. “You sure about that?”

When you open your eyes, you notice that you’re in front of the mirror and can see Levi kissing along your neck and shoulders. He looks up and grins.

“Right now I only see you and me.”

He continues kissing along your shoulder until the thin strap of your dress falls down your arm. You can’t resist him, you never could, and so you give in to your desires. You lean your body until your back is pressing against his chest. One of his hands is holding yours while the other is moving the fallen strap down lower, exposing your breast.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says as he looks at you in the mirror, his hand moving to cup your breast. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night.”

You guide his other hand lower, to the high slit of your dress, urging him to touch your thigh. “I missed you, Levi. So much.”

For you, it’s always been him as well. As much as you’ve tried to deny your feelings for him these past six months, all it took was one touch from him for it to all come back. And now you want more.

His hand finds its way between your thighs as his other hand massages your breast. “You’re already so wet for me,” he notices, as his fingers begin to rub your clit.

“You’re the only one who knows how to make me feel good,” you reply, then your breath catches as he pushes your panties to the side and sides a finger inside you.

It’s a beautifully erotic sight, watching yourself in the mirror as Levi pinches your nipple and pumps his finger in and out of you. You can’t help but let out a moan.

“‘Shhh, you don’t want someone to hear, do you?”

“I don’t care. Levi, I need you so badly.”

You turn around to kiss him, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the floor. Almost immediately, he has you pressed against the wall and is lifting your dress up to your waist. He’s unbuttoning his pants as you slide your panties down, but only get so far as taking them off one leg before he lifts that leg up and rubs his cock against you.

Levi has tunnel vision right now; all he can see is your perfect body, all he wants to hear are the moans of his name from your pretty mouth. And that’s exactly what he gets when he thrusts inside you. You bite your bottom lip as he pounds into you again and again. “I thought you didn’t care if someone heard us?”

“I’m trying to be good,” you reply breathlessly.

“Oh I think we’re well past being good.”

He pins your arm over your head as his other hand is still lifting your leg, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You kiss and suck on his neck, leaving a small mark.

“Careful there..”

“What? Makeup can cover it up,” you tease seductively, referring to the first time you and Levi made love.

He lets out a soft growl. “Then I suppose now we’re even.” He picks up the pace, watching as your breasts bounce up and down with each hard thrust. You’re driving him wild; every nerve in his body feels completely alive.

“Levi, I’m…”

He knows. He’s feeling it too. He kisses you long and hard, then feels your walls spasm around him. It’s just what he needs to push him over the edge, and as he cums inside you, it’s as if the whole world has stopped; only your uneven breaths mark the time passing.

You continue to spasm around his cock as your mind goes completely blank. You can’t explain it, but Levi elicits the longest, most intense orgasms from you. It’s just how your body reacts to him - you can’t explain it.

He says your name in your ear, his voice deep and raspy. “Will you forgive me? For all the time we wasted apart. I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

“Yes. Yes, I forgive you.” You run your fingers through his silky hair. “I know we can make this work.”

Of course you forgive him. You’d forgiven him the moment you laid eyes on him tonight; maybe even before that.

The bottom of your dress falls back over your legs and Levi gently pulls the straps back up on your shoulders. You are his, and he is yours - it’s always been this way, and now both of you know it. As you fix your hair and touch up your lipstick in the mirror, there’s a commotion in the garden.

“Leeeeeviiiiiiiii! Where are you? We’re getting tattoos!”

He’d know that yell anywhere: it’s Hange.

“Yeah, come on, Levi! We’re all getting tattoos!”

And Zeke is with them.

“Goddammit. Let’s stay here a little longer.”

You laugh. “You should do it…for memories.” You cup his cheek and give him a kiss. “Get it on your ass, so then only I can see it.”

At that, Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make this weirder than it already is.”

He takes your hand in his, then meets the screaming duo in the garden. “Ok, fine, let’s do this,” he resigns, as he leads you along to join the group.

“You want me to come too?”

“Of course.” His face is serious, but there’s a joy in his eyes. “I don’t intend on letting you out of my sight.”

“Yes!” Zeke exclaims. “Eren, Levi is in! Let’s go!!”

And so you walk, hand in hand, out of the restaurant to find the others.

——

“There’s no denying that the two of you have an incredible chemistry in the film. Did that come naturally?” the interviewer asks.

“I think I felt that spark between us almost immediately. Wouldn’t you say?” Levi answers.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” you reply fondly.

It’s the week of the Cannes Film Festival and you and Levi are on the interview circuit. After the AoT premiere, you broke up with your boyfriend and stayed with Levi in Tokyo, then went with him to Singapore and Seoul as the cast traveled from city to city. The month flew by and the next thing you knew, you were both traveling to France.

You’re together everywhere, and the paparazzi have quickly deduced that you're an item. It’s been a hot topic of all the celebrity and gossip sites, but neither of you care - a rare occurrence, for Levi especially, who has always valued his privacy intensely.

“And you’re actually a couple in real life, correct?”

“We are.” You answer tentatively. “He tolerates me, anyway.” You make light of it, but answering this question always makes you nervous, since you’re not quite sure how much Levi wants to share.

“More than tolerate,” Levi squeezes your hand, “she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to my life.”

He knew this question would come up, because it always does these days. But he’s realized, he’s not concerned with the gossip or the naysayers; he knows that whatever challenges come your way, the two of you can ride it out.

He believes this will work, because he’s in love with you. And after this interview is over, he’s going to tell you exactly that.

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[astarionxhappiness]

Astarion going to a nearby stream to bathe to stumble upon a naked and very embarrassed Tav who had similar ideas? 😛

A/N Well, This one really got away from me haha! But I hope it is to your liking. Thank you for the request! I had a ton of fun writing this <3 Word count: Little over 6,000 Warnings: Smut. Handjob. Some fingering. Astarion should probably be a warning in of himself, let's be honest here. And some fluff to sprinkle on top.

It had been a very long day of traveling, and the sun was starting to wane by the time the tents finally went up.

You had just reached the end of the mountain pass, setting up in a small valley that was, to your great pleasure, a very close travel to a hot spring a little ways into the woods.

The others had already had their turn bathing and enjoying the hot water, each taking turns to finish the work while still getting to enjoy the relaxing waters. And now, it was your turn to finally slip away. You informed Shadowheart of your leaving, feeling her squeeze your arm in fond passing as you headed off. You could hear the crickets starting to come alive as you trapsed towards your greatly anticipated destination.

Already you could feel the tension of a hard day's work leaving your shoulders the closer you got.

You let out a relieved sigh as you laid eyes on the large spring, watching a light layer of mist dancing across the top where the hot water met the cool evening air.

You moved over to the edge of it, finding a large rock to sit on and place your clothes and towel down.

You made quick work of brushing out your hair before standing to work on stripping off your clothes, dropping your weapon down beside the pile.

You let out a sigh as you shut your eyes, slipping down into the water until it reached just below your nose, letting your head hang back slightly as you let it take away the chill of the early spring air.

You were left peacefully for only a few minutes before the sound of rustling alerted you to the presence of something close by.

Staying almost completely submerged, you opened your eyes wearily as you looked around, though nothing out of the ordinary met your inquisitive gaze.

You took in a deep breath, assuming it to be nothing more than a rabbit, or perhaps a rodent of some kind. Whatever it was, it made very little noise.

You slipped under the water completely, eyes falling shut as you lingered like this for a time before coming back up, taking in a gasping breath.

you flipped your hair back behind you, wiping the water from your eyes before allowing them to come open as you stood up.

"Fuck!" You cried out in alarm when you looked over to see a tall pale figure leaning against a tree off to your right near the water, though far enough away that he was not easily attacked.

A smart move, on his part.

The pale elf's lips curled into a smirk as your cheeks went bright red, hands coming to cover yourself as best as possible.

"Astarion! What are you doing out here?" You demanded."How long have you been standing there??" You added with equally vehement embarrassment.

"I assure you my intentions were nothing more than pure, darling," he assured. "I merely came to bathe myself-" He waved a gesturing hand to his upper half, which you realized only then was devoid of clothing. "Though, I have to admit, darling" He went on, that infuriatingly self-approving smile never leaving his lips. "I'm afraid I cannot say I am disappointed in finding the waters already occupied. . "

His words made you only blush harder, though you kept your head stuck up with indignant determination.

"You still didn't answer my question," You stated, ignoring the flirtations that made your cheeks heat up further (a reaction Astarion did not fail to notice).

He chuckled, moving closer so he could lower his voice without causing difficulty for you to hear.

"Oh, not too long, I assure you, my sweet." He moved ever closer, curious to see if you would shrink back, or stay stubbornly in place in all your naked glory.

He was pleased to find it was ladder.

"As I said. . I just came to enjoy the water, darling." He lowered his tone to a smooth purr as he got closer to you, listening to your breath hitch slightly from the proximity, all too aware that your ass was on perfect display due to the angle at which he approached.

you couldn't help your gaze slipping down to glimpse at his finely chiseled chest, your mind wandering to what it might look like dripping wet. .

You bit your lip absently, then belatedly realized that the object of your involuntary lust was right in front of you with two perfectly functioning eyes.

He smiled more, your look not going unnoticed by the vampire spawn.

"I am happy to share the waters if you'd like, darling," He went on, stepping closer to you. "After all, it is always more fun with two. . " It was then that you deemed the close proximity a little too close, and took a flustered step backwards, huffing as you did so. You watched as he laughed, seeming to be enjoying his teasing quite a bit.

"You go on the other side," You decided, gesturing with your head. "I am almost finished anyways I suppose, and I don't imagine a slothful vampire spawn such as yourself would really want to make the journey all the way back to camp just to come right back in ten minutes." Your vague insult to his laziness made him feign offense, his hand coming up over his heart.

"And yet, you would make me travel all the way to the other side of the spring?" The objection that his offense seemed to zero in on took you off guard, making your hands nearly falter in covering yourself. He smiled as he noted your surprise.

"Very well. . But if you change your mind . ." He stepped closer, moving in a way that had your shoulders nearly brushing, causing your breath to stutter distractedly as his head leaned to the side lazily, his lids lulling as he looked at you. ". . I'm but a call away, beautiful." He sauntered on the edge of the water line, his back turned to you as he walked off to his designated part of the spring.

You shut your eyes, taking a moment to regain yourself mentally.

You had thus far managed to resist his flirtatious temptations, but lately you had found your resolve slowly. . Faltering.

You melted back down under the water, unable to help your eyes wandering over to his form, his back still turned to you as he finished taking off the rest of his clothing.

You quickly averted your gaze just as he began to turn, listening to the shifting of the water as he stepped into it.

You sunk down absently, unable to help one more glance once he was seated, water covering him from the mid torso and down. When you saw him not looking at you, your quick glance became a rude stare.

His back was resting against a large rock, the top of his head resting against it as well, showing off his jaw at an angle that only sharpened and defined it more. . His strong arms were stretched out, resting comfortably against the edge of the same rock.

You slipped down further absentmindedly in your sport as you played with your hair, ever distracted. So distracted, in fact, that you did not realize that going down any further than you already had been would lead to you inhaling water.

You came back up choking, trying to clear the invasion from your lungs and sinuses, making Astarion lift his head to look at you inquisitively.

You cursed his ability to see so well in the shrouded evening light, knowing full well he would be able to make out the embarrassment etched on to every inch of your face.

"Doing alright other there, love?" He asked. "Do you need someone to come hold you to help you avoid drowning?"

You gave him a death glare as you continued choking and coughing up the last bits of water.

"It wouldn't be a problem if-" You cut off, looking away as you continued to clear your throat.

"If? I'm sorry, darling. You really are quite far away, I'm afraid I can't hear you very well." The words were a lie to say the least, and the smile on his face told you he was fully aware of this fact.

Still, you found yourself for some reason taking the bait.

"If you are that hard of hearing, then by all means, come closer." The words left your mouth dryly.

"Well, if you insist. . " Your eyes widened as he began to rise from his spot, your head quickly turning just as his waist appeared from the water that kept him covered.

You absently pulled your knees up to cover your body self consciously, keeping your head turned as you listened all too intently to the sound of the elf approaching you with all the confidence of a whore in a brothel.

You felt your cheeks heating up again as he settled but a few feet to your left. "Well, that's better," He said, letting out a sigh as if winded from the journey. "I can hear you much better now. "Well then, what were we talking about, my sweet?"

You cleared your throat, looking over at him and freezing to find him even closer than you had anticipated.

He was already looking looking back at you, locking eyes instantly. You swallowed thickly, lips parting slightly, intending to speak, but finding yourself too distracted to actually get anything out. He was doing nothing to cover himself beneath the water, as you were doing yourself. You did everything in your power to ignore this knowledge, continuing to lock eyes with him as if scared you would have no control to where your gaze went if you broke the contact. "Something on your mind, darling?" He asking with false innocence, turning his upper half to face you, giving you his full and undivided attention.

You cleared your throat, mouth shutting as you looked away, blushing harder.

"You are just- very naked," You found yourself saying, as if he wasn't aware of this fact. A shiver ran down your spine listening to him laugh.

"Well, as are you, darling" He pointed out, his tone never losing that velvety note that worked so well to pull you in.

He shifted a bit closer, the water softly sloshing around his body as he did so.

"You know, I have always found it easier to bathe with someone," He went on, sounding more casual and matter-of-fact this time.

"Perhaps, so long as we are here together- we could . . Be of use to one another, hm? What do you say, beautiful? Assuming you could keep your embarrassment in check, that is," He smiled teasingly, making you look over at him.

"Be of use to one another?" You repeated, deadpanned.

"Hmm, yes." He gave a nod, going on to explain as he edged a little closer. "I could wash your back, you could wash mine. . What do you say, darling? I think this arrangement would work quite nicely." he ended the sentence with little space between you.

You bit your lip, staring at him distractedly.

". . just backs," You replied uncertainly, not entirely sure why you were agreeing to this ludicrous offer.

He smiled, fangs showing as his gaze fell absently to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze.

"As you wish," He replied readily.

"And, if you decide you'd like me to wash other parts of you . . I could always be easily swayed." You went to look down when your embarrassment got to you again, flushing violently as you quickly rethought this action and instead hung your head back to stare up at the sky.

"Just- shut up and turn around, you filthy elf," You replied with lightheartedness despite the obvious sheepishness you were feeling. He grinned, doing as he was told.

You grabbed the supplies you had set beside you on the dry ground, taking a cloth and bar of soap in either hand.

"I hope you intend to get your hair wet by the end of this," You commented as you went to work on his shoulders, eyes gazing down at the horrific scars painting his back. the sight of them always made your stomach churn.

Despite your somewhat combative and teasing relationship, you cared about Astarion a great deal. To think about all he had went through. . It made you dream about getting to inflict similar horrors upon Cazador.

"You are free to clean whatever part of me you'd like, my sweet." His teasing comment snapped you from your distracting thoughts, making you nudge his shoulder.

"Was this your actual plan?" You mused. "Walk in on me bathing so that you could get me to wash you so you wouldn't have to do the work yourself?" You couldn't see his face, but you knew he was smiling at the question.

"That would be quite a brilliant plan, wouldn't it? You do have a certain way about you, darling. Your touch is quite thrilling to experience, should one be so lucky to have the opportunity." You hesitated in your motions for a moment, biting your lip before continuing on, absently rubbing his muscles as you worked, easing the tension in his body.

You heard a soft gasp leave his lips as his head hung forward, making you hesitate once more in your motions.

"Did that hurt?" You ask, looking him over uncertainly.

"Quite the contrary, in fact," He breathed.

You can't help but smile to yourself, wordlessly starting again. The two of you fell into an amicable silence, an occurrence that was quite strange to experience with the vampire.

The only sounds that filled the air was the occasional gentle sighs of pleasure from him as you worked.

You got rather caught up in the sensation, his cool skin feeling pleasant in contrast to the hot water that covered your stomach and legs, the sensation of his muscles relaxing beneath your touch giving you a certain gratification.

You took in a deep breath, sighing softly, feeling content.

"We should do your hair," You said after a time, thoughtless to the fact that he could in fact do this himself quite easily.

"So I suppose we are doing more than just backs, hm?" He replied with a teasing, flirtatious smile tossed over his shoulder.

"Unless you'd rather do it yourself," You retorted, giving him a flat look. The corner of your lips tugged upwards into a fond smile however, matching the glint in your eye that gave away your true feelings on the matter.

Though you wouldn't dare tell the cocky bastard, you had always wanted to run your hands through his hair. It just looked so. . soft. silky. . .

You watched him move to a deeper part of the spring to slip under it easier, bending forward to soak his head before moving back over to face his back to you once more.

You managed to get halfway through the process seamlessly before you accidentally tugged a bit on his hair, and froze at the soft moan that left his lips as his head fell back ever so slightly against the touch.

The reaction . . did things to you.

You forced in a deep breath as you slowly resumed lathering soap into his hair, ignoring the stirring anticipation in your stomach. You found your fingers wandering distractedly, letting them run down the nape of his neck, shuddering as another breath left his lips. "Okay- you're done," You gasped out when you felt this one go alarmingly between your legs.

You gave his back a gentle push towards the deeper part of the spring for good measure.

He glanced behind him to look at you, his eyes falsely inquisitive, reading your face like a book.

You stared at him with growing sheepishness before you couldn't handle the tension building between the two of you, and proceeded to slip further under the water, bringing a foot up instead to nudge him with. A small, meek plea to make him stop looking at your red face.

This earned an amused smile from him, and he went willingly to go rinse his hair.

You watched with far more interest than you cared to admit, unable to tear your eyes away as he resurfaced, running a hand over the front of his hair to stop water from falling into his eyes.

You wondered how a man that had not seen himself for two hundred years still managed to show himself to others with so much confidence.

"Your turn, then, darling?" He said as he moved back over through the water, making you swallow thickly.

He moved to sit in front of you, staring at you intently.

"We can do it this way, if you'd rather not turn around," He said after a stretch of silence, making your brain reactivate.

"Right, sorry," you breathed, flushing at your mistake.

You turned yourself in a manner that was careful not to show off your breasts in the process, leaning your head forward as you shut your eyes, finding your stomach twisting anxiously in anticipation waiting for his touch.

You shuddered when it was finally received. This soft brush of his fingertips running down the back of your arm, followed by the sensation of him brushing your wet hair over either one of your shoulders.

"That’s better," He purred, letting wet hands run over your shoulder shoulder blades.

He hummed when he felt goosebumps rise across your skin, your body hot and reactive.

He grabbed the soap, lathering it on his hands, rather than using the bar as you had done.

"I must warn you, darling. . I can be quite thorough." He murmured the last part near your ear, making your body shudder as he brought his hand to run down your spine, watching in satisfaction as it instinctually arched against his touch.

he worked deft fingers along your upper half above the water line, rubbing your muscles in the most pleasing of ways.

"'Starion," You breathed before you could stop yourself when you felt his hands slip down to grasp your waist, his thumbs pressing softly into the divot in your lower back.

"Yes, my sweet?" He purred, feeling your hips shift against his embrace.

You blushed realizing you had not spoken his name out of the intent of starting a conversation, but out of something far more carnal.

You bit your lip, trying to think of something to say.

"Uh. . " Your mind trailed off as your head absently leaned to the side when you felt one of his hands leave your hip to go to recollecting your hair when a few strands strayed from where he had put it over your shoulder.

He did not concern himself waiting for you to think of something to stay, instead he went to letting his soapy hand run up the side of your exposed neck, listening to your breath hitch as his palm moved to run over your throat, his thumb grazing over your pulse.

He felt your head tilt back willingly, his eyes roaming the side of your neck with growing hunger.

he let his hand fall from your throat, grabbing the rag and dipping it under the water before using it to wash off the soap, meanwhile his other hand went to running up and down your hip in a motion that was decidedly more sexual than it was helpfully cleaning you off.

You could feel your heart beginning to pound in your chest, anticipation taking over your entire being as you resisted the urge to push back against him, wanting to know what it would feel like to have his chest pressed firmly against your back.

"Would you like me to give you more, darling?" He cooed, his lips close to your ear, making you shiver.

"I can give you everything you'd like. . You just have to say it for me, my love. " He let his lips brush against your earlobe, making a soft whine leave your lips before you could stop it.

"Oh, god. . " You couldn't resist your body's desire to press back against him when you felt a hand slip in front of you to press against your stomach.

You gasped at the sensation, listening to Astarion's breath hitch at the sudden feeling of your ass being pressed between his legs, your back warm and soft against his chest.

You looked up at him with darkened eyes, anticipation threaded into every nerve in your body as he looked down at you silently.

You both moved at the same time, meeting halfway to connect your lips in a heated, lustful kiss.

You brought your hand up to the back of his hair, tugging softly at the wet locks as you felt his hand slide from your stomach up to cup one of your breasts, his muscular arm resting across your torso.

His lips were cold, the taste of them positively intoxicating. "Astarion," You breathed, pulling away from him breathlessly as you regained some control over yourself.

"Yes, darling?" He let his lips fall down to kiss at your neck, resisting the urge to let his teeth sink into the soft flesh for just a small taste. . Your next words, however, had him freezing in every motion.

"Are you sure that you want this?"

You looked up at him as he pulled back, staring down at you with shock.

"What?" He finally questioned, frowning with a remarkable amount of skill.

"I just. . " You turned to face him, biting your lip as you cupped his jaw.

"I-. . I know you have things in your past that. . I just want to make sure you're okay with this. . That it is truly something that you want, because if it isn't, or if you aren't sure, we don't need to." You looked at him with tender, worried eyes, clearly uncertain about it.

He found himself unsure how to respond. No one had ever stopped to ask him such a question before. .

He looked at you silently, taking in the sensation of soft, warm skin. The tender stroke over your thumb against his cheek. Your imploring, gentle eyes.

You had moved your body away from his in a manner that left you touching him in a far more tender way than it was sexual, something he also was not used to receiving,

He felt his gaze fall downcast, letting his hand come to run up and down your waist tenderly.

You let him remain silent, allowing him the time he needed in order to get his thoughts together and truly think about his answer.

He looked up at you finally, bringing a finger to hook under your chin. "I want you," He replied finally, leaning forward to press his lips slowly to yours, making your eyes flutter shut.

"I want to feel you. . " He used the hand on your hip to gently but firmly pull you on to his lap.

"I want to taste you." He grasped your jaw with his thumb and index finger as he leaned up, sliding his tongue past your lips with dizzying skill.

You let your arms wrap around his shoulders, a hand coming into the back of his hair, tangling loosely into the wet locks as you wrapped your tongue around his.

You shifted your hips against his when you couldn't take the sensation of being still any longer, listening to the soft groan leave his throat as you did, encouraging you to roll your hips again.

You could feel him hardening beneath you, making your stomach twist and your clit throb.

Sharp fangs nipped your bottom lip when he failed to resist the urge to taste more than just your tongue. He sucked at the cut, dragging his tongue over it as he hummed softly, listening to you moan at the sensation.

You pulled away after a time, licking the drop of blood from your lip, watching him stare intently as you did so.

Wordlessly, you gathered your hair to one side, and tilted your head back to offer your neck to him should he want it, watching him fall forward with hunger.

He did not dive in fangs first, however. He brought his hand to the other side of your neck to grasp as he dragged his tongue over the soft, wet skin, flicking and swirling the muscle in a way that had you shuddering.

a whimper left your lips when you felt him finally sink his teeth slowly into the skin, your hands tightening softly against him as you let your hips roll against his to even out the pain.

Your eyes fell shut when he began to suck at the wounds, moaning against your neck as he used his hand to pull you closer to his mouth, making your breath hitch. You could feel your head fogging pleasantly the longer he went, his cock hardening beneath you.

You lifted yourself up off his lap slightly, bringing a hand down to wrap around his dick instead, making his body jolt softly at the unexpected touch.

"I want you to focus on your own pleasure," You breathed, eyes lulling shut.

Fuck he felt big in your hand. . .

The thought distracted you further from any pain he was causing by feeding, and the signs of his pleasure numbed the rest for you.

you slowly stroked your hand up to his head, pushing back down equally slow, setting a firm, deliberate pace that had him moaning and sighing in pleasure against your neck.

He only grew harder as you worked, your head feeling more and more dizzy as he continued to lap his tongue and suck against your throat.

"Star, ease up, love," You breathed finally when you felt it was starting to cause you problems.

He pulled away, dizzy with pleasure as he looked up at you, blood staining his lip, drizzling slightly down his chin.

You wiped away the blood before pushing your lips against his, picking up the pace of your hand, making him groan into your mouth.

you felt the ache between your legs only worsen, desperately wanting to feel him inside of you.

"Hm- fuck," You moaned against his lips when you felt his hand slip down to bring two fingers to rub your swollen clit. Your hips immediately reacted by grinding down against his fingers, your hand moving faster against his fully hard cock.

"You looked positively delicious, darling" He purred, his voice just a touch breathless from lust.

"You are going to feel so good, aren't you. ." He leaned down to lick the blood dripping down your neck, slipping his fingers down to tease your entrance and slowly pushing in. he replaced the attention to your clit with his palm as he did so, causing you to whimper and drop your forehead down against his shoulder.

He pressed his forehead against the side of your head, eyes shutting as he took in a deep breath, feeling your blood coursing through him, giving him strength he very much wanted to use to both your advantage. Still, he waited, finding he was rather enjoying the intimate position. Wanting to further this, he let off his teasing to grab your waist with one hand, using the other to taking yours off of his cock before letting it settle on your other hip to pull you back down against his lap.

thus settled, he wrapped his arms around your back, pressing you close as he took in a deep breath, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he rubbed his hand against your spine softly. You couldn't help but smile, rolling your hips slowly against his for a gentle pleasure to ease both your aching, enjoying the intimate position he had maneuvered the two of you into.

He took in a sharp gasp when your lips suddenly found his sweet spot at the crook of his neck, his arms tightening softly around you. You worked your tongue eagerly, wanting him to get as much pleasure out of the experience as possible.

He let a hand trail down while you did this, grabbing your ass and squeezing before pushing you down against his cock a little harder, groaning at the feeling as his eyes shut.

"Are you ready, love?" He breathed, knowing he was quite ready. You nodded as you looked up, cupping his face with two tender hands, shutting your eyes as you brush your nose against his before connecting your lips.

He helped you shift your hips, listening to a soft moan leave your lips as his tip slipped past your entrance, pushing into you ever so slowly.

He got roughly a quarter of the way in before you had to pause, feeling his fingers come down to rub your clit as you slowly moved up and down, whimpering as you took move of him inside of you.

You worked slowly, taking your time as you both simply enjoyed the sensation of it all. happy to forget the stresses that awaited you outside of this moment.

he opened his eyes when you broke the kiss to drop your head back instead when he was nearly fully inside of you, bouncing slowly as you worked on taking the last bit of him. Your back arched toward him when you finally managed it, a shuddered moan leaving your soft lips as your eyes rolled back.

you put your hands on his shoulders, feeling his hand squeeze your ass as you started to move up and down his length with a steady pace, connecting your lips once again as it slowly picked up heatedly.

You could feel him stretching you out in a way that made you ache for more, and yet feel incredibly satisfied just as you were.

Water sloshed around you as your pace gained speed, your breasts pressing firmly against him as you moved, rolling your hips in a way that had him groaning delights.

He grabbed the back of your wet hair, pulling softly as you did the same to his.

You were panting as you kept up the pace relentlessly, his own panting and moaning keeping you going even as you began to feel tired from the movement.

You gasped when he suddenly grabbed your hips, pulling you off his cock completely and without warning as he made you stay high enough that he could attack your breasts lustfully for a heated minute before turning you in the water, putting you beneath him.

"Surely you did not think I would let you do all the work tonight, did you, my sweet?" He asked as he hooked your leg with his under the water, towering over you with a dominance that had a shiver running down your spine.

"I wouldn't have mind," You replied distractedly, though your words were quite genuine. You were breathless as you stared up at him, eyes meeting his steadily.

the response made him smirk, chuckling as he leaned down to kiss you, pushing back into you at the same time.

The motion caused a moan to force its way from your lips, your body writhing beneath him as you brought your leg up higher to wrap around his waist.

his lips trailed down to your neck again after a time, sucking down the last remnants of blood that drove his lust even further.

his hips snapped against yours powerfully, hitting deep inside of you with each thrust,

"be a good girl," He breathed, pressing his forehead against yours as he went to a rapid pace. "And clench that wet cunt for me." He bit your lip, groaning as he felt you do exactly as you were told, making you almost painfully tight,

you whimpered as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, tugging at his hair needily, grinding your hips against his, desperate for friction that was made difficult to achieve due to the water.

he pressed his body against yours after a time, grinding inside of you as he pressed his forehead against the crook of your neck.

the soft gasps of pleasure that left his lips in a stream had you feeling positively dizzy.

you used your leg to help him push deeper, reaching down behind him between his legs to lightly play with his balls, only enhancing his gasps and moans.

you could feel your stomach twisting into knots of pleasure listening to the intoxicating sounds, your eyes shut as you pushed your head back against the ground, listening to the sloshing water caused by his grinding movement.

"Are you going to cum, darling?" You asked, playing with his hair, giving the occasional gentle tug.

he groaned in response, lifting his head up to drop his forehead down against yours.

"Not until you do," He assured, adamant about ensuring his lovers were taken care of first.

you bit your lip, dragging your thumb across his balls in a manner that had his cock twitching inside of you.

"I want to feel you cum," You breath, stealing a kiss from the man. "I don't want you to wait for me if you think you are going to, okay?" You shifted beneath him needily, fairly certain there was a good chance feeling him orgasm would most likely push you over the edge yourself.

he looked down at you, looking almost troubled. As though he didn't know what to do with this.

"I assure you," You went on before he could formulate a sentence. "I am fairly sure that if I don't get off feeling you cum inside of me, it probably won't take more than a stiff breeze to finish me off after."

You couldn't help smiling when you watched a similar expression touch his lips, a soft, breathless laugh coming out of him.

"If you are sure, darling," he decided, brushing his nose against your cheek mindlessly as he started to pick up short thrusts again, groaning at the sensation.

you couldn't resist bringing your hand up to squeeze his ass as he did this, making him jolt from surprise in a way that caused you to moan freely.

he repeated a similar thrust again to see if he could get you to mimic the sound. when he succeeded in doing so, he repeated the pace and angle at which he did it, snapping his hips in short, powerful thrusts.

"Is that where it feels good, darling?" He purred, licking your earlobe before nipping it teasingly. "Do you think I could get you to come with nothing more than my cock?" You moaned in response, grabbing at his flexed biceps, his arms encircling your head.

"You are so beautiful for me," He moaned, kissing your jaw. "Absolutely delicious. ." He snapped his hips a little harder, leaning down to try and suck a little more blood from you.

When he found the reserve dry, he felt weak to resist the temptation to create a new wound, sinking his teeth into you, twitching again as he felt you clench around him, whimpering in a mix of pain and pure ecstasy as you gripped his arms tighter, feeling yourself being thrown towards the edge.

He took a few large swallows of blood, feeling it energize his entire body, his cock swelling inside of you as his hips snapped harder and with more vigor.

He got to a nearly unbearable speed before he suddenly pushed inside of you and stayed.

your breath hitched when you felt him spill cum inside of you, grinding with desperation as you felt him slowly pull out before slamming back into you, moving with the waves of pleasure that rolled through him.

The sounds he made while doing so had your stomach twisting with pure lust, and it took little more than a few circles against your clit with two fingers to have you following over the edge.

He grabbed the side of your hair with a gasp when he felt your orgasm hit, his mouth hanging open, eyes shut tightly as he pressed his forehead firmly against your own.

You brought your free hand to wrap around him, your leg helping push him down against you as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

You laid there panting into one another’s mouths as you came down, keeping each other close as your bodies relaxed and melted against the other.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek dizzily after a time, making his eyes open to look down at you.

"Now what am I going to do with you," He breathed, a smile dancing on his lips.

He was not used to the tender affections you were offering him, but he found he quite liked it.

you let out a soft laugh, bringing your hand up to cover the back of his as he cupped your cheek tenderly.

he shut his eyes again, pressing his forehead against yours once more as he finished catching his breath.

"I am afraid we may need another bath," You sighed as he shifted off of you, propping yourself up on your elbows as you listened to him chuckle.

"I believe you would be right, darling," he replied as he sat up one his knees. "Come back into the water. . I promise to actually wash you this time. That is, so long as you can control yourself around me once again. ." he added playfully, making you smile, sitting up and kissing him lingeringly.

"We'll see. . Though I can't promise my hands won't get a little friendly." you gave him a playful, sly smile before slipping away from him to go back into the water, feeling a hand on your waist as he moved in after you.

It was nearing midnight before you two finally managed to properly bathe, but by then, it was a matter of you trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

And when that battle was lost, he laid with you near the spring, softly stroking the side of your cheek as you slept peacefully curled up warmly in his cool embrace.

[hanjist]

take a bite.

content - stray kids’ seungmin. gn!reader. angst. fluff in the end. jisung mention.

warning - none.

word count - 760.

a/n - inspired by take a bite by beabadoobee. not proof read.

moments that cease to exist. what is it about seungmin that infatuates you? is it him or is it really your imagination? even he’s confused about why you like him.

seungmin has known about your crush since forever, meaning since you blurted it out to one of his blabbermouth friends during a party hosted by one of the sororities on your campus. how were you supposed to know that it was jisung? you were so drunk to the point your vision became blurry.

seungmin has never had a crush or been crushed on by someone, which is why he questions you. why do you like him? he’s not all that as you deemed he was. he’s very school oriented, isolated, and not that sociable. is that what you like in a guy? it’s all he wonders about.

you on the other hand, portrayed him to be the picture perfect boyfriend you’d want in your life. one who would make time for you. who would sacrifice anything for you. who loves you. but that’s not seungmin.

if anything, he’s far from it.

his little glances at you through the halls and the parties you both attend. you think it’s because he’s trying to get a glimpse of you, truth is that he’s wondering how you got invited. when he talks to you and makes conversation. you think it’s because he wants to know more about you, it’s only because you’re in the same economics class as him and he’s just making connections. reality is that everything you think of are moments that cease to exist.

your attention, the things you think about him, you in general… it gives him an ego boost. it makes him cocky about himself now. yet he still questions why everything about you. is that really what you want in a man?

seungmin can’t help but wonder, so he takes matters in his own hands. the moment he runs into you, he reaches his hand out to stop you in your tracks. you look up at him, the sun shining in your face as you’re standing outside of the library. you squint and place your hand on top of your forehead to shield you from the beams of light. seungmin finds it cute how your face scrunches but instead of focusing on you, he needs to get the story straight and his questions answered.

“y/n? is it true that you like me?”

“oh, i didn’t expect that! uh, i mean secrets already out so might as well say yes…”

“so… you do?”

seungmin’s face only shows confusion at your previous response.

“yes, i do. is that all you wanted to ask?”

you glance around him, looking at your friends across the pathway, watching you talk to seungmin.

“no. not just that.”

seungmin tries to get the words out, but his body betrays him and his voice goes silent when trying to spit out what he wants to say. he attempts again and ends up stammering. he takes a deep breath then sighs before he makes his final attempt.

“why me?”

“why not you?”

you’re confused at his second question. really— why not him?

“i think im a little conceited honestly. also, ive never been liked by anybody before. how come it has to be you who likes me? im not athletic, not that smart, hell… im not even sociable! your admiration for me is giving me one hell of an ego boost though.”

your mind goes back to the reality you face as you look at seungmin. he’s right, why did you like him? it was all a facade. every moment you thought about him was just all in your imagination, your delusions.

“but don’t get me wrong, y/n. i think i like you too.”

think? he thinks he likes you?

“what do you mean by think?”

“im not sure. i just never explored my feelings, even if its you.”

boy, you sure are being cocky right now seungmin!

“you don’t seem to think before you speak.”

you respond to him while crossing your arms. seungmin slaps his hands on his cheeks and drags them down his face.

“you’re right… sorry.”

a moment of awkward silence between you makes you both tense up.

“uh… sorry. i might’ve crossed your boundaries. i’ll leave you alone now.”

as he turns to walk away, he puts his hands in his front pockets. you notice how his ears have turned red.

“seungmin, wait-“

he immediately turns back to you.

“want to figure this out over dinner later?”

you take your chances.

“sure.”