#i don't remember how i know this but i have a feeling it was a podcast where i learned valtteri was a pallbearer at jules' funeral.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[bi-writes]

thinking about being a new lieutenant working with laswell and getting to meet her a-team, tf141, and immediately clashing with your equivalent. that other lieutenant that wears a fucking costume and glares whenever he sees you, simon fucking riley. (kinda dark, 18+)

you hate him. you hate how good he does in the field. it sickens you when you see how every knife he throws hits its target with disgustingly perfect accuracy. you sneer when he aims his rifle, each bullet going exactly where he wants it to go because he's that fucking good, look at him, big man with a big fucking head and a big--

god, it's so frustrating to be out here for so long. on a cot, so far away from everything, reporting back to laswell and then spending time with a task force who is so intelligent on the field but shares one fucking brain cell off of it.

and it's so lonely. it's so lonely, and you feel so far away, and when you show up in front of ghost's room that evening, you don't even exchange words as he steps aside, letting you slink into the dark of it. you don't speak as he crowds you against the door, as he pushes you up against it, when he reveals the lower half of his face so he can kiss you and taste you in every way he's wanted to since he met you. you're so fucking annoying, you crawl under his skin, and when he tastes you, he sucks, his tongue tracing the inside of your mouth as he tugs his cargo pants just under his cock and hoists you up around his waist.

it's just stress relief, you tell yourself as he fucks you against the rattling door. i just need a little relief, is what you say to yourself as he mumbles against yours lips, gripping the fat of your hips in his big hands and putting his cock to good use. he's not gentle, but you don't want him to be. he's too good at what he does, you were hoping he would have fault in one fucking area of his life, but even like this, he shows you just how well he fucks and just how big he really is, everywhere.

please, please, please--! you beg. he snickers, and it's mean, and he's sucking a warm bruise into your neck when he mutters, "tha'sit, swee'eart. we both know who's really in charge, eh? yeah--yeah, good girl--y'r such a good girl--"

and you are. cum soaked thighs, your mouth still on his when he finally comes, grunting as he fills you so full, it's dripping onto your thighs, onto his, dampening the clothes neither of you bothered to take off. and when you leave, you tell yourself this will never happen again, that ghost will keep this a secret because he hates you just as much, that ghost is discreet and quiet and values his privacy, and if you don't speak of this again, neither will he. it suddenly comforts you how closed off he is.

so it does surprise you when the next morning comes, and you go to sit with your team to eat, that ghost snarls when you try and take a seat beside him. you expect this to be a rude gesture, but you squeak when he grips you around the waist and forces you into his lap. you stiffen, but his sergeants barely bat an eye. the braid of your hair is yanked backwards, and you gasp when you feel his breath against your ear, even through the mask.

"the casual shaggin' sort of deal? not m'thing, luvvie. now eat y'r breckie, swee'eart, 'm fuckin' hungry, and 'm not very patient."

he used to think having one of his sergeant's underneath him was the kind of power-play that got him right off.

wrong.

nothing like fucking a pretty little lieutenant good enough she can't fucking remember how to speak.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[zyafics]

omg hi!! hope ur doing well i love ur writing btw, (play fake is one of my fav fics ive EVER read!!)

could u do a fic where rafe and reader are like best friends, and they’ve always both kinda liked each other but they dont really act upon it, until rafe gets a buzzcut and reader starts acting like real shy and clumsy around him bcs she’s shocked abt how he could get even MORE attractive, and then he gets linda confused so he asks her why she’s acting so different and then she tells him? make it as smutty and fluffy as u want! 🫶🫶

first off, ily 🥹 and omg, YES!! i've been thinking about this ever since i got your req in my inbox, so here's my very earnest attempt at doing it justice 🩷

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

pairing rafe cameron x bsf!female reader

reader type kook, spontaneous, loves adventure, hates silence, loves noises, doesn't exactly like her reality, and friends with topper and kelce, but is only close to rafe!

content (5.3k words) 18+, fluff, smut, soft!rafe to reader only, protected p in v, f receiving oral, lots of banter!, nicknames used: baby and wildflower.

dedication to @mintforadollar for helping me with the nickname and for @erwinsvow for her lovely fic, which i drew inspiration from and i've been obsessing over for the past two weeks <3

lıllılı Wildflower by 5 Seconds of Summer

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"I want to run away."

It takes a moment for Rafe to register your confession and his response is a drowsy laugh. "Buy a guy dinner first."

You let out a groan, slumping against your wrinkled sheets and abundant pillows spread across your bed. "I'm being serious, Rafe. I'm tired of this house. It's too empty and quiet. I can't stand it. At night, I think I can hear my skin buzzing."

Rafe is accustomed to your sporadic calls regarding whatever issues you had with the world. Last week, it was about the insufficient amount of family portraits that frame the halls of your mansion.

"Maybe you just need to change your sheets."

"Stop!" You chastise. Rafe chokes up with another beat of laughter, low and rich with the deep timbre of his voice. The sound temporarily draws you away from your rant, igniting a small ember in your stomach. You brush away those tingly thoughts. "You're not listening to me."

"I think I'm listening to you perfectly fine, wildflower." He reassures, the solemnity of his tone takes you off the edge. Rafe shuffles on the other line, moving to a sitting position against his headboard. "What do you want? Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You cower from his offer, tucking one of your pillows under your chin. "You don't have to..."

"Don't get all shy with me now. You can't act this way when you're waking me up in the dead of night to report about your getaway plans."

"I feel bad."

Rafe sighs, getting off his bed. He knows the outcome of this conversation and rather prepares himself for the short drive. "I'm heading over."

"I could walk."

"It's freezing outside."

"Your house is down the block. I can survive."

"I'm already out the door. Just stay put." Rafe announces and before he's about to disconnect the call, he adds. "I'm serious."

He arrives in record time. Honking his truck with no regards for the nearby neighbors and you pad downstairs with a bag, descending down the driveway to the passenger side of his truck. A little shiver travels down your spine at the cool North Carolina weather.

"God, what did I tell you?" He scolds, noticing your lack of outwear, and reaches for the blanket in the backseats he keeps just for you. He throws it at your face, suffocating your air with a fluffy white fleece. You roll your eyes, covering your shoulders with it as Rafe reverses. "Where do you want to go?"

"Thought I'm supposed to buy you a meal first."

He doesn't bother entertaining your retort with a glance and flicks the side of your head with his fingers. You giggle. "We're not running away."

"Who said you're included in this adventure? I remember it being a one-person job."

Rafe scoffs. "You can't run away. You'd miss me too much."

"No, you'd miss me too much." You tease back, watching his lips pull to an upward curve at your words. It makes your heart flutters, knowing you always manage to get this side of Rafe. To the rest of Outer Banks, Rafe is seen as a precarious, self-absorbed playboy, but to you, he's your best friend.

And a little more.

The truck parks on the roadside of Tannyhill, the silhouettes of the estate surrounded by shadowy oak trees and a deep reflection of the moon on their waterfront view. Rafe doesn't make a move to leave, nor turn off the engine, before he turns to you.

"You okay?" He asks gravely, all humor stripped off his handsome features. You feel the air of your lungs stolen, at the amount of attention he's paying you, and the atmospheric change turns you to a bashful version of yourself.

"Fine." You answer, looking to your lap. "You know..."

Despite your house being a near-identical model to Rafe's, you hate yours. It's nothing about the architecture but rather the emptiness of the hallways. The cold floors sweep with minimalist decors. The echoes in the chambers where you can hear every little whirl in the air conditioner and creaks in the pipes. You'd rather be at Tannyhill.

Rafe doesn't say anything for the next few moments, observing you, before conceding a sigh. "Tell you what. I'll take you out on the Druthers tomorrow. We'll go bright and early, sail out for a couple of hours, watch the sunrise and it'll be something."

You lift your head, eyes lit up. "Is this our escape?"

"We gotta come back, though."

You frown but the offer remains enticing. It's better than nothing.

"Okay, deal." You nod, holding out your pinkie finger. Rafe scoffs at your gesture, but nonetheless, returns it. "Don't look so glum. You get to hang out with me."

"You do realize we have about three hours of sleep?"

You glance at the clock on his dashboard. He's right. But, you don't want to hold it off till another day. "I can go by myself. Just give me the keys for tomorrow."

He rolls his eyes, as if he would even consider that suggestion, and shakes his head. "I'm coming with you."

"Aren't you afraid you won't get your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up and get in the house."

You laugh and hop out of his truck. When you enter through his bedroom, you throw your bag to a random corner and stroll over to his closet in search for one of Rafe's tees to sleep in.

When you settle on something, you strip out of your clothes—in the middle of his bedroom, just as Rafe enters—and exchange it for his shirt. He had little regard for your act, having grown accustomed to you changing in front of him and vice versa. 

All Rafe does is pull off his own shirt, because he likes to sleep naked, and turns back to you. Unlike him, you're never going to get used to seeing him naked—the defined muscles of his chest, the toned planes of his abs, all those hours spent at the gym are clearly not wasted.

You flush, realizing you're ogling him longer than appropriate, and lift your gaze to find a smirk curving his lips. "Oh, shut it," you push his shoulders, causing him to laugh. He takes the opportunity to capture your hand, pulling the both of you onto his mattress, and you yelp.

Rafe changes your position so you're facing him, an arm sprawls over your waist, and there's about a couple of inches of space between the two of you. Here, in the low streams of the moonlight glistening through the veiled curtains and the faint aroma of his cologne on his pillows, you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

You say nothing. He says nothing, You stare into his cerulean eyes, knowing all this little emotions you're feeling all over—the light pricks on your skin where he touches you, the lapse in your breathing from how attentive he is, and the sharp incline of your heart rate pulsing through your veins—is because of him.

His voice is low when he says, "you know you're my best friend, right?"

You couldn't find it in you to answer. You just nod.

Rafe swallows hard, not having the ability to string together the next sentence. Instead, all he does is nod along, leaning forward to place a light kiss on your forehead, before falling asleep.

The next morning, just an hour before the sunrise, Rafe and you head to the ports to board the Druthers. Despite the lack of adequate sleep, you were giddily and strumming with high energy. He holds out his hand to guide you up the stairs, afraid your enthusiasm would cause you to miss a step. 

When the Druthers is far enough from shore, it pulls to a halt, gently bobbing on the ocean waves of the tame morning. You settle on the deck and Rafe slides into the spot next to you. Here, you have the perfect view of the sun slowly rising from the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of red, orange and yellow.

You're grinning. You're feeling much better, especially after your melodramatic episode. Your head rests on Rafe's chest, observing the skyline until the sun reaches its acme, while he watches you. Something about you, happy, content, and with him brings a warmth no one can replicate.

"We have to go swimming." You announce suddenly, twisting your head to look at him with excitement bubbling on your features, doe eyes pleading with a want.

His expression is flat, trying to contain his emotions. "It's seven in the morning."

"So? When has that stopped me before?"

"It's freezing cold."

"That's your excuse for everything." You scoff, before tilting your head in a challenge. "Are you scared of a little water, Rafe Cameron?"

There's a twinkle in your eyes, something about the way you talk to him, he would never allow from anyone else. It's just you. He had to look away, pretending to shake his head from the idea but knowing, at the end, he lost.

With a long dip into the ocean, you swim around the Druthers with light splashes thrown in his face, causing Rafe to chase after you for your little stunt. When the pair of you returned to the boat, dripping wet on the floor deck, laughter exchanging at the break of dawn.

"You cheated!" You accuse, grinning.

"I did not. You're just slow."

When you change out of your bikini and Rafe changes out of his swim trunks, you return to the cockpit where Rafe dons a new attire: khaki pants, a polo shirt, and his backward baseball cap. The air shifts, a more solemn expression on his face.

"You had enough now, wildflower?" He tips his head to your direction, as you approach him. "Ready to return back to the real world?"

You groan. "What's so special about that place?"

"Nothing that matters to you," he declares, "but I have a couple of errands I have to run today. I have to get back, but I won't leave until you're feeling better."

"Hm." You consider your satisfaction. Standing before Rafe, you watch as his lips curl in amusement at the way you're mauling through the finer details. The itinerary of your day and whether it was enough. When your eyes lock with his, you offer him a sweet smile, albeit a little reluctant.

"What?"

You don't answer him, reaching for his hat and taking it off his head, before plopping it over your own as a keepsake souvenir. "Now, I am."

—

After spending your afternoon with Topper and Kelce at the Country Club, distracting them from their tee time with your commentary about their swings, Rafe finally arrives to join you.

But it's different.

When Rafe said he had a couple of errands to run, you didn't ask for their specifics. He just said he'll join you later and you were content with that assumption.

You should've prepared yourself.

Rafe got a new haircut; a buzz that took away his dirty blond locks and a clean fade on the sides. For some reason, it makes your heart accelerate. Your breath shortens. Rafe has always been attractive before but now, you couldn't even look at him.

When he tries to approach you in greeting, you dip out of the way and return to Topper and Kelce. However, in the middle of your path, you nearly tripped over some hazardously-abandoned golf club one of the boys threw out, but Rafe caught you. A hand on your elbow, his brows drawn together in concern.

"You good?" He asks. You can't help but let your eyes stray up to his hairline, finding it voided of the curtain bangs it previously occupies and the strands you like to mess with. Your gaze instantly drops to the ground.

"I'm–I'm fine." You stutter, heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassing fact that you couldn't even make a clean getaway. Rafe helps you find your balance and you slip out of his grasp as you excuse yourself back to the other Kooks.

That's how the rest of the evening went. Through another round of golf and a dinner at the restaurant inside the Country Club, you try to ignore Rafe to the best of your abilities. It was a difficult task but a necessary one. Your emotions were fuzzy and harder to control. You couldn't even look at your best friend without flushing or revealing everything on your face.

You thought you could wait it out till you get home.

"Come on, wildflower." Rafe grabs your wrist, just as you're about to join Topper in his car, and you turn to face his contempt expression. Annoyance written over his features. "I'm driving you home."

"No, it's fine. Top said he can give me a ride—"

"We live nearby each other. There's no point for Top to do all that. Right?" Rafe cuts a hard look to the blond in the driver seat, to whom easily backs off with two hands raised in surrender. Coward. Rafe turns back to you. "Let's go."

You end up in the passenger seat of his truck. On the long drive back to Figure Eight, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Often, you would fidget with the stereo, messing with Rafe's presets on country and rap stations, to which he always has to swat your hands away. Today, you sat obediently in your seat, hands tucked between your thighs, looking anywhere but Rafe.

"You're not going to listen to music?" He asks, trying to cut the silence. You shake your head.

"I'm not feeling it."

You try to count the seconds. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window and listening to the chirps of crickets coming out, but all you can focus on is the sound of yours and Rafe's breathing. The acute awareness of something in the air. The amount of space between the two of you. The way something deep in you changed about him.

It isn't his fault. Whatsoever. It's all yours. All those times spent at Tannyhill, stealing his shirts to wear to sleep, cuddling up in his bed after sneaking out of your estate, running around with Rafe doing god-knows-what. You developed something for him. A crush. An inkling.

You always told yourself you could control it. It's natural for best friends to like each other at one point. It'll fade away eventually.

But, unfortunately for you, that isn't the case. it got worse. It grew more desperate. With each inching territory into something else means a larger consequence it can have on your friendship.

You can't lose him.

"Hey." Rafe calls out, his voice softens considerably from the aggression he used with Topper a while back. You don't turn to face him, despite that being his sole objective, and you respond back with a light hum. "Am I driving you home or Tannyhill?"

To you, those are the same things. Home is where Tannyhill is, where Rafe is. But, you knew what he was referring to.

"Tannyhill." You answer in a chipped tone. "I forgot my bag."

"Of course, you did." He teases, trying to break the tension with some lightheartedness. It doesn't work. You don't answer, too lost in resisting the urge to look at him.

Rafe sighs when you refuse to acknowledge him and turns back to the road. That's when you spare a glance from the corner of your peripheral; just a small peek.

And there he is: Rafe with the fresh shave that is such a strange yet welcomed sight. It brings out a clearer definition of his handsome features, the planes of his sharp profile, the cut of his jawline and the wrinkles around his eyes you always adore. It's too much for you.

You can't let him know that.

He's your best friend.

When he reaches Tannyhill, you leap out of the moving vehicle and race up the porch. You take the hidden key from under the mat and turn the lock, slipping into the familiar foyer and up the large stairwell.

Racing against an internal clock, once you enter the bedroom, you search for your bag, but you can't seem to pinpoint its location. When you manage to miraculously find it underneath the covers, you throw it over your shoulders and sprint to the exit.

Only for Rafe to block it.

"Why are you in such a rush?" He asks, his brows furrowed together as he examines you. You quickly drop your gaze to the ground, pretending to be interested in the patterns on the marble.

"I just..." You stammer for an excuse. "I just got to get home."

"Why? You hate your house."

"I don't hate it." You lie. The conversation tips into an awkward tension—the exact thing you were trying to avoid. You think you need to spend a day, or two, or a whole week, to collect yourself and force yourself back to normal. Back to when you can look at him without revealing everything on your face.

"God, what is it? You don't like it?" Rafe laughs with an ounce of nervousness and the sound takes you back. You look up, finding him running a hand over his buzzcut. "It's my hair, isn't it?"

He didn't know why he decided to buzz it off. He just did. He didn't care if his father didn't approve or if Wheezie would make fun of him for the sudden change in appearance. That didn't matter to him.

But your opinions did.

"What?" Your lips part. Were you that obvious? "I never said that."

"You didn't need to. This entire evening, you've barely looked at me."

He's right.

"I was busy."

"Playing golf with Top? You hate that shit." He retorts, dropping his hand to his side, clenching them into whiten knuckles. "And when we were at the restaurant. You were sitting with Kelce. Why the fuck were you sitting with him instead of me?"

You swallow hard. Your throat is tightening with all the words you can't reveal.

"Maybe I just want to change it up. I am friends with them too—"

"But you're my friend first."

You scoff. "Possessive much?"

"Very." He answers nonchalantly. Your heart skips a beat. He can't say that; it's not fair. "And knowing you for so long, I know what you're telling me is complete and total bullshit."

His hand slides under your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his, and you can't help but feel your walls crumbling. You're afraid. You're so afraid.

"Come on, wildflower." He murmurs softly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. "Tell me the truth."

You have always been able to do that. In ways. When Rafe asks something of you, you're always able to tell him straight. It's one of the qualities he likes about you. Now is the first time you're going against your nature. Because it's too close, too real, that it can change everything.

Your throat grows dry and you lick your bottom lip, causing Rafe to glance down.

"I..." You begin, trying to string together a coherent sentence that won't damage everything. He raises a brow, waiting. "Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you."

You close your eyes after the confession. Your heart is in his hands.

All the air in the room stills, as if the air conditioner turns off and you're all left with a tense, palpable silence. You can't bear it. At least, at your house, you can blast your speakers on full-volume to create some level of noise and block it out. Here, all you can hear is the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"Say something." You urge.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you too."

Your heart drops. You think he doesn't understand. He thinks you can't stand him physically, especially after his haircut, and this is a similar sentiment shared by him about you.

He doesn't feel the same way.

"Oh."

You open your eyes, trying hard not to cry. You can feel them swelling with hot tears but you blink fast, trying to not let Rafe see.

He immediately recognizes the look, drawing back his hand. That’s not what he meant. "Don't cry."

You're not doing a good job at hiding anything today. "No, it's okay," you say with a crack voice, "you don't have to—"

"No, fuck," he swears, "what I mean is that, sometimes, when you look at me, I just—" He couldn't explain himself, not in time, not in the way he wants, that he covers your eyes, flooding your vision with darkness and heightening every other sense.

Rafe releases a deep exhale, collecting himself. "Those eyes..." He mumbles, the resonance of his voice so close, it's as if he's right beside you. You feel his breathing fanning against the curve of your neck, raising goosebumps. "They drive me fucking insane."

Then, he kisses your neck.

The act jolts you by surprise.

"Everything about you drives me insane." He confesses against your heated skin, the vibration of his words sending straight tingles through your body. "I can't go a day without thinking about you. About wanting you."

Not just as a best friend, but as a whole. Everything about you he needs. In his life; forever. Sometimes, he can't believe you exist.

You're overwhelmed with all these new emotions. Your heart is swelling. "Rafe..."

"You're my best friend, right?" He muses, delivering kisses up the column of your throat to the underside of your jaw, and making his way closer to your lips. "But you're also the only one for me."

Before he gets to your mouth, you grab his wrist, the one holding you blindfolded. He stops in place—afraid this is your time to reject him.

"Rafe." You breathe out. "Can I see you?"

He slowly removes his hand, allowing your vision to flood back with his presence. This time, the sight of Rafe doesn't push you into overdrive. There's a new sense of clarity and calm, an elated comfort you don't share with anyone else.

You take your time drinking him in. From his face, to his lips, to the fresh haircut you're feeling entirely too grateful for. You do it all without fear.

"What?" He demands, his insecurities skyrocketing through the roof. "Don't like it?"

"I love you."

His heart lunges in his chest. He couldn't believe the words coming from your lips. When it completely registers that this is not some sweet, wet dream he's going to wake up from, his hands reach forward to cup either side of your face and he finally kisses you.

His force pushes you back against his bed and you land on the mattress with a soft thump. You laugh into his mouth and Rafe grins against your lips.

"Eager, much?"

"I wanted to hear you say that for so long." He admits, his hand travels down your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer. Rafe deepens the kiss, swallowing the little sounds you're making, until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

You can't believe this is happening.

"I didn't know you were such a good kisser."

"Yeah? You wanna know what else I'm good at?"

Your eyes drop to his pants, seeing the subtle outline of his erection straining against his zipper, and he chuckles lowly. "You want it tonight?"

You nod timidly. Your eyes dropping to your lap again, but this time, Rafe doesn't allow you to do such things.

He grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to his. "Don't do that, baby. You know how I feel about you getting shy from asking what you want. Use your words."

The new nickname is making you lightheaded. You can't believe this is real. "I want you, Rafe."

Sweetest goddamn words he ever heard.

He tips his head to your clothes. "Take it off."

"You first."

He laughs at your competitiveness, always trying to challenge him, but he doesn't resist. He pushes himself off the mattress, pulling off his shirt and removing his pants. All that is left is his boxer-briefs, which reveals the outline of his bulge. "Your turn."

You take off your shirt and your shorts and decide, last minute, to go the extra mile and unclasp your bra too. It falls over your shoulders and you throw it out onto the floor.

Rafe takes his time, staring at your tits. He has seen you naked before, the consequence of your intimate relationship that pushes the boundaries into blurred lines and the inevitable collision of morning showers in his ensuite and drunken exchanges after parties.

But this time, it's different. This time, it's a sight that's intentional—just for him.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

You gawk at him, the words send a thrill down your spine. "Do you know how long I waited for this?" You gesture back to him, at his naked frame, and he smirks.

"You got an eyeful last night."

"Oh, shut up," you use your leg to kick him, but Rafe catches your ankle in the process. Your eyes widen as he uses the opportunity to spread your legs apart, sinking between your thighs. His gaze finds your soaked panties.

His thumb traces across your panties, drawing out your wetness against the fabric and collecting your arousal. You whimper, aching into his touch.

"Rafe, please." You beg. His eyes lifts to find yours in a self-satisfied grin. He loves knowing you're this desperate for him, only him, that his fingers hook under the band of your panties.

"Lift your hips for me." He commands and you obey. He pulls off your panties and hauls you to the ledge of his bed. With that, his fingers caress your wet slit, drawing out a low moan from you. "Fuck."

He has imagined that sound a thousand times over, but it's incomparable to the real thing. To know you're feeling this way because of him. He feels himself growing harder, straining against the thin fabric and begging to be inside of you.

But he wants to pleasure you first.

Rafe lowers himself and covers your clit with his mouth. He proceeds to suck, his fingers grazing your entrance before plunging a thick digit inside.

You tip your head against the mattress, reveling in the feel of his tongue against your swollen nub, the way he thrusts into you with a steady pace and the additive finger. Your legs drape over his shoulders, closing him in.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet," Rafe mumbles against you, the vibration of his words stirring something inside of you. "I can't believe I haven't been tasting you every single fucking night."

You draw out with a breathy moan, feeling yourself clench at his words. "We have all the time now."

"I bet I can make you come on my face fast, though."

You don't get a chance to entertain the response before Rafe sucks harder, pumping inside of you with a determined speed that causes you to arch off the mattress and claw at his sheets.

"Shit," you whimper, squeezing your thighs together at the intense pleasure, forcing Rafe to use his free hand to push your legs apart. You feel your climax rapidly approaching. "Oh, god, oh, god."

You come on his face, as promised, and you slump back against the bed, catching your breath. Rafe removes his hand from your cunt, the emptiness causes a little whine.

"What?" He looks at you.

"Nothing," you mumble, "I just want you inside me."

He laughs. "God, you're needy," he teases, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby, you'll get it soon."

He goes to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Just as he's about to tear it open, he glances down at you, extending the small square. "Want to do it?"

You nod, pushing yourself upright and taking it from his hands. You rip it open, as Rafe removes his boxers, and his cock springs free, red and swollen with a bit of precum. You smile, glancing up at him with your doe eyes. "Is that because of me?"

"Shut up."

You giggle, rolling the latex over his length, taking your time to admire his size. He's big and perfect, the tip of his cock dripping with his precum that you almost wish you could take him inside your mouth instead. However, despite the recent orgasm, your body wants him inside.

"Lay back." He commands thickly. "Spread your legs."

You do as he says, throbbing from the control he has in the room. Rafe sinks his knees into his mattress, approaching you as he pushes your thighs apart and lines his tip against your entrance, causing your breath to shorten.

"Come on, wildflower, breathe with me."

You nod shakily, closing your eyes for a moment to inhale a calming breath before he plunges deep inside you, filling you to the hilt. A gasp escapes you, his girth stretching you out, but it soon fades into a pleasure unlike any others.

"God, you feel good," he mumbles, lowering himself to your mouth and capturing your lips into a hot kiss. Your hand drapes over his shoulders as he begins to thrust inside of you. "Too fucking good."

You feel perfect. All of this is too perfect. The way you press against him, your fingernails scraping his back, the way your pussy grips him with the ideal amount of pressure, and the way your lips sync with his as if you were made for him.

The air fills with your whimpers and mewls, increasing in volume with each thrusts that enters and leaves you, while Rafe is heaving in breathy grunts and moans. He pushes your legs back, forcing the new position to grant him deeper access into your sweet cunt.

He's hitting new spots you didn't know were possible. It's making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cries coming out with desperate pleas, that he had to cover your mouth with his to swallow all the noises.

When you feel yourself reaching a familiar high, the buzz tingling between your legs, you grip his shoulders tight. Rafe feels your walls fluttering around him, and he quickened his pace, sweat breaking across his forehead.

Your breath is heavy, your heart is racing, and as you ascend into your peak, you moan out Rafe's name with such euphoric satisfaction, he comes with you, emptying into the condom.

When he finishes, he falls into the space next to you. His breathing is rough, trying to catch his own breath, that you can't help but turn your gaze to his, examining him under this new light.

Rafe catches you staring, the way your eyes lift to his hairline, and he reassures with a soft brush against your jaw. "It'll grow back, I promise."

"it's not that." You declare, dropping your gaze down to his face. You still can't believe the embarrassment you still feel by how attractive he is. "I like it."

"You do?"

"Why else would I hide from you?"

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hand drops to your waist, pulling you closer to him until you're skin-to-skin, your breasts pressing against his chest.

"You couldn't tell me the whole time?" He mumbles, kissing your nose. You giggle.

"If I did, we wouldn't be here having sex."

He takes a moment to consider your words, before finding some merit in them. "Fair." He declares, just as his eyes find yours again. This time, he can look at you, knowing you're his. "I guess next time I get a new haircut, I can propose, huh?"

Your heart drops. Your smile fades from surprise. "What?"

He laughs at your expression. "You think I'm letting you go after this? It's either us or nothing."

Maybe reality isn’t too bad. 

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[erwinsvow]

bitchy!reader being jealous at a party when she sees rafe talking to some girl and then finding out its a girl he has either slept with in the past or shes been all over him since before they were toghether. Reader makes a scene calling her out for being all over her man

yess but bitchy reader is a menace, she doesnt care abt any girls but she'll be soo mean to rafe abt it😭😭 this has to be pre-dating bc she would never let rafe disrespect her like that & he knows not to

when you catch rafe's eyes again, you feel a familiar sense of self-satisfaction course through your veins. of course he's looking—he should be surprised he can even look away.

you always look great, but today is something special, a pretty strapless dress decorating your body, something similar to the color of rafe's eyes. so, like always, it's no wonder he can't look away.

but you can't let the bastard think he's got you thinking about how often he is looking at you. it's all very confusing, so you don't glance back, trying to stay engrossed in your conversation with your friends. a few drinks and thirty minutes later, your eyes travel back to rafe.

and though he is still looking at you, there's some other girl in front of him, talking to him. the girl you recognize, someone who used to frequent tannyhill. on more than one occasion she's wandered down the kitchen when you and sarah are making waffles and sipping overpriced coffee. when you'd seen her, she'd been in rafe's clothes.

you hadn't cared much then, treated her the same you'd treat anyone. even now, with the girl in front of him trying to capture his attention and the idiot's eyes still on you, you feel the same—mildly annoyed at her, beyond irritated at him.

he thinks he can make you jealous. it's even cute that he's trying. this time you do stare back at rafe, a little annoyed at yourself for thinking about how cute he looks today. you like him in blue, you like that he's matching you.

"why are you staring at my brother?" sarah questions, and you smile in his direction.

"get your shit straight, sarah. he's staring at me." you wave at rafe, smiling sweetly before looking away. you don't have to see his face to know how it fell at your reaction.

"ugh. now he's coming over here. i'm not sticking around for this." you direct your smile at sarah.

"who asked you to stay?" she rolls her eyes at you.

"match made in heaven," she mutters, walking away in the other direction. when rafe approaches you, you stay seated on the couch, sipping your drink and observing your nails. they're baby blue—and you wonder how you'd come to that decision in the salon yesterday. of course, you know the answer.

"what the hell was that?" rafe barks, and you resist the eyeroll for as long as you can. last time he said if you rolled them at him again, he'd slap them out of your head, and though you want to test his theory, you'd prefer it in the privacy of his bedroom.

"just saying hi, rafe. you know i've met that poor girl before, at tannyhill. i'm surprised you even let her sleep over, you seem like the type-"

"can you shut up about her? what the hell was-"

"you already said that. and why would i shut up? you're the one yapping away to her. you know, you must be great in bed."

"excuse me?"

"i mean, you treat a girl that shitty and she's still willing to speak to you? she must remember something good. but knowing you it can't be for the conversation."

"..thanks?"

"you're welcome." you glance up at him again, but your eyes track back to the girl watching the two of you, the one he left behind to come talk to you. "i know you're a dick but don't be a dick. go finish talking to her. it's rude."

"i don't wanna talk to her."

"well, you're not talking to me."

"d'you have to make everything so fuckin' hard?"

"you're the one trying to make me jealous by talking to some poor girl! did you think i'd appreciate that?"

"why can't you just get jealous like you're supposed to?"

"you are such a jackass. maybe if you acted, like, a normal person-"

"oh, you're one to fuckin' talk. normal person my ass. you cuss me out every chance you get-"

"stop engaging in behavior that gets you cussed out then."

"shut up."

"you shut up!"

you both stare at each other for a moment.

"you wanna come to tannyhill with me?"

"yeah. let's go."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in sickness and in health

words: 1k

warnings: doctors office, physical appointment, needle warning!, fear of needles/medical stuff, established relationship, husband!rafe, soft!rafe pregnancy cw

“you ready to go?” rafe asks, swinging his car keys around his finger.

“uh, yeah…” you look down to your own hand, keys clenched in your first.

“you wanna drive?” rafe asks, frowning. you never drive your own car when he's available.

“um… i just figured you wouldn't wanna go.” you shrug. “its just a physical.”

“it's still the doctors, and the doctors make you nervous.” 

rafe isn't wrong, you're not a fan of anything medical, but it's just your family doctors office, not the hospital or anything too scary.

“don't you have golf with top?” you scheduled your appointment for the same time he usually meets up with topper at the country club, thinking it would be a good time to pop in real quick.

“i canceled when you put your appointment on the calendar. do you not want me to come?” rafe frowns.

“no, i do! i just figured-” you shrug. “i don't know, you wouldn't want to.”

“what did our vows say baby?” rafe asks.

“huh?” 

“in sickness and in health. im coming.” rafe takes the car keys out of your hand, tossing them back into the bowl on your entrance table. “and im driving, of course.”

--

“thanks for coming with me rafey.” you squeeze his hand, eyes on the clock as the minutes tick by. you arrived early for your appointment, only to be told the doctor was running behind. “even though im not really sick.” you giggle at how seriously he takes his vows.

“i would never expect you to go alone, honey.” rafe simply says. “now, do you want me to go in the room with you or should i wait out here? i don't mind either way.”

“um… actually can you come in with me?” you ask shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “i need to get my flu shot and you know how much i hate needles.”

“shit, a shot?” rafe leans forward to pick his water bottle up off the table, thrusting it into your hands. “here, hydrate. don't want you passing out.”

“thanks.” you take a sip of the water. rafe came with you once long before you were married to get blood drawn, and you think you traumatized him by passing out right after the needle left your arm.

“do you want me to get a snack from the vending machine, love?” rafe questions, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“no, but do you think we could go out to lunch after?” you pout out your bottom lip, although there really is no reason to as rafe quickly agrees.

--

“and you're alright with your husband being in here?” the doctor asks.

you nod enthusiastically. “yup! i asked him, since im gonna be getting the flu shot.”

your doctor nods, remembering from last year how much you hated the needle. “alright, i will just have you sit in here mr. cameron for a moment while we get a urine sample.”

you feel extra thankful for accepting the water from rafe in the waiting room as you're easily able to fill up the sample cup before placing it in the cupboard.

“alright, the labs will get to work on it right away.” your doctor nods. “will probably be done by the end of your appointment, if not soon after.” 

“awesome.” you nod, heading back into the exam room, smiling when you realize rafe was patiently waiting for you to return.

the doctor goes through your normal exam, asking you questions and checking your vitals, making notes to add to the system later.

“alright, it all looks good. why don't you hop up on the table and we can do your flu shot?”

“okay.” you swallow heavily, looking to rafe who stands with you, gripping your hand and allowing you to press your face into his chest.

“don't tell me when.” you say, muffled by rafes shirt. “just do it.”

you feel the poke and stiffen out, letting out a small sound that hurts rafes chest to hear, holding you tighter as the doctor withdrawals the needle and covers your arm with a bandage.

“all done! you did great. just lay down.” 

you lay back on the bed, eyes closing as you breath, thankfully not feeling the urge to pass out.

“im going to have a nurse bring you in some crackers and apple juice while i get your results back from the urine test.”

“thank you.” you manage to mumble as your doctor leaves.

you blink your eyes open to look up at rafe. “that sucked, but thanks for being here.” you smile, rafe bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips as the nurse comes in.

“i got ‘em.” rafe holds the two cups, allowing you to pick out a cracker and eat it before realizing how dry your mouth is. you manage to sit up, head still slightly dizzy, to take a sip of juice, the sugary drink instantly making you feel better.

you keep snacking until your doctor returns, a stack of papers in her hands.

“feeling good?” she questions, to which you quickly nod.

“yes, thank you.”

“so, just to quickly go over your results…” she frowns when she looks at the paper. 

“what's wrong?” rafe asks.

“i need to ask you to step out of the room, mr. cameron.” she says.

“no!” you squeal, before quickly composing yourself. “no, i want him here. especially if something is wrong.”

“your results look good except for an elevated hormone called hcg. it's a sign of pregnancy.”

“im… im pregnant?”

“yes. the results indicate more than three weeks pregnant.”

you look up to rafe, watching him process the information as tears well in his eyes. he finally looks down at you as tears fall.

“baby… we are gonna be parents.”

you let out a sob, not even realizing that you were already crying as well as rafe pulls you into a tight hug.

“ill give you guys a moment.” the doctor quickly steps out of the room.

“oh my god.” you press your hands against your stomach. “oh my god!”

“im… im so happy.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“oh rafe, you're gonna be the best daddy ever.” you cup his cheek, pulling him back in for a more intense kiss.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[jedi-hawkins]

Callsign: Omega

post-s3 finale head cannons (spoilers, duh)

Omega, she’s become one of the most famous pilots for the rebellion.

She names her x-wing “Havoc 5” for her brothers

Of course it has their ct numbers written across the back, right behind the cockpit, for they’re always watching her six. She can't see them when she's flying, and frankly doesn't look at the worn numbers there every day, but they're there always.

The belly of her x-wing is covered in tally marks. The blue ones are for each clone she’s helped free, an ohmage to a clone her brother Echo told her about, ARC-5555. The black ones are for every other being she's helped free. And the red ones, those are for the lives that have passed on and become one with the Force.

On part of her landing gear is a blue pawprint.

On her helmet she only has five things painted, a knife, a crosshair, a tooka doll, a handprint, and a pair of goggles.

On the shoulder of her flight suit, she adds another CF 99 patch, just like the one on her jacket.

She goes by callsign “Omega” for she is the last. The end. The final thing her enemies will see, the last thing the Empire will feel as it falls. She is the being that brings an end to the suffering that so many clones have faced as wards of the Empire when she shows up to liberate them. Omega.

Bonus: The first time she returns to Pabu, Hunter immediately notices the nose art she's chosen to paint on her shuttle, the one built from the Marauder's salvage. It's a stark replica of the nose art that once adorned the original ship, back in the Clone Wars. His stomach plummets and he can't even find the words. As his daughter strolls down the ramp, she immediately bursts into laughter at the look on his face.

Her brothers, Crosshair and Wrecker stroll into the courtyard, the larger of the two asking loudly, "What's so funny, 'Meg?"

"I think that is what's so funny." The lankier one replies, gesturing to the nose of the shuttle with his left hand. He's forgone his prosthetic today. Some days he wears it, others he chooses to wear his cap with pride.

Wrecker scratches his beard and both his eyes widen, "WAIT- IS THAT?"

"So, it would seem." Crosshair says, placing a toothpick between his lips. "Breathe, Hunter." He says pointedly at his brother, who still looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"I-uhh. It's good to have you home, Omega." He finally stutters out.

He wraps his arms around her tightly as always, but his eyes are still glued to the hull of her shuttle. "Done some decorating, I see?"

"Yeah." She replies simply, giving Wrecker and Crosshair their own due hugs. "You like it?"

"It certainly is... something." Hunter gets out, stumbling over his words yet again.

"I found the image in some old Republic files we recovered, it reminded me of something I saw as a kid, but I don't remember where." She says, coming to stand beside Hunter again.

"Ehhh... Omega." Her father groans, running a hand through his greying hair. "Do you... Do you remember what the Marauder looked like when we first met?"

She turns to him. "No, why do you ask?"

Hunter finally peels his eyes away from the shuttle to face his daughter. "That picture you found... That was... That was the Marauder, that's where you know it from. You only saw it once. We scrubbed it off as soon as we decided to come back to Kamino for you."

"Really? I had no recollection." Omega tries to stop the grin from spreading across her face, but she can't help it, and Hunter, still perceptive as always scoffs at her.

"Why you little..." He growls at her, stifling his own laughter.

"I think she knows..." Crosshair chimes in, running his hand through his silver locks.

Wrecker's jaw drops, "Wait, you know where that's from?"

Omega shakes her head at her brothers. "Of course I know, I never forgot how awkward you all were when I asked about it. It didn't click exactly why until I found that old picture. Thought I'd bring it back for old time's sake, eh Hunter?"

Hunter's eyes widen as words escape him once again.

"Kidding," Omega teases. "I just wanted to see what your reaction would be."

Crosshair steps closer to the shuttle to examine the paint job. "Though this has been wildly entertaining, it might be best for you to scrub it, 'Mega."

Omega crosses her arms. "Why? You did it first little brother."

His eyes narrow at his sister, he's the only one she ever pulls that with and though he secretly loves it, she can't know that. "I mean it." He says sternly, pointing his toothpick at her. "Otherwise, Hunter is going to have an aneurysm every time you come home."

Omega looks to the clone beside her, just barely an inch shorter than her now. She places a hand on his shoulder, "Of course I'll scrub it. Echo thought the idea was hilarious. Plus, it gave me an opening to show you this."

She gently reaches into her bag and brings out a holoframe, turning it so Hunter can see. It looks just like any other quick photo taken in a Republic shipyard. Troopers are milling around in the back, by the looks of the landscape it might've been Ryloth. The focus of the photo, however, is a black Omicron-class attack shuttle and five clone commandos posed in front of it in red and black armor.

Their helmets are off, their faces young and confident, proud of their most recent mission. Though, the sniper has a rifle held in his right hand, and the one crouched in front doesn't have his goggles on. But it's clear who it is, all five of them. And on the nose of the attack shuttle behind them, is the striking portrait of the last senator of Naboo.

[walpu]

Happy birthday Aventurine

...in which he finds himself enjoying his birthday for the first time after he lost everything

notes - gn!reader, was written with a stellaron hunter!reader in mind but it's not specified just know you're considered a criminal in this one, pre-canon, unestablished relationship with a flavor of pining, angs, hurt/comfort, no beta

Love my birthday boy

He doesn't celebrate his birthdays. Not since the day he lost everything. How can he celebrate the joy of his birth if on this day all the joy was taken away from him?

Born on the blessed day, he's Mother Goddess's beloved child. But why did she abandon her people then? Why it had to happen on the day they were celebrating her, on the day they were supposed to be saved? How can he see himself as something other than cursed, how can he see the day as something other than tragedy?

Anyhow, even if he would want to celebrate, for the first years after the massacre he didn't even have the opportunity to do so. And if he could, he would rather mourn his people, his family. But no, he can only focus on his survival, trying to fulfill the promise he gave to his sister.

Now, standing in the lonely hotel room, he can only smile bitterly at the sight of beautifully decorated cake Jade has send him. How ironic, wasn't she the one who told him to forget his name and his past? Perhaps she simply doesn't look at this the same way he does. "You can't change what happened but you can celebrate that you're still here", she would probably say. He envies her ability to brush off sentiments, really.

Now, when he is no longer Kakavasha but Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts, he was deliberately choosing to ignore this day. It has nothing to do with his new self.

He may still hold onto his mother's necklace, his father's shirt, the promise he gave to his big sis. But this day? He doesn't need it. He doesn't need another reminder of the moment he lost everything.

That's what he tells himself, ignoring the pain in his chest, trying to bury himself in the work, running away on a mission he insisted on taking, even if was supposed to be his day off.

Still, he gets the cake. This stupid reminder of the worst day in his life.

It honestly feels like a joke. He doesn't even have anyone to eat this with!

He knows Jade didn't try to mock him, she's pragmatic, not crue. But aeons, it does feel like mockery still.

So he sits with this stupid cake in front of him, not really knowing if he should just throw it away. Somehow it feels... wrong. Wasteful. He knows how stupid that thought is, both him and Jade are rich enough to buy thouthands of those cakes. Yet he can't help but remember how his mom and sister would go out of their ways to give him something nice for his birthdays, something that could be considered a treat, a gift. Now he can have everything he wants but... they won't be there to share it with him.

No one is there to share it with him.

... at least he thinks so. Up until the moment the window opens from the outside (eighteenth floor, mind you) and a very familiar figure jumps in.

He really can't help but smile. Not only out of habit but because your ability to sneak in anywhere you want is truly amusing.

"Oh, what I see? A wanted criminal breaking into the room of one of the IPC's most noticeable employees? Don't you afride of being caught, my dear? Or you've finally decided to end our partnership and get rid of me?"

He can't help but chuckle at your unimpressed gaze. Yes, he has told this joke more than once already. But it's not his fault it always make you roll your eyes in a funny way.

But he really is curious what brought you here. Showing up like that is very risky, for both of you. Something serious must have happened if you decided to visit him out of the blue.

... that's what he thinks until you pull out a small gift box from your pocket, throwing it his way.

"A little birdie told me today it's your birthday. I don't usually participate in the whole gift giving tradition. Nor do I celebrate something myself. But those things reminded me of you and I was nearby anyway" you say with a cheeky smile.

He doesn't even know how to react, honestly. His hands just automatically unwrap the box and... oh. It's a set of earrings. A very pretty set of earrings.

"They reminded me of peacock tails" you say, barely holding back a chuckle.

"How original you are. I'm a birthday boy, you should be nicer, you know!" he acts like it's just a small joke between you two but his voice is weaker than usual and his hands are a bit shaky. He doesn't want to overthink it, he really shouldn't do it, it's just a small gift, a joke.

You thought of him. You know his taste well enough. I came to find him. You're here with him.

He almost panics when you say your goodbyes and turn to leave (through the window again. He'll never know how you do it).

"Hey, hey, no need to hurry. Let me be a good host for my friend" he says with his signature smile (he always feels like you see right through it) while his hand is clenched behind his back (he feels like you see through this too).

Please don't leave.

When you sigh and turn back to face him, he suddenly feels relieved that Jade send him the cake. The thought of sharing it with a wanted criminal who caused nothing but headaches to the IPC is somewhat amusing.

"How about we visit a nearby casino after this, hm? I promise you won't lose with me by your side"

If he can have you by his side, mayve he'll have at least one memory of this day untainted by pain and grief.

[golden1u5t]

honeymoon | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: angst + fluff + smut(more so the beginning)

ꨄ summary: sex has always been a bad subject growing up, it was shunned upon to give into your bodies desires without being married or wanting kids. the abuse that came with this topic has caused you to hide away from it, you've never told spencer but when you do, he makes sure to make you as comfortable as he can.

spencer stopped in his tracks as he noticed you standing in the middle of the room with your head turned away from him, he let go of his shirt so that it dropped back down over his body. when he reached out and touched your arm you jumped, looking back at him with wide eyes.

"sweetheart? are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his hand around your wrist and guiding you to sit on the bed. you leaned onto his shoulder and sighed, intertwining your fingers with his.

"it's our honeymoon- people have sex on their honeymoon!" you sat up and looked down at the ring on your finger, not yet used to the feeling of it weighing on your finger yet but you knew that you would eventually get used to it just like you would get used to the new last name.

"sex isn't a requirement to have a honeymoon, its just something people do to feel good and connect with their partners. there are some people in the world that are completely uninterested in sex. don't feel obligated, honey."

spencer honestly wouldn't mind if you didn't ever want to have sex, he went majority of his life without it, he was just grateful you're in his life and he's able to call you his wife. he wants you for the rest of his life, with or without the sex.

"no, that's not it." you huffed, sitting up from his shoulder and averting your gaze to the big window in the hotel room you were both staying at. your room was a suite, a wedding gift from rossi, so you could see over the busy city below.

"do you remember when i told you that i grew up in a very toxic household?" spencer nodded his head, you let out a small laugh because he remembers everything, it was a question you didn't even have to ask. "well, sex was a very touchy subject. i was always told that women were just to have children, that we couldn't do it unless we were married and ready for kids. but i'm not- i don't want any children right now and i don't want you to think badly about me because of it."

you brought a hand up to try and stop the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. it was no use though, the second spencer reached up and cupped your face with gentle hands, the floodgates opened. he didn't try to force you to look at him, he knew that you would when you were ready, you were putting yourself in a vulnerable position.

"i would never think any less of you because of that. you know that, angel." spencer's voice was soft, as if he was talking to a scared child. he ran his thumb over the skin under your eye, wiping away those salty tears that escaped.

you leaned into him and buried your head into his chest, hands grasping at his shirt. spencer's hand fell onto your back and started to rub soothing circles while you caught your breathe and calmed down.

while he held you like that you started to imagine how he would hold you in bed, how his hands would gently caress your skin, how he would make you feel safe and comfortable with him. you knew he would do all those things for you, you knew he would do anything you wanted. all you had to do was ask him and he would move in a heartbeat to make sure you got it, no matter what it was.

though, you were still having a lot of doubts and you needed to gain more confidence in yourself before you were willing to shed layers of coverage from your body, bring your guard down and let him into the last blocked off part of you.

so, for now you laid there in his arms, listening to the busy streets of the city and feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. spencer dropped his head down and rested his head on top of yours, his hand moving up your back and running his fingers through your hair.

everything in that moment was perfect, it was like when he wrapped his arms around you he somehow made a bubble of security. that's when you decided you wanted him, you wanted to bring those walls down and share yourself with him because you knew he would take care of you, he would be gentle with you.

"i want to try it." you spoke, though your voice was muffled from the way you were pressed against his chest. spencer let out a hum of confusion, pulling back and looking down at you. so you sat up and repeated yourself.

"are you sure? this is something you need to make sure you really want." his eyes scanned your face for any sign that would contradict your words but he couldn't find any.

"i'm sure, spence." you place your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning forward and placing your lips on his. spencer let go of your hand and placed them on your waist instead.

spencer pulled away from your lips and instructed you to get higher on the bed. as soon as you laid back on the bed, he was crawling on top of you. you quickly discarded your shirt and started to push your pants down but spencer caught your wrist in his hands.

"patience, angel. i'll get there."

[surielstea]

The Best I Ever Had

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader (Azriel’s ex)

Summary: Reader seeks revenge on her ex-boyfriend, and that revenge just so happens to take the form of a very willing Vanserra.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | p in v | fingering | cervix brushing | no aftercare (not Eris) | angst (not Eris) | manipulation (not Eris)

7.6k words

I've been dating the shadow singer for a little over a year now— but calling it dating seemed to be a stretch. It started with a few dates but inevitably it turned into a cycle of him telling me to come over, we'd hook up, then I'd leave in the morning. If he wasn't busy I'd stay for breakfast, but that was pretty much it.

Now I lay next to him, thoroughly fucked out and sweating. Azriel was a busy male but when he fucked, he fucked good. That fact made me feel selfish for wanting more than just being a casual hookup.

I sigh audibly, sitting up and slipping out of the bed, waddling into the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. That was another thing, once Azriel got what he wanted he was kind of done with me, so aftercare was absent and it made me feel like shit.

I huff as I wipe myself down with a warm rag, then splash water over my face and pat it dry with a soft towel.

I met the spymaster through Morrigan, I hadn't been particularly close to the inner circle but Mor was a good friend of mine, and of course, I could see the way he looked at her, admired her with a silent devotion. He has for years while I just watched in the background. Then the three Archeron sisters showed up and he began doing it to Feyre's sister Elain, or Nesta's friend Gwyn. But never me. Never looked at me that way. I was slowly realizing I was becoming a placeholder until something better fell into his lap.

I turn the faucet off and leave the bathing chamber, shuffling back to the bed, slightly defeated. I slide onto the mattress, my boyfriend already sounds asleep with his winged-back facing me. I yawn and decide I’ll voice my opinions tomorrow after a full night's rest, perhaps over breakfast, I could tell him how I feel.

With a plan in mind and enough exhaustion to make a pegasus pass out, I was able to find a light sleep.

The morning greeted me with an empty bed, Azriel's spot empty, and I doubted the male was downstairs making me breakfast. I grumble a curse as I flip the blankets off of me and get up. I simply glance at myself in the mirror and brush my hands through my hair before leaving his room in my nightgown, rubbing at my eyes as I descend the stairs and into the kitchen.

The clatter of a fork sounds and I turn to my left to see the silent shadow singer who had just finished eating. "You didn't want to wake me up?" I say, squinting at the male's silhouette framed by large windows of the morning light behind him. He shrugged in reply. "Figured you'd rather sleep," He murmured as he stood, collecting his dishes and walking towards me.

As he brushes past me towards the sink I remember the loose plan I had put together last night.

"I was thinking," I start. It was now or never. He turned his head to me slightly, signaling that he was listening while he placed his dishes in the basin. "We've been going out for about a year now, maybe we should do something special?" I offer and he turns to me fully, slight confusion creasing his brows. I didn't understand what was so puzzling about it.

"Like what? And when?" He asks, his tone making me feel like I was scheduling a business meeting. I roll my eyes and take a few steps closer. "I don't know, you're always busy," I sigh, making my annoyance clear. He bristles. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, would it kill you to take a break for a day?" I look up at him, my arms behind my back. I hated this. Hated the way he looked down at me as I begged him to just give me the slightest fraction of his attention. He blows out a long breath in contemplation. "I suppose I can take a day off in a couple of weeks," He utters like it's such a chore to leave work.

"A couple of weeks?" I balk with wide eyes and he shrugs again. "I'm not that flexible," He explains and my frown deepens. "Just the other day you took off to help Morrigan with writing letters to the continent," I argue. "That's, different," He said with a slight hesitance in his voice. "How so?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"Because that's Mor," He muttered and a pang of hurt bloomed in my chest. My lip quivered at the words but I maintained my composure. "Listen, I'm not trying to make you sad I'm just telling you the truth," He craned his neck, stretching it out like I was tiring him out with this conversation. "Which is?" My brows raise a fraction. He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, rethinking what he was about to say.

Instead of speaking at all, he leans in and presses a light kiss to my lips, his hands coming to the back of my neck as he slants his mouth over mine. There was no passion behind it, just a move to shut me up and I was a fool to fall for it.

He kisses down my jaw, making his way to my neck where his marks from last night were already fading. His other hand finds my thigh, pushing me up against the counter and hiking up my dress. "Az," I place a hand on his chest. "Az, I don't want to have sex," I murmur, pushing him away and he backs off, confusion in his eyes because that hack has worked every time before.

"I just, I wanted you to look at me the way you look at Elain, or Gwyn, or—" I start. "Don't be ridiculous," His hands come to my cheeks as he interrupts me. "I'm not with them now am I?" He tilts his head. "No, but, you would be as soon as they called," I reason and his gaze falters because he knows I'm right.

"Don't think like that," He shakes his head. Then presses his lips to mine again, his hand returning to my thigh. "Don't think," He whispers and that sets me off. I push him away harder, sending him stumbling a few feet back. He looks at me like I've gone insane. I'm sick of it, sick of feeling so compliant when he wanted me and when he didn't. I was easy to please, and he liked easy, but he loved a challenge more.

"If you're not going to even take the time to make your girlfriend feel like she means anything to you, then," My breath hitched and a stupid smirk came across his features when I didn't finish my sentence. "Then what?" He scoffs. "You're gonna break up with me? Then when you can't find a male who fucks you better than I can you'll come crawling right back, I know how you are," He crossed his arms over his chest and I hated it. Hated that he was right. Because he was such an arrogant asshole but he was handsome and knew how to pleasure a woman. Which was rare to find in the Night Court.

"No, I'm done this time," I stand my ground. "Don't be like this," He sighed at the dramatics of it, looking up to the ceiling like I was draining him. "You always do this," He shakes his head. "I'm serious," I bite out. "Yeah, sure you are," He scoffs, unbelieving of my words as he leaves the kitchen without another word.

I'm serious. I hated being treated like this. I have a long life ahead of me, I can find someone better, perhaps go to another Court where I won't be given such limited options.

I collect my things, forgetting about the rest of my clothes in Azriel's room as I shrug on my jacket, I looked ridiculous with the oversized leather jacket over my short nightgown but I was only going home.

I gave one last look at the house before slipping out and closing the door with a particularly hard slam, making sure he heard I proudly took my leave.

My pride didn't last long before tears began to stream down my face. It was foolish to be crying over my own decision but I couldn't help it. Leaving him meant leaving the entirety of the inner circle, and as close as Morrigan and I were, she'd choose Azriel without a second thought. I knew it, she knew it, and he definitely knew it. So now I was walking through the streets of Velaris teary-eyed, hands shaking as I attempted to wipe them away but inevitably I gave up and just let them run, let myself crumble into the dejection of it all.

I had a house in the hewn city, it wasn't a home necessarily but, it would make do for a few nights until I figured myself out. I muster all of my energy and source my power, before winnowing back to the Court of Nightmares. I sigh in relief to be home, a shock to myself since this is the last place I'd ever want to be. Yet here I was, in my shitty apartment with little to live for. I slump onto the couch and curl into a ball, then just allow myself to bawl and promise myself this is the last time I’ll ever cry over the shadow singer again.

It had been a week.

Azriel was right when he said I’d crawl back to him. This sort of thing happened often, we’d argue then I’d leave until eventually I got too lonely and find my way to his doorstep, he’d take me back and we would pretend to forget about what had happened until the cycle repeated, over, and over, and over again.

But I was done this time. I promised myself I was done and I’m sticking to it. A week was the longest I had gone without going back to him so I took myself to the flower shop down the street to treat myself to something as a reward. Flowers had always brought a smile to my face. Azriel never quite understood when I’d bring him to the gardens, he didn’t see the beauty of them, the way they all lived so harmoniously with each other. So he rarely went to the flower markets with me, it especially hurt when I found out Elain and him had visited the gardens more than—

I shook my head, voiding my thoughts of the spymaster and focusing on the beauty of the white dahlias in front of me. I picked up the bouquet and went to the clerk’s cart to pay. I had visited her whenever I was in the Hewn City, so it was nice to see the familiar face.

She smiles brightly when she sees me. “Just the dahlias for today?” She asks in a raspy tone and I nod. “Yes, but I’ll most likely be back tomorrow for those daffodils tomorrow,” I say, placing five marks down on the counter. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” She says, taking the bouquet from my hands and wrapping it in a burlap paper. “My tulips bloomed this morning, they should be in stock by the end of the week,” She hinted and I grinned at her memory of my favorite flower. “A pleasure as always, Moe,” I say as she hands me the wrapped bouquet.

“Have a good day!” She calls back and I wave at her from over my shoulder before walking down the cobblestones back towards my apartment.

It was a short walk, only around the corner, I had been a few yards away from my apartment yet somehow I still managed to clumsily ram right into a wall while staring down at the flowers— no, not a wall, a male who barely even faltered as I stumbled back. "Sorry, you alright?" Warm hands come to my shoulders, steadying me. I look up to see a familiar set of amber eyes, ones that could only belong to one Eris Vanserra. "Oh, it's you," He uttered but his voice didn’t carry any distaste, only simple curiosity in his gaze. "Are you okay?" The male asks and I was surprised at the concern of his voice.

I often ran into Eris, so much so that it had become sort of a thing between us. I had never loathed him like the others, I understood him better than the rest of the inner circle who had never tried to see more than just a monster. It was clear to me that he was nothing like his father, no matter how much he tried. So clear that it had been a shock to me when Rhys didn’t understand he was only wearing a mask, even when the High Lord had to do something similar while Under the Mountain.

"I'm fine," I shrug with a hurried motion, Eris was also good at reading me, leaving me terrified that he’d somehow see right through my feigned smile. "You sure?" One of his hands left my shoulders only to lift my chin, angling it up towards him. "Who's got a pretty girl like you crying?" He tilts his head, and I blanch. How was he so good at that? I pull away from his touch and avoid his piercing gaze.

"I'm fine," I repeat. "You're a terrible liar, sunshine," He intoned.

Sunshine. A nickname that was only used to remind me that I didn't belong in the Night Court, didn't belong with the Inner Circle at all. There was no place for the sunshine in a place that thrived in darkness.

"Where's that bastard of yours, I doubt he'd like you running around the Hewn City dressed like that," He gestures to my low-cut dress, my cardigan parted just enough to reveal any excessive, albeit impressive amount of cleavage. I press the flowers to my body and a smirk grows over his lips. "He wouldn't care," I grumble. "Really?" He tilts his head. I shrug. "We broke up last week," I don't know why I told him. Some undiscovered part of me has always trusted him, so much that my actions have often betrayed my own thoughts.

"Is that right?" A smile curves his features, nothing but amusement in his tone. "You could at least pretend to feel bad," I frown.

"Why? He lost something he didn't deserve, you gained the freedom to be with someone better. It's a win in both cases, for you at least," He justifies, and a small smile tugs at my lips. "There she is," He admires and maybe it was because I was looking for revenge, or maybe it was because Eris and I had always flirted, but I couldn't help but feel this magnetic pull to the male.

"Hey, do you want to come inside?" I offer, brushing past him and walking up the steps of my apartment, he blinks in shock, I was surprised with myself just as much but I didn't show it. "Just to talk, I'll open a bottle of wine?" I added and his cool demeanor returned.

"Why not," He hummed.

"You're telling me, he did all that— then didn't even provide aftercare?" Eris said in pure disbelief and I nodded with a sigh, thinking myself stupid for letting a male treat me so poorly.

I had spilled most details of my relationship with the Shadow singer to Eris, it may have been wrong to vent to one of the male's many enemies but I owed him nothing anymore, it wasn't like Eris could do much with the details of our relationship anyway.

We sat on my couch, too small for his large legs so I was positioned with my feet in his lap, not that I was complaining once he started tracing shapes on the tops of my knees mindlessly. Eris actually listened, it hadn't been something I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. This easy conversation that made me feel like he wanted to be a part of it. Perhaps it was the three glasses of wine or the glint in his eyes, but what he said next left my head reeling.

"I have a meeting with him today, maybe I should mention it," He hummed, his tone so casual I could hardly tell if he was being serious or not.

"It hurt," I mumble, unsure if I was referring to the sex itself or how he treated me. "It shouldn't," He replies with that damned look in his eyes, reassuring every part of my turmoil. "I know," I shrug.

He doesn't reply, his eyes linger on mine, something beneath that gaze that reminded me so much of how I used to look at Azriel, a certain yearning that I've known so well it was hard to mistake it for anything else.

But before he does something he'll regret, before he gets me attached his breath catches in his throat and he suddenly stands. I look up at him curiously with creased brows.

"Well thanks for the drink, sunshine," He says. I stand, following him to the door like some dog. Was I capable of honing independence for five seconds?

"I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need to be walked out," He gives me a crooked smile, and something foreign pangs in my chest, something I hadn't even felt with Azriel. "But, it was just," I struggle to find exactly what I wanted to say. "Never mind," I sigh, spinning on my heel, angling back to the couch but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back to face him. "It's okay, use your words," he eased and I swore I didn't imagine his thumb stroke on the back of my palm.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to help me get back at the spymaster," I utter and his brow lifts a fraction. "Are you always plotting in that pretty head of yours?" He leans against the doorway, clearly interested. "You can say no if you want—" I start. "Tell me what I have to do," he sighs and a small smile curves my lips.

"How would you feel about faking a relationship, for the sole purpose of making him mad, nothing more I promise," I say. His brows raise and his hand leaves the knob of my front door. "Why don't I come with you, to the meeting?" I propose. A grin curves his lips. "Look at you scheming," He hums and I roll my eyes. "Who do you think I learned it from?" I smile and he returns it. "Go get cleaned up then, I'll wait," He leans against the closed door and I nod, spinning on my heel and walking down into the hall.

Faking a romance with Eris had been easier than I had thought. Our touches were casual, before the others had even arrived he had his arm slung around my shoulders as if he'd been at my side for the past century. Maybe this was all to get back at Azriel, but my hand on his abdomen didn't have to be there, and I didn't have to look up at him like he stole the breath from my very lungs but it was involuntary, something that couldn't be helped when around him.

He was regal, his features sharp and his words sharper. But more importantly, he actually looked at me, looked at me like I was anything worth importance and more than just a distraction. "You nervous?" He asks, his other arm coming around my waist as I turn to him fully. Everything was so natural, whatever this tether was between us rendered any awkward tension and allowed a casual intimacy.

"No," I shake my head and I meant it, I didn't feel scared with his arms around me, his warm hands splayed over my waist as if they were meant to be there. "You think we'll be convincing enough?" He tilts his head down at me. I peer up at him through my lashes, wrapping my arms around his neck— something about him made me feel so bold, so powerful, so content.

"You want to practice?" He offers with a smirk. "It couldn't hurt," I whisper, his mouth just inches from mine. "Unless you bite," I add and his smirk widened. "Only if you want me to," He shrugs. I grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down, his lips sealing over mine with a fervent force that was unknown to me, his hands mapped my body as he slowly pushed my back into a trunk of a tree, he was entirely addicted to the way I felt, the way I tasted. He was at my mercy and entirely satisfied with the fact.

I arch up into him and he kisses me deeper, pushing me harder into the tree as his tongue swiped over my bottom lip with a needy intent. I parted my lips just wide enough for his tongue to take control, worshipping my mouth like a temple and I could only let him, knew no better but to comply because I loved it, loved the attention, the feeling of him giving me his all while I met him halfway, giving and taking.

“Gods, are you done?” A familiar voice grumbles from the distance and I freeze, Eris’s lips slip from mine, and a broad smirk breaks across his features as he turns to face two winged men, revealing me in the process.

Their eyes weren’t on Eris like mine were, they were pinned directly on me. I smile softly as Eris possessively tightens his hold around my waist, fingers digging into my skin through the material of my dress.

Cassian and Azriel continued to gawk at me, the both of them held straight expressions but their eyes didn’t leave me once, brows twinged upward in both shock and concern, as if I was in any more danger with Eris than with Azriel.

“Are we going to get this over with or are you going to continue to stare?” Eris cut through their gazes and both their eyes snapped towards him. “What’s she doing here?” Azriel seethed, crossing his arms over his chest like he always did when he was infuriated. He was so easy to read for a spymaster. Eris seemed to have recognized this too, anyone angry had little control over what they said, making Eris gain the high ground.

“We can trust her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” The male beside me retorts. Azriel only ground his teeth in reply.

The meeting had started and they began talking about politics, to which I quickly tuned out. Azriel made a few digs at me but it was nothing but a toddler lashing out over not getting what he wants.

It was amusing to watch his cool demeanor deteriorate while Eris found every weakness and dissected it with insults and remarks, I just stared up at the red-haired male with an amused grin, my arms wrapping around his torso, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of his hand that had been slung around my shoulders.

I can remember kissing Azriel’s hands, the scars, it was one of our better moments. It was a low blow to do it to Eris too but it had happened without thought, like an instinct and it made Azriel absolutely feral.

Once the meeting was over Cassian was quick to grab Azriel’s arm and tell him to winnow before he could say anything he’d regret.

“Always a pleasure Cassian,” Eris smiled to the male. “Shadow singer,” He nods his head. “If you don’t mind I’d like to leave early, we have places to be,” Eris looks at me with a smile and I return it. “Yeah enjoy my sloppy seconds,” Azriel spat and I smirked. “You’re the one who told me to find someone who could fuck better than you,” I scoff. “Don’t be jealous because I did.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when I had you before you started whoring yourself around—” He started. “Az,” Cassian warned, even his brother was upset at him. It felt good to make him hurt, felt like power. Eris looked like he was about to retort, looked angry, and angry meant having little control over what you say so I placed a hand on his abdomen and he clamped his mouth shut with a low growl. He knew this was my battle, knew it should go out on my terms. However, that didn’t stop his fingertips from singing with fire.

“It’s humiliating, honestly Az,” I tease. “Don’t call me that,” He bites but I ignore him. “First you lose Elain to Lucien, and now me to his brother?” I say like it’s something to study, a truly demeaning tone. It made him furious. “Maybe you’d be better off going for girls who don’t want you,” I shrug and the spymaster snarled, Cassian winced at the indirect mention of Morrigan. “Just a suggestion,” I shrug, then look to Eris, signaling that I’m finished.

“Excuse us,” Eris flashes them a smile as he slips his warm hand into my cold one. Eris doesn’t wait for them to reply before he winnows us away, back to my apartment.

“You’re a lot more cunning than you look, Sunshine,” Eris says, his hand leaving mine in favor of coming to my cheek as I peered up at him. “I wasn’t too mean, was I?” My brows crease in worry. I wanted to get back at Azriel, sure, but I wasn’t looking to break any alliances. “There’s the girl I know,” He uttered. “I didn’t mean to be impolite— I just,” I begin to ramble until he tilts my head up manually to face him, making me seal my lips shut at the wonder in his eyes, how he looked at me the way no one has before.

“You were perfect,” He reassured. “And watching you tear him apart was awfully attractive,” He smirked. “I did not tear him— what do you mean?” I snap my head up to look at him and he shrugs. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to,” He shrugs. He wanted to?

“Do you, still want to?” I asked meekly with his hands on my cheeks and my heart pounding against my ribs so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“So shy,” He observes with a growing smile. “That’s okay, we can work on that,” He says like it’s a pressing issue, clearly excited to corrupt it out of me.

I rise onto my toes and crash my lips onto his, warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach at the sensation. My hands came to his jaw while he traveled down onto my waist, one finding purchase at my hip while the other came under my hip, tapping twice and indicating for me to jump. I wrap my legs tightly around his torso as he catches me.

My back bows as he leans into it, tilting my head to the side and opening my mouth for his tongue. We blindly stumbled down the hallway, he must’ve been guessing his steps because he was too busy with his lips on mine, too enamored with our kiss to ask which door was my bedroom.

He got lucky and opened the door to the master chamber, quickly closing the door behind him.

I didn’t want to waste another moment without his skin to mine, a moment without him inside of me, a moment without his hands in my hair— so I was grateful when my back met the mattress of my bed and he crawled over me, settling between my open legs, hovering above me with his hands on either side of my head.

We were both panting when he pulled away, need blazing in his eyes like a fire and I leaned closer to smother it, or get burned by it, I hadn’t decided yet.

His lips reconnected with mine and I was quick to reach for the buttons of his shirt, pulling him free from the fabric that strained against his muscular arms while he worked at the ties of my dress.

We were a tangle of limbs and needy pulls until eventually he thrashed my dress off and I unbuckled his pants. He breathed deeply as he pulled away, taking my bare body in, studying every curve and fill of my figure. Gods he looked like an animal with that glint in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” He confessed, head dipping into my neck and leaving sloppy love bites trailing from my jaw to my collarbone. “You imagined this?” I murmur, attempting to tease him but it came out all too soft and innocent. “Fuck, every night baby,” He admits and my cheeks flush.

He manages to get his pants off, freeing himself from the constraints of his boxers. I nearly gasped at the sight of him because, Mother, he was huge.

“Eris I don’t think I can,” I look down at his erect member with creased brows, afraid he might split me in half.

“I know baby, it’s okay, we’ll stretch you out first,” He reassured, placing a gentle kiss on my neck and I nodded, trusting him.

“You want my tongue or fingers?” He questions and his sultry gaze leaves me wanting his lips on mine. “Fingers,” I say, only because I favored his lips when they were kissing me. I’d have to see how good he was with his tongue at a different time.

He flashed an animalistic smile before leaning down and sealing his mouth over mine, tongue immediately finding its place swirling with mine, not a battle but a dance.

He practically rips my panties off, and then two of his fingers dive into my soaked folds, my arousal lubing his hand. He smiles at the feel of me, how wet I was over just a few kisses.

His thumb made contact with my clit and I arched, a soft moan slipping from the base of my throat and he caught it with his mouth. He smirks, his fingers beginning to circle over my pulsing entrance, I ached for him, for all of him.

“Eris,” I pleaded out and that was all he needed before he sent both of his long, wide fingers into my cunt. I gritted my teeth at the stretch, holding back moans as he began to curl them expertly inside of me, flicking over that sensitive spot with ease like he knew exactly where I wanted him.

“Fuck, so good at that,” I murmur incoherently, sweat lining my brow as he continues to pleasure me with his hand alone.

His thumb returned to that delicate bud, teasingly circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. My breathing becomes heavy as a symphony of moans is pulled from my chest. There was no way to explain the feeling in my abdomen, the feeling he caused. It was engrossing and hot, so fucking hot.

He was like a furnace above my body, absorbing all the heat from the room so he could possess it, burning over me.

“Eris, I can’t s’too much,” I whisper helplessly and his hand continues to work, continuing its relentless pleasure over my pussy.

“Be a good girl and cum on my hand, alright?” He instructs and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling that orgasm pick up then tumble over that fine line. My legs jolt as I find release, doing exactly as he said and reaching my high on his fingers alone. “That’s it, just like that,” He hummed, helping me down from my climax as he pulls his fingers from my stimulated cunt.

“You think you’re ready to take me Sunshine?” He tilts his head with a caring look in his eyes, if I didn’t know any better I’d think he was being mean, but his touches were gentle and his movements were slow, hinting that if I wasn’t ready he would stop and we could go to bed now.

“I want you inside Eris,” I confess. I wanted him more than just inside. I was ready to cut myself open and allow him to dissect me, analyze me. But I’d have to settle for this connection instead. “Please,” I beg, tears at the corners of my eyes from my earlier release and he nods. “Tap me twice if it’s too much alright?” He kisses my cheek with the intimacy of lovers who have been tangled in bedsheets for decades. “Okay,” I nod.

We watch as he aligns his heavy cock with my entrance, a pearl of his pre-cum budding at his red, angry tip. He swipes himself through my folds a few times, the weight of him alone enough to satisfy. He lathers himself in my arousal, then strokes himself once, twice, until finally, he pushes his head into my aching slit. He grunts at the tight feeling and I was unsure if I was pushing him out or sucking him in.

He moves deeper, going quicker as to get the most uncomfortable part for me over with. His movements remain gentle, my fingers intertwine into his deep, auburn hair. Whiskey-colored eyes stare down at me half-lidded and it only leaves my heat sopping wet.

I swallow my moans as he reaches halfway, then deeper. He brushes over that perfect, sensitive spot then somehow goes further. I hadn’t even known it was possible to be so fucking long because by the time he had sheathed himself entirely his tip lightly kissed my cervix.

I writhed beneath him as he began to pull in and out, thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace, feeling out what made me feel good and where he was when I moaned the most. He was specializing this entirely to me and how it made me feel.

“Faster,” I panted. “Fuck, Eris I want you feral,” I plead, the tears that had been threatening at my eyes now spilling onto my cheeks, down onto the mattress below my head. He followed my instruction, picking up his pace and beginning to piston himself into me with such a maddening force that the bed began to creak against the power.

He held me tight so I didn’t move up the bed with his movements, and the sounds, the wet, lewd sounds of his cock entering me over and over sent me into a moaning mess.

“Spread your legs,” He ordered. I did as he said, going as far as I could manage. “That’s it, wider baby,” He hummed and I let out a cry of pleasure as he brushed my cervix at his next thrust, breath leaving my lungs momentarily at the feeling. He smirks at the way I squeezed him tighter. He grabbed my thighs and forced my legs apart himself, folding me in half and bringing them up to my chest, holding me in a mating press.

I whimpered at the realization that I was completely vulnerable for him, laid entirely bare and I fucking loved every second of it.

A fire roared in the hearth, the warm light making his skin practically glow with the sheen of sweat on his chest. “You’re so tight,” He grunted out in between thrusts. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.” My pussy pulsed at that, at the unapologetic force of his shaft as he rammed into me, the dirty words, the perfect sounds that filled the room.

Eris continues to push into me, faster this time, his speed outmatched and the look in his eyes, pure lust. He leans down and trails kisses from the side of my neck, taking in the expanse and leaving it with marks and saliva. He kisses to the back of my ear, his soft whimpers inaudible if he was any farther sent me reeling, gods he whined every time he drove into me and I loved every fucking moment of it.

“All mine,” He purrs at the shell of my ear, his breath fanning over my jaw. “All yours,” I reply and he twitches at the devoting words. “No one else can fuck you this good, isn’t that right?” He hums and I mewl— because he was right, he sent me to planets of pleasure, the emotion behind each of his thrusts left me convulsing.

“Mhm,” I nod. “Best I ever had, Eris,” I pant and he smiles, nipping at my earlobe before returning his attention to rolling his hips over mine, his balls slapping against my ass as my slick drips onto my thighs.

He continues to push into me, every injection harder and deeper than the last leaving me to spiral beneath him. His base rubbed against my clit and that had been my breaking point. “Eris, I’m gonna—” I couldn’t even get the words out. “I know, me too baby go ahead,” He allowed and with his next thrust hitting my cervix I found that sweet ecstasy and it was more than just a wave of pleasure it was a tsunami, crashing down onto me with a force I thought I’d never recover from. I felt full, complete.

He followed soon after, his release pumping into me and painting my walls white, and gods he was so close to my womb I could feel his warm seed seep into my cervix while I milked his cock dry.

I pant and my legs jolt as he guides them away from my chest and slowly pulls himself from my throbbing cunt, still squeezing him in despite just experiencing the best orgasm of my life.

He flipped over onto the pillow beside me. Our pants filled the room as the fire dwindled into ash and we were left in the darkness, with nothing but the company of each other.

We lay there for only a moment before Eris left my side on the bed, pulling his boxers back up. I assume he’s going to leave now that whatever transaction this was is over, and even if I felt my heart crumbling to pieces I’d let him go. We didn’t owe each other anything, there was no reason for him to stay anymore, even if I wanted him to.

I ignored the noises of clothes ruffling and drawers opening, closing my eyes and waiting for him to leave until I got up to clean myself.

That was until warm arms came beneath my back and thighs, hoisting me up into his arms bridal style.

“What are you doing?” My brows crease, arms wrapping around his neck involuntarily. “I’m getting you cleaned up,” He explains with such a casual smile it makes my heart beat twice as fast.

He led me into the bathroom and placed me on the cool counter, the apex of my thighs aching with an already developing soreness. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?” He offers, finding a rag beneath the sink and wetting it with warm water. “You were with me for most of my day,” I mumble and he smiles at the fact. “Tell me about before, talk to me,” He says and an odd feeling begins to spread in my chest, the kind that made my cheeks flush and my head spin.

So I did. I told him about my day, how I went to the flower market and ran into a familiar face, how I invited him in for wine and it managed to end in the best sex of my life.

I also told him about how I felt when I was getting my revenge on Azriel. Told him that it made me feel powerful, but also that I was satisfied where it ended and I wasn’t interested in associating with him at all any longer.

I told stories, topics varying in length until I was sure I had been talking his ear off— but he was listening, chiming in now and then, signaling that he was still tuned in to whatever I had to say. It was healing to talk about all of this while he cared for me, his touches gentle and his calloused fingers warm. He healed internal scars with those hands.

When I cleaned myself up I wiped myself down and then changed into a nightgown before getting into bed. He took his chance to go above and beyond, he even offered a bath but I told him I was tired so he only wiped me down in touches so featherlight I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been staring at him in the low lighting the entire time.

He brushed through my hair and made sure I was okay and safe. I had realized he was so gentle with me because of the way his father had treated women in the past, his mother in particular. Becoming a male like that seemed to be Eris’ greatest fear, which made clear why he was so soft with me. And perhaps it was also because I deserved the kindness.

“This one?” He held up my softest nightgown and I nodded, putting my arms up so he could slip it over my head. He grinned as I adjusted the dress down past my head, leaving my hair in my face, making me grin wildly. He reached out and brushed it behind my ears.

“I love that smile,” He hums and my cheeks burn with a blush. He then leans in and presses a loving kiss to my lips. I had never experienced anything quite like it and now I never wanted anything else. He pulled away, analyzing my features beneath the dim light, and if I wasn’t red from his earlier comment I definitely was now.

“Alright, let’s get you into bed,” He reached beneath my thighs and hoisted me up into his arms, carrying me back into my room and then laying me down on the soft mattress.

I sigh contentedly as he slips into the bed beside me. “Can you hold me,” I whisper, feeling confident enough around him to ask such a thing. “Was planning on it,” He smirks, wrapping his arm around my torso, and pulling me right into his chest.

I smirk excitedly, slinging my leg over his torso and wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. “I thought you were tired?” He murmured as I pecked all over his face in lazy kisses. “I don’t want to waste this,” I confess and his gaze softens. “I’ll be here in the morning,” He reassured and I swallowed thickly. “Promise?” I murmur and he nods, pressing a hard kiss on my forehead. “I promise, sunshine.” And those words sent me into the first peaceful slumber I’ve had in a while.

Eris had not been in the bed next to me when I awoke. A sense of hurt and betrayal ran through me at the sight of the empty bed. I audibly groaned in defeat, muttering curses into my pillow because last night had left me so hopeful, but I suppose what’s easy in the evening is a drag by morning.

I huff and slip from my covers, adjusting the straps of my nightgown and leaving my bedroom with small, waddling steps due to my horribly sore legs.

I continued my slow, depressing trudge until I made it into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Eris leaning over the stove, making breakfast.

“You’re going to get burned cooking shirtless,” I warn, ignoring the visible release of tension in my shoulders. Because he held up his promise, even better, he’s making me food. He whirls around to face me with a small smile. “I won’t get burned,” He scoffs, holding his hand out to the fire of the stove, the flames growing then reaching towards him and forming into a ball in his palm.

I marveled and walked closer, staring straight into the flickering ball of heat, dangerously close. “You won’t either,” He says, uncurling his fingers and allowing the fire to stretch into a line of flames leading from me to him. My breath hitched as the flame came into contact with my skin but it didn’t burn, in fact, it barely even tickles. The serpent of fire twines around my wrist, dancing along my skin and I smile, looking up at him excitedly like I was the one controlling it.

“See? You’re safe,” He says then retracts the flames and feeds them back into the fire at the stove. Safe. That was the feeling that’s been filling that pit in my stomach.

“Now, you hungry?” He tilts his head and I look up at him in wonder, why was I ever settling for less when I could have everything I ever wanted with him?

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips hard onto his, attempting to show my gratitude through the action, my chest pressing to his as his arms came around me, heating my frame as I exposed my fragile heart to him and he returned the movement with the same tenderness. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled against my mouth, making me smile giddily up at him.

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[azzo0]

Someone She Used to Know

Summary: Katsuki meets his ex girlfriend after six years.

Warnings: Katsuki's drunk, throwing up, angsty.

Song: Ghost Town- by Benson Boone

wc: 1k

It's been six years since she broke up with Katsuki. He doesn't hate her for it. She did herself justice by breaking up with him. He wasn't there for her. Every day was a day of broken promises where he vowed to come home early, spend time with her, take her on a date, and cuddle on the couch, but he rarely fulfilled his broken promises, getting caught up in hero work instead. He doesn't hate her. He never can. It was his fault he was more focused on work instead.

She was the first and last person he fell in love with.

Six years later, he's sitting in a pub. He gets dragged out by Eijiro and Denki here every weekend, but some days, he prefers coming here alone. The clicking of heels catches his attention, and he glances up from the glass he's been staring at for the past couple of minutes, watching droplets of water race down the glass. It's a woman dressed in a beautiful black minidress with sequins like stars. His eyes move up to the woman's face, and he almost spills his drink. 

It's her, his ex. 

His hands grow sweaty, and he sets the drink on the table in case he drops the glass. He's still as a cat, his breath caught in his throat, heart hammering in his chest. He can feel his shirt clinging to his chest. He hasn't heard a word from her in six years. No texts, no calls, no meeting each other accidentally, so seeing her in the flesh made him dizzy. He couldn't tell if it was the drink or if it was just her. He remembers feeling the same way when he first met her in a cafe. She used to work there at the time, and he'd buy coffee every day from that very cafe despite not being a fan of coffee. Here he was, several years later, feeling the same way. He'd convinced himself that he was over it. Maybe he was not. Maybe that's why he drank like a sad old man by himself every week. Maybe his heart still yearned for her.

She's beautiful, he reminds himself. She's always been beautiful, but did he ever make her feel beautiful? Did he make her feel loved? Could he still make her feel loved? His schedule wasn't the same as it used to be before, given that crime rates had dropped significantly over the past few years, but there wasn't any point now, was there? It was too late. 

He wonders if he should go up to her, watching her check the time on her phone. She shook her head when the waiter asked her if she'd like something, giving him a smile. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, tapping a finger on the table. He catches the glint of a beautiful emerald ring on her ring finger, and he understands. She's waiting for her fiancé. 

He picks up the glass and downs his drink in one big sip. It makes his throat burn. He doesn't care. He gets his glass refilled again. Her fiancé arrives a few minutes later. A tall and handsome man with kind eyes and a warm smile. He watches her eyes light up at the sight of him. Once upon a time, he was the one making her eyes light up like that. She gets up and plants a quick peck on his lips. The man sits across from her, taking her hand, thumb brushing over the ring.

Katsuki thinks of how that could've been him if he wasn't so obsessed with his work back then. If he didn't come home late, after she was deep asleep, cuddling a pillow because he wasn't there and leaving in the early hours of the morning so his side of the bed was cold by the time she woke up. He thinks of how he could have been the one she dressed up so pretty for. How he could've been the one asking her to marry him. 

I don't deserve her, Katsuki reminds himself. She deserves someone who puts her first, someone who's far kinder and loving than he is. Someone who isn't him.

He's lost count of how many drinks he's had at this point. He doesn't remember when he got up. He doesn't know when he got into the parking lot. He's throwing up into a trash can. He feels a hand on his shoulder while he's still vomiting. He glances back to see her watching him with concerned eyes. Her fiancé stands behind her, equally concerned. 

"Are you alright?" she asks. Her voice reminds him of a flower garden. Soothing and calm. 

"Yeah," he manages to croak. Her eyes dart around, looking for his car. He's in no state to drive himself. 

"Would you like me to call Mina or Eijiro?" she asks. 

"No," he slurs. He's drunk, but he's sure her fiancé raises his eyebrows questioningly. 

"Do you know him, love?" he asks, surprised she knows the number two hero. 

"Oh, I used to know him," she replies casually, scrolling through the contacts on her phone. 

I used to know him. 

He tries not to stumble as he watches her talk to one of his friends on the phone. He wants to tell her he's glad she's found the one for her. He's glad she's happy. The words never leave his throat. 

When she was done talking on the phone, she glanced at him with a worried smile, "Would you like us to stay with you in the meantime?" 

He wishes she weren't so kind to him. He wishes she'd give him an ugly stare and tell him he looked pathetic, but she's always been like this. Too kind for her own good. He shakes his head in response. She hums and locks her arm with her fiancé, telling him it was nice meeting him with a goodbye. No see you around. Just goodbye. 

He sits in his car, the back of his hand over his eyes as he waits for one of his friends to pick him up, her words echoing in his head. Oh, I used to know him. She did not say something like 'ex' or a 'friend'. He was just a stranger to her. A someone she used to know. 

Nothing more. 

[ssparksflyy]

i saw requests open and i ran here 🏃🏻‍♀️

i really want to see percy x daughter of hera reader from your writing, because i really enjoy your fics!! u da best 🎀🎀

loveee uuu 🫶🏻

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader warning(s): none !! an: UR SO SWEET ILYTTTTTTT

i just KNOW dating a daughter of hera would have percy twirling his hair and giggling

he thinks he's set for life

and he is. there's no escape.

'you and i go from one kiss to getting married' for reallllllll

you make him feel so giddy there's really no explanation for it

if there's one thing that percy wants, it's a happy future

i don't think he cares about where he is or what he's doing, as long as he's havin fun and happy

and the fact that you're the daughter of the goddess who practically symbolizes what's known as the "perfect" life like ??

he just feels so lucky

you're also really excited to see what the future may hold for you two :))

it's something you guys talk about quite often actually

you can talk about it comfortably and casually as if it's any other thing

"oh, and i was thinking, if we do get an apartment, we should try growing some of those window still plants"

"ooooh, for sure! what about getting some of those sun catcher stickers too?"

↑ that moon-flower thingy that percy got from calypso did not make it to the mini garden... he gave it to one of the demeter kids after you started dating cause there's only one girl he wants in his life, why would he want to keep something that another goddess girl gave to him ??

he's so loyal bye

at least now he is

cause you best believe when he was flirty-flirty with rachel you freaked out

you knew about the countless affairs zeus had and how your mother was forced to sit through it and act as if it didn't bother her, and you hated that

so seeing the guy you have a crush on flirting with another girl when you thought he might've had feelings for you too?? HURT.

obviously he didn't know that at the time (we all know he's oblivious when it comes to love okay) but it was casually brought up one time

you were like 'remember when you were flirting with rachel?? yea that sent me into a down spiral i wanted to cry anytime i saw you lol'

and he was just like '?? when i was flirting??? i was?? why didn't you tell me????? hello????? we should talk about this !!!!!!!'

since then he's made it his mission to never accidentally do something stupid like that ever again so you'd never have to feel that way

but technically the next time it happened it wasn't even his fault so

pre-kidnapping, you actually had a pretty good relationship with her mother

hera would be caring towards her demigod children, she'd want to actually try and be involved in their lives as much as she can

it's not like you were having brunch together every sunday but like, she'd try and stop by cabin 2 every few months or so to catch up with you and see how you were doing

even though she already knows everything, she likes to have a conversation :)

but she's only allowed to stay for a bit cause she's got places to be, people to see, and zeus is a little bitch who can't handle being away from the wife he doesn't care about for more than 20 minutes

(was that canon or did i get that from lore olympus in 2021 ... i think it was canon .... i don't remember honestly)

while percy was missing, your relationship with her just... wasnt there.

the gods were cut off from communicating and your prayers weren't working, so you weren't really anything

but then when jason came into the picture, shit hit fan

first of all - zeus had ANOTHER KID ??

second of all - HE WAS ROMAN ??

third of all - hes being sent on a quest to SAVE YOUR MOM ??

fourth of all - WHERE IS PERCY ????

everything was crazy

you begged to go on that quest. you wanted to know what was happening, you wanted to know if your mom was okay and what was going on with her, but most of all you wanted to find percy

but chiron nor annabeth would let you go, claiming that you weren't in the 'right state' for a quest (you really werent)

not going only managed to stress you out more and caused you to worry ten times more

annabeth would hug you and grover would play something on his pipes to help calm you down some days :((

when jason got back from his quest, even more shit hit the fan cause

YOUR MOM KIDNAPPED YOUR BOYFRIEND AND YOUR (not actually adopted but adopted) BROTHER AND SWAPPED THEIR PLACES, WIPED THEIR MEMORY, AND DIPPED ????

this is what they call female rage

betrayal beyond all others

cause you trusted your mom- hell, she was your mom. and she took away the person in your life who made you happiest?? and for what reason????

after that you didn't even live in cabin two anymore

you couldn't bring yourself to do it. as much as you hated zeus, you moved into cabin one with jason for a while

who you obviously became best friends with

when you finally reunited with percy, he was there to comfort you and hold you close while you talked to him about your mom :((

hes always been such a good listener but those times is when you appreciated it most

percy could care less if he got in trouble with coach hedge for staying over in your room at night, he did it anyway !!

he knew how stressed you were, even with him being back

so like some nights he'd put on a movie and try to distract you from your chaotic lives

he knows the best way to distract you is by talking about your future, and he does just that

"i was thinkin, what about celeste for a girl?"

as much as you love talking about your future, talking about having kids always manages gets you a little nervous

you feel your face get hot and you start stuttering a bit anytime it comes up

"i-i like it, its pr-pretty"

percy just smiles and continues painting your nails

which he's not very good at doing by the way, but at least youre not stressed anymore !!

honestly i feel like you guys would get married pretty young

i wanna say when youre like 23-ish

he keeps the proposal kind of chill but also makes sure its not boring either

it'd be after a date, on a weekend where youre vacationing in montauk ♡♡

he takes you on a stroll along the shore in the afternoon, when the sun is setting and it looks really pretty

leads you back to the house, where there's an arch set up decorated in flowers, theres some petals and candles on the floor

practically gives you a whole speech about how youve changed his life for the better and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, taking care of you and making you happy everyday, officially :((

you obviously say no

just kiddingggggggg

the proposal itself is a little basic (hey its kind of hard to be original and classy nowadays) but percy's words are what make it so special and memorable :(

he hid a camera among the flowers that caught everything cause he knew you would want to look back at it, but also wanted to be alone while he did it

he gets you a gift after your wedding, a gold locket necklace (in the shape of a heart of course) with a picture of you two at your wedding laughing together on one side, and your anniversary engraved on the other ♡♡

makes sure to get you flowers at least once every month !!

oh and you do end up making that window still garden in your apartment :))

it turns into a real garden once you move into a house together !!

honestly, how many kids you have (or if you even have them) is completely up to you

cause i dont wanna be like 'you had three kids. their names were phoebe bridgers, lucy dacus, and julien baker.'

but percy is a girl AND boy dad

mainly girl dad though

he just seems like the type of dad that you come home to seeing him squeezed into a dress, covered in makeup, and wearing a tiara okay

hes so husband i love him

[cherryredstars]

Could we get a part 2 to that breeding kink one shot about the experiment - what would happen if people from different dimensions had a baby? Pleaseee 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 thank uu in advance

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Cock Warming, Breeding Kink, Penetrative Sex

A/N: Of course you guys can!!

Unedited

Part 1

Everything hurts.

You groan as you wake up, your head pounding. You squint your eyes open, brows furrowing when you come face to face with the fabric of your couch. You blink a couple times as you try to get your mind focused, pushing through the persistent hangover to try to figure out why the fuck you're sleeping on your couch. You only connect the dots when a shiver of sensitivity hits you.

You gasp softly when a spike of pleasure runs up your spine, only then registering the hard surface pressing against your back. You turn your head slowly, eyes widening when you come face to face with Miguel. His eyes are closed, mouth slightly parted as he lets out soft breaths. He's pressing you up against the back of your couch, and you know he's probably centimeters away from falling off the small piece of furniture. When he shifts, groaning lowly in his sleep, you remember the pressure on your lower half.

You try to push yourself up as best as you can without disturbing Miguel, looking at the indented lines that run up your arm during your sleep. You hiss softly when the position of your body causes that small spark of pleasure again, and you follow the length of your body down until you find the source of it. Your cheeks flame as you see the mess between your legs, they're sticky and a bit tacky from dried cum. But the real culprit for your embarrassment is the fact that both you and Miguel are naked from the waist down and his dick is still kept nice and warm inside your cunt.

Your mouth drops open, twisting your body to look at Miguel. The turn only jolts his cock inside of you, pressing against your walls more. Both you and Miguel groan at the same time, and in his sleep he presses his body closer to yours. You can feel his cock twitching inside of you in its semi-hard state, and you wonder if he's subconsciously... released inside of you while the two of you were sleeping. The thought alone has you pulsing around him, and you clear your throat to get rid of the new fantasies and foggy memories of last night.

You look around, finding empty and the half-finished cheap beer bottles on the coffee table. On the floor is the discarded clothing from last night. You may be a scientist, but you have no idea how to get out of this situation. There isn't enough room for you to get up and off of Miguel's cock without waking him up, and you find a tiny, naughty part of you just wants to keep cock warming him. But then again, you don't want to suffer the consequences if Miguel wakes up and isn't a big fan of the... position the two of you are in. You bite your lip as you think, sighing through your nose. You place both of your hands on the top of the couch, slowly pulling yourself up. Your mouth falls open as his cock slides against your sensitive walls, gasping out a soft curse.

You're so caught up in the pleasure and your focus on not waking Miguel up, that you don't register Miguel's groggy hum as he begins to wake up. You're almost completely off his dick before you feel large hands wrap around your waist. You let out a loud moan as Miguel's cock is quickly plunged to the hilt inside of you, muting Miguel's own moan. You fall back against his chest as he grinds his hips up into you, whimpering when you feel his cock hardening in awareness. Miguel's face is pressed into the back of your neck, huffing at the left over scent of sex and sweat on your skin. Your hand comes down to his arm that is holding you in place, nails slightly biting into the skin.

"Miguel, wha-"

Miguel cuts you off, nipping at the skin of your neck.

"Don't worry, baby." He mumbles against your neck, his hips slowly beginning to thrust into you, "Just trying to get positive results."

Your cheeks flush at the reference of last night's 'experiment', and you gasp when Miguel's thrusts begin to speed up.

"Gonna make sure you're nice and bred." He growls, his hands traveling down to spread you out wider.

"Want no false positives."

[merakiui]

I love accidental face sits or characters getting their face smushed into your tits with really stoic and uptight characters >:3c

Like imagine Sebek when (spoilers for Chapter 55 of Book 7!!!) you, Grim, Silver, and Sebek land in Lilia’s dream but you fall on top of Sebek. Thankfully he cushioned your fall but uh oh, your skirt is flipped up and your pussy is near his face (and your face is precariously close to his dick pls don’t notice how hard it suddenly got )

And he pushes you off of him after being stunned for a long moment because how dare you, human >:( but he secretly turns around to cover his flushed face and bleeding nose

Or accidentally tripping and Idia gets a face full of your tits :3c this would be something straight out of an anime for him!

Omg with Sebek........ that's so perfect. He would be so huffy and flustered about it. How dare you be so bold! How could you!!!!! Do you have any shame?!?!?! >:( but then he's the one trying to stifle his nosebleed and erection. T^T and if the same thing happened with Silver, who is wholly unaffected and more concerned with making sure you're okay, you already know Sebek is going to insist on walking between the two of you to prevent anything else from happening. Who needs to practice safe sex when you have Sebek there to make sure no one will lay a hand on you? ;;;;;;

And Idia!!!! He's in heaven; this truly is a dream come true. But he's also so embarrassed and he can't look you in the eyes. >_< he's sorry for existing and breathing near you and getting in your space and being alive and and and !!!!!!! Please don't look at him while he hurries to leave before he can make even more of a fool out of himself. He's definitely stalking you through the cameras later that evening while remembering the soft, plush feel of your tits through your shirt. <3

[dunmeshistash]

What do you think about Shuro? And more specifically his relationship with Laios, and idk if you talk about ships but what are your thoughts on laishuro

I have this headcannon that Laios has some sort of unrequited crush on Shuro just because it's sorta funny

I ship pretty much everything. Like, as default I think everyone should kiss everyone 👍

If I'm honest I'm not much of a Shuro fan, he's a little boring to me and reactions to the chimera episode made me dislike him a bit lmao.

Ignoring the fandom I like him as a character and I LOVE his fight with Laios. Shuro's relationship to Laios is my favorite part of that character so laishuro pretty much saves him for me.

In universe Shuro is said to be quite the introvert even for people from his country. He's not the standard for someone from the eastern archipelago and it bothered me a bit when people used that to justify how he wasn't honest to Laios. I understand the idea that he comes from somewhere where reading social cues is not only expected but required but he's also someone who avoids confrontation and is quiet/shy in general.

Here's a bit from Maizuru's description from the adventurer's bible

"People tend to describe Shuro as "drab" and "shy" (...)" so specifically HE IS the exact type of person who would cause the biggest misunderstanding with Laios, just compare him to how his retainers or even his father and brothers act.

It took them saying they used ancient magic on Falin/seeing chimera Falin for him to finally snap, everything else he decided to just take it cause he thought it was better to take it than to confront Laios directly.

So besides the cultural differences you have to take into consideration this was pretty much the perfect storm brewing for that confrontation, and it's as much who Shuro is as a person and who Laios is as person that caused it.

I also disagree that the fight was a "they're both in the wrong" situation. Don't get me wrong, Laios was VERY culturally insensitive to Shuro and even more insensitive to his feelings, but there was nothing he could have done differently with the information that was available to him.

Specifically I see this comic being used to justify how Laios was to blame too, making Shuro into the victim

Like that's a major white guy move but he DIDN'T HEAR Shuro's name and Shuro never corrected him. I'd understand it if his reaction was "Your name is too complicated so I'll call you Shuro instead" that would be a major dick move, but Laios did not hear his name because Toshiro mumbled it, and for someone that forgot Kabru's name several times I imagine he made an effort to remember Shuro's.

Laios never met someone from the eastern archipelago before this, nobody ever explained to him he wasn't acting in an appropriate manner and most of all he thought they were friends. He trusted Shuro to set boundaries for him, he always respects boundaries that are set even when he doesn't fully understand them (Recalling the "I forgot about feelings.." when Chilchuck says it feels wrong to eat merman)

Instead of explaining ANYTHING to Laios, Shuro instead held it all in until it exploded all at once, he blamed Laios for not knowing something he couldn't know, and accused him of not being serious about saving his own sister.

Just imagine how this must have felt for Laios, everyone is always underestimating how serious he is, everyone accuses him of being stupid, clueless, and now this guy is telling him he isn't serious about saving the person he loves the most in the world and wants to protect always. To me this wasn't a "they're both in the wrong" situation, Shuro is far more in the wrong than Laios. But that's just how I see it.

That all being said, they understood each other finally and made peace after that fight.

And several times after this we see that Shuro really cares for Laios, and Laios still wants to be his friend. He even offered to save Laios if he fails (and he's sure he's gonna fail). So their relationship is dear to me, especially cause after this they finally have the foundation for a true mutual friendship <3

I think my dislike of Shuro comes from relating to him to be honest, it happens often that I see my own failures on a character and get angry at them for being angry at myself lmao. I also got a little annoyed cause I only saw people defending him, apparently those were made as a response to hate he had gotten? But since I never actually seen the hate it just felt annoying to see Shuro being white knighted.

Anyway I love the two of them together and I'm really happy they finally understood each other better. laishuro might be my favorite Laios ship, one sided crushes are great.