#i really want to know what did they do while they were on the run

[rafecameroninterlude]

[🍩] soft!dom!rafe x breeding kink x corruption kink😜😜 with hella dirty talk😫

warnings: bambi!reader, innocent!reader, established relationship, making out, heavy petting, pussy slapping, oral (f. receiving), rafe is messyyyyy lol, unprotected sex, rough sex, crying, blood (very little, it’s from a bite lol), breeding, multiple orgasms, rafe slaps you just once, corruption kink, lots of dirty talk, first time, loss of virginity, fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, slapping, soft aftercare, brief mentions of having kids

a/n: i think i got really carried away with this but breeding kink with bambi was something i wanted to write but was unsure of how to start it lol so thank you so much for this request 🤍

rafe was in heaven right now and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. he kissed you gently, the feeling of your fingers stroking his face while he caged you between his arms was everything he didn’t know he needed. “you show up in this pretty little dress of yours, did you have this planned?” you gasped when you felt his hand snake under the soft material of your dress, his touch skimming over the waistband of your underwear. “no. ‘just wanted to look pretty for you..” you whispered, those doe eyes of yours beaming up at the man on top of you. “you do. you look perfect.” rafe sighed.

slipping his tongue in your mouth, your eyebrows drew together as you couldn’t help but move your hips against the thigh he had between your legs. rafe looked down, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you rut against him. “does that feel good?” he hiked your dress up, wanting a better view of your clothed cunt. you hummed, your skin flushing as rafe concentrated on the way you moved underneath him. hands roaming your body, there wasn’t an inch of you that went untouched. slipping your dress off, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest.

despite you two being together for a while, the furthest you two had ever gotten was making out and a little groping here and there, but that was it. rafe had no problem waiting until you were ready to go there. you shivered, the chilly air of rafe’s room making your nipples harden right before his eyes. “fuck, bambi..” he cupped one of your tits, a whimper leaving your lips when he leaned down and took the other in his mouth. “are you okay if i do this?” you glanced down at his hand moving your underwear to the side. meeting his eyes, you nodded. “please.”

rafe watched your face morph into one of full blown pleasure when he gathered the wetness at your entrance and glided the tips of his fingers to your clit. “you’re soaked.” he laughed, making you turn your head away from him out of shyness. grabbing your chin, rafe squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to look at him as his fingers started working your sensitive bundle of nerves. you were instantly trying to draw away from his digits, the motions being far too much for you at once. “shhh, don’t run from it,” he licked a stripe up the column of your throat, “let me watch you.” he smiled teasingly.

you smiled back, only for it to be wiped from your face when he slapped your folds, the sensation making you jolt. despite it stinging for a quick second, you started chasing his hand for more. “you want another one?” he slapped you again, this time making your thighs shake, “my little whore likes that, huh?” you were surprised at the name calling, but even more suprised when you found out you liked it. “talk to me, baby. tell me what you want..” his lips ghosted over yours. rafe had gotten you so wet, you could hear your slick with each stroke of his fingers. “wanna go all the way with you, ray..”

rafe swore he could hear the angels singing. he’s been waiting, anticipating for this day to come. “yeah?” he kissed you, slotting himself between your thighs before pulling away from your cunt. “yes. ‘want you so bad!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, sucking the remnants of you off of his digits. oh, god. pulling him close, you kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. taking your underwears off in one swift movement, you palmed rafe in his shorts, your eyes widening when you felt how large he was in your hand.

“you’ll be fine, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you..” in rafe’s mind, you had already did this before, but the look on your face was starting to make him think otherwise. his suspicions were confirmed when you looked up at him with watery eyes. “is it going to hurt?” you whimpered, his erection resting heavily on your tummy. rafe studied you for a moment. “you’ve never had sex before?” you shook your head, biting your lip nervously. rafe felt so wrong for being so turned on at the revelation. “have you ever touched yourself?” rafe was on the brink of losing his mind. “no..”

that was it. this man was going to ruin you. “i’m sorry, it’s embarrassing.” you pouted, looking away from him. embarrassing? rafe felt like he could cum right then and there. “that’s not embarrassing at all, baby.” he reassured you, moving away any stray hairs you might’ve had in your face. “you know what that means? that means i get to turn you into my own personal little slut.” his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach. rafe unbuckled his belt, his shorts and boxers now long forgotten. despite being horny out of his mind, rafe still checked to make sure you were okay.

“are you sure about this, bambi?” you watched as he snaked down your body, hooking your thighs to his shoulders. a shaky breath left your lips, your hands intertwining with his as he pressed kisses to your flesh. “yes, i want you-” you were cut off by rafe’s tongue delving into your sweetness. your back arched off of his mattress, your thighs threatening to snap around his head. the only word you could use to describe the noises in rafe’s room was lewd. the slurping, grunting, moaning, it was all hitting you at once that this was actually happening.

rafe was so hard already, his own fist wrapped around his cock as he sloppily lapped at your soaked pussy. he couldn’t get enough. instinctively, you couldn’t help your hips from grinding against his face, your boyfriend doing everything to make you tremble and shake in pure bliss. you freed one of your hands from his grip and trailed it up your chest, squeezing your tit while rafe groaned at the sight. “i haven’t even put any fingers in you, baby, you’re going to be a mess by the time i actually fuck you.” you cried out when he sucked your clit, his middle finger prodding at your entrance.

gasping at the intrusion, rafe shushed you as you whimpered at the unfamiliar stretch. “how are we doing, sweetheart?” he looked up at you, cursing under his breath. you were so fucking tight, he could only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. “..hurts a little.” you took a breath, moaning when he curled his digit. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise baby. ‘gonna make you cum so fucking much.” he continued working on your clit, the added stimulation making your eyes screw shut. rafe waited until you were gasping his name before entering a second finger.

you practically screamed, your hands shooting down to dig your nails into his skin. “rafe, i think i’m!-” you froze, your eyes rolling back as you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. suddenly you couldn’t breathe, your mouth falling open in a silent moan before your legs started to shake. rafe knew you were cumming and it only made him go rougher on you, wanting your first orgasm to be unforgettable. inserting a third finger, your eyes shot open as you thrashed against his sheets, your body trying to retract from him.

“r-rafe, s’too much! i can’t!” your words came out choppy with each breath you tried to take, your boyfriend eventually bringing you down from your high. you had tears rolling down your cheeks, your entire body feeling like jelly as rafe came up from between your thighs. the lower half of his face, and even the tip of his nose, was glistening with your slick. rafe had given you a taste of something you soon felt like you couldn’t get enough of. rafe grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look down where he lined his cock up with your entrance.

you met each other’s eyes, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before he slammed into you, both of you having two different reactions. while rafe doubled over, absolutely enthralled by how tight you were, you were crying, your nails leaving crescents in rafe’s side. you were only able to take half of his length, but rafe was determined to give you the whole thing by the time he was done. while the feeling wasn’t exactly painful, you just felt so full. rafe took your lips in a searing kiss, pulling out before thrusting into you again. “you feel so fucking good, you know that?” he praised you.

rafe started thrusting into you until any sense of discomfort melted away. “oh my god, look at you taking me so fucking well..” rafe whispered against your skin, littering your neck and chest with kisses. wrapping your arms around his neck, you didn’t hold back from moaning underneath him. “rafe go faster, please!” your boyfriend smiled, pulling away momentarily to see that dark look in your eyes. “whatever you want, baby.” you cried out when his hips slammed into your own, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “oh, rafe..” you shuddered, now that you were filled to the brim.

“you’re so perfect, you want this dick everyday?” you nodded frantically, not seeing how you could go without it now. “yeah? i bet you do..” he laughed, “‘been wanting to corrupt you since i got you, baby. your sweet little innocent eyes looking up at me when i would rub you through your panties, you have no idea how bad i wanted to get you naked and fuck you until you were crying for me to stop.” he slapped your cheek, a gasp leaving your lips at the action. “look at you now, you’re gonna be begging for this all the time.. ‘might just fuck a baby into you, huh?” you whimpered at his words.

“i want that.” you panted, his pubic bone slamming down on your clit with each thrust. “yeah? you want me to fill you up? get you all pretty and pregnant?” god, what was happening to you? “yes, ray! i want it so bad, ‘want your babies!” now it was rafe’s turn to get hysterical, the idea of you growing round with his seed turned him on beyond belief. “fuck!” he grunted, “oh, i wanna see that so bad, ‘want you walking around tanneyhill with your tummy full. everyone will know what we did.. what you let me do to you.” rafe didn’t care if it was the heat of the moment making you two talk like this, he just knew that you were it for him.

“how about i breed you right now, bambi? you want that?” he hoped you’d say yes, considering he wasn’t going to last very long. when he felt you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in, he nearly lost it by how turned on he was that you wanted the same thing. “please give it to me!” you cried, your boyfriend pulling you into his chest where he embraced you, making you unable to move away from him. you buried your face in his neck, biting down on his flesh as his hips stuttered, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum inside of you. you relished in the feeling, your walls milking him for all that he had.

“son of a- fuck! you’re squeezing me so fucking hard.” he shivered, the feeling of you gripping him from the base was undeniably the best thing he’s ever felt. reaching down, rafe rubbed hard circles on your clit until you came around him, only making you spasm even more. after you had raked your nails down his torso, and drew blood from biting him so hard, rafe had pulled out of you with a hiss, not a single drop of cum dribbling out. you had taken it all. “holy shit, are you okay, babe?” you looked spent. droopy eyes, swollen lips, tear stained cheeks, rafe thought you couldn’t get any more prettier than this.

you spotted the bite mark on his neck. “ray, you’re bleeding..” you attempted to sit up but failed pathetically when your arms gave out from under you. “s’okay.. stay right here, i’ll be right back.” you were dazed, your vision hazy as rafe went to grab a cold towel. when he came back, the blood from the curve of his neck was gone and he wrapped you in his sheets. dabbing the towel on your forhead, you suppressed a giggle at his ministrations. “i’m okay, rafe.” you pecked his cheek, grabbing his arm so he could spoon you. pressing a kiss to your temple, he massaged soothing circles into your side.

“you were so good for me, baby..” he whispered, his words making your heart flutter in your chest. “you promise i wasn’t some amateur?” rafe shushed you, a laugh tumbling from his mouth. “no way, you were great. i don’t know how we’re gonna get through a day without ravaging each other.” you hummed, already daydreaming about the next time. “did you mean what you said earlier? about wanting a baby?” rafe turned you around so you were face to face. you trailed a finger down his jaw. “well, i’ve always wanted kids..” you smiled. “with me though?” rafe’s eyes softened when you nodded.

“with only you..”

[httpisaoki]

AN IMMORTAL'S LOVE — teaser

sypnosis. for centuries, yu jimin has been living life bored— the same townfolk, the same corrupt nobles— if ever, killing mortals seemed more entertaining than whatever life she was living. did she care? No, the dutchess grew to forget every sense of humanity until, a nobleman's reader catches her attention— who says she can't entertain herself for a while?

tags. non-idol! au; vampire! karina; reader's gender isn't specified; mostly written; aespa au; set in the 1800s; slight royalty! au;

warnings. inappropriate language, suggestive themes, angst, blood and killing (?) mentioned, karina is very sadistic (at first), reader's essence feeds into her obsession, karina isn't sane!

aoki's note. wow, new teaser! xd (might be back..)

She found it funny. No, hilarious, that a mere mortal like you would have the scent she’s been longing for centuries.

Karina has always been hard to impress, but you? You don’t even have to try.

Your record, your status, your mere personality— most importantly, your essence, all check the vampire’s desires. You were perfect for her.

She knew she had to have you as hers after spending thousands just to get information on you despite how frustrating it was considering how private you were, but it piqued her interest. A game of cat and mouse, she calls it.

Except you don’t even know of her existence.

Living in tranquil, complete oblivious to her obsession with you— all the times she had 'innocently' entered your life in multiple scenarios, you never paid attention to her antics— and it irked her to no end.

In the present time, she sits in her manor, holding the pieces of paper her right-hand man— All containing your latest whereabouts. You were a puzzle, she thinks. A puzzle she wants to solve. Having made her decision, she nodded to minjeong, a satisfied gleam in her eyes that intimidated the assistant no doubt.

“I want the mortal by tonight. Be discrete, I will have your head if you hurt them.” The vampire orders, her voice echoing through the walls of the manor.

—

You don’t remember a thing, only a vivid memory of running some errands, and then your vision went black. You had no idea what was happening, but you knew you had to do something. Now, you stir awake, waking up in a dark room— in a chair with your hands tied to it, completely unaware of the presence behind you.

To the older woman’s surprise, the first thing you do is scan the room, before you calmly place a tug on the rope that bonded you. Interesting, the woman notes, a smirk gracing her features as she steps closer— her beginning to turn crimson as your scent fills her nostrils.

“You really are quite the phenomenon, darling.” She murmurs, placing her hands on your shoulders, a cruel laugh escaping her throat when she feels you tense.

“Are you afraid, my darling?” She whispers, her breath fanning your ear. She’s too close for comfort, but she’s enjoying your little reaction to her presence far too much to pull away.

“Don’t fear. I have no plans of harming you,” she assures, tracing the rim of your earlobe with her cold finger— a chuckle leaving her lips at the feeling of you flinching from her touch.

Her hands snake along your neck, before moving up to caress your cheek.

“I only want you as mine.”

[itneverendshere]

how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue

found a girl my parents love - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole sometimes, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure. also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗

Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could. 

Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.

It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.

The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.

So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.

He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. 

And honestly? She did.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.

"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”

You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”

He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”

You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”

“Oh, I like her!”

She kept her word. For a little while, at least.

A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.

“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.

Girlfriend.

Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.

Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”

Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?

Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious. 

Well, he was serious.

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s a pogue!”

Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.

“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”

He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”

“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”

He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.

Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”

“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”

“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.

“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”

The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.

“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”

Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”

He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”

Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?

“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.

His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”

He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”

He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.

“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”

Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”

Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”

“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”

This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all. 

An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.

“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”

“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”

Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words. 

“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”

You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”

Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”

But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”

His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”

You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”

Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”

You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”

He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We’re solid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.

“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”

His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”

He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.

“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.

Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration

“You’re more than good enough for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.

“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”

He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.

He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.

You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.

“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.

You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It was real now.

Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.

“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”

“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”

“Kinda?”

He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.

Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.

“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”

He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”

You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”

Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”

That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.

“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”

Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”

“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”

Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”

“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.

“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”

“Define hell.”

Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You what?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."

You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”

He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”

“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”

“Yeah.”

That made it a little easier to breathe.

The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.

Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.

“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”

You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”

The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.

“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”

You kissed his palm, “I know.”

“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.

“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.

Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."

Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?

Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.

The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.

At least to him.

Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.

"Good luck.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"

No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

He pushed open the door, and there he was.

Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."

You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.

Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.

"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."

You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”

It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.

You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”

His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.

“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”

Wait. What?

You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.

“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.

“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.

“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.

“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.

“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”

You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.

You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.

“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."

Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?

Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."

You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.

But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."

Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.

You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”

“Thanks again.”

Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.

Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"

He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.” 

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”

You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”

Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.

[bro-atz]

what we do to boys who are on the run

in which: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.

pair: mafia boss!mingi/afab!reader

word count: 6.6k

content: smut, angst (everybody gets mad at bro), mingi's got a gun!, mingi's also on the run oops, some depiction of violence, wounds and bullets and general injuries, domestic!mingi?, big dick!mingi agenda, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), creampie?, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: hold onto your hats this is going to be a long note— and the extremely sylus inspired brain rot continues! domestic sylus anyone? also inspired by the movie ittefaq (you gotta really squint to see it tho) ONE MORE THING this is my contribution to the @cultofdionysusnet summer event: see u on the flip side; and lastly, i'm making this a sylus inspired brain rot series (sorry not sorry) ENJOY special thanks to choy @skteezcursed @ja3hwa and @k-hotchoisan

what we do to boys series: san, mingi

You didn't mean for it to happen. You went to the airport to surprise your brother. Well, you were going to "kidnap him" since he didn't know you were going to be there, but what you didn't know was that he missed his flight, so he decided to cancel his trip. And it certainly was not your fault for mistaking the man with the sunglasses and face mask for your brother. However, it was definitely your fault for putting a pillowcase over his head and pulling him to your car so you could bring him back to your apartment.

When you sat the man down in your living room and unveiled him, you were mortified. Sitting on the couch was a man with sharp eyes, a sharp nose, and the most attractive lips you had ever seen in your entire life— also, he had a gigantic gash across his cheek. This guy was most definitely not your brother— so who the hell was he? More importantly, how and why the hell did he let himself get kidnapped by you when he easily could've gotten away from you with all those damn muscles? And most importantly, why the hell was he bleeding?

"What the fuck?! You're not my brother!" were the first words out of your mouth upon seeing the man.

Rubbing his temples, he looked up at you with a piercing glare, sending shivers down your spine. "You treat your brother like this? Damn, I feel for the guy."

Still completely shaken by the fact that you abducted a total stranger and brought him into your home, your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and unfortunately for you, your body chose fight. You grabbed the lamp next to the couch and held it in front of you awkwardly.

"W-Who are you?!"

"Definitely not your brother, that's for sure," the man chuckled dryly.

"Don't act smart with me!" you raised the lamp, threatening to break it over his head. "I-I'll use th— I'm not afraid to u-use this!"

The slight smirk on his face dropped when you weakly threatened him. Moving his jacket aside, he revealed a gun while saying calmly, "Princess, that's not a weapon. This is. Now, put down the lamp before you break a nail, alright?"

Your blood froze the second you saw the gun. Meekly, you obeyed him, praying that he wouldn't pull the gun out of his holster. He silently gestured for you to get on your knees and kneel before him, which you did. Leaning forward, he brought his face closer to yours.

"You're going to answer my questions first," he started, his low voice practically scaring you shitless. "Why'd you want to kidnap your brother?"

"I-It was supposed to be a prank... He didn't know I was coming to the airport..."

"Why didn't you think to check who I was first before deciding to kidnap me?"

"You were wearing the sunglasses and the mask— You looked like my brother from behind, so I just acted— I got confused," you rambled, your brain desperately trying to keep it together while you answered his question.

"I see," he nodded and leaned back. "And what about your brother?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were at the airport to kidnap your brother, right? Is he on his way?"

"I— I don't know," you stuttered.

"Call him. Find out," he nodded.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to see that you didn't have to call him— he texted you the entire saga on how he missed his flight and that he would not be visiting since the airplane tickets were too expensive.

"Well?" the man asked after several moments of silence passed.

"He's not coming..." you whispered, suddenly realizing that your chance at survival diminished significantly due to the fact that no one was going to come to your apartment.

"Good."

Good? Why good?!

"What do—"

"No, princess. I'm not done asking questions just yet," he interrupted you. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"I-In the bathroom..."

"Where is the bathroom?"

"Down the hall..."

The man stood up and immediately winced, his hand flying to his stomach to clench it. He took one step away from you, only to turn on his heel. He did the thing you feared he would do: he took his gun out of his holster. You were practically near tears seeing the gun so close to you.

"Take me there. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Nodding, you led him to the bathroom. He didn't touch you, but he forced you to enter the bathroom first, ensuring that you wouldn't be able to escape.

I kidnapped him, so why am I the one being held hostage?

He put his gun down on the sink and started looking through the cabinets for the first aid kit, but he was looking in all the wrong places, so you cleared your throat and asked, "Can I get it for you?"

He froze. He looked at you, then nodded once. You grabbed the first aid kit from where it was and set it down on the sink next to the gun. You considered using that chance to grab the gun and use it on him, but you didn't have the courage to do that— plus, you knew that you were somehow going to manage to shoot yourself in the process.

The man opened the box and grabbed a couple different things from the box— you couldn't tell what he grabbed because the lid of the box blocked your view— then started taking his jacket and shirt off. You immediately looked away, unsure of what to do at that moment. Sure, you could've looked at him warily since he was holding you hostage, but you also didn't want him biting your head off for looking at him while he did what he had to do.

As you pondered these questions, you heard him hiss in pain, immediately snapping your attention to him. You barely acknowledged how defined the muscles on his torso were before realizing he was cleaning a wound on his waist, instantly making you panic.

"You were stabbed?! You should go to the hospital!"

"I wasn't stabbed, I was grazed by a bullet," he replied while rolling his eyes. "And do you really think a guy like me should be in a hospital? I'll get arrested."

"Maybe for the gun, but if you're not a bad guy—"

"I would like to think that I am—" he interrupted you. "A bad guy."

"W-What do you mean...?"

"Oh, princess... You really should be careful next time you try to abduct someone..."

He set down the stuff from the kit and took a step towards you. Your back was pressing uncomfortably against the sink countertop as he pinned you in place, his face lowering to meet yours. Despite the fresh scar on his face and his general lack of warmth, you had to admit that he was kind of hot.

You felt your face flush with warmth, and you immediately avoided eye contact. The man stifled a snicker as he smirked. "You're cute, princess," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

He finally moved away from you to tend to his wound, letting you breathe. You kept your eyes on the ground, but your eyes would occasionally flit over to him to see what he was doing. He cleaned up the wound and was bandaging it when you glanced at him the seventh time. Surprisingly, he cleaned up after himself and closed the kit before putting it back where you got it out from. You kind of expected him to tell you to do that— but at this point, you didn't know what to expect.

"Come."

He held the gun in front of you again, and your nerves ran cold again. You left the bathroom first, the man following after you. You returned to the living room where he sat down on the couch with a grunt and you stood in front of him.

"So, since you kidnapped me," the man started, nearly making you roll your eyes at him. "I think it's only fair that you deal with the consequences and let me stay here a while."

"Huh?"

"I need a place to lay low. I was going to make other arrangements, but... I wouldn't mind staying in some princess's frilly little apartment."

You gritted your teeth and did your best to keep from yelling at him. After all, he could definitely kill you if you acted up. 

"I suppose that makes sense," you bit out.

"Great then—"

"But! I have some conditions."

You watched the man's gaze harden. You held your breath as he leaned forward, his gun still in hand. You were terrified he was going to hold it up, but he didn't.

"Never interrupt me, princess," he said, his deep voice scaring the shit out of you.

"Sorry," you squeaked.

He leaned back into the couch. He set his gun next to him, and you let go of the breath you had been holding.

"What are these conditions of yours?"

"If you're going to stay here, then you need to answer some questions I have for you," you stipulated.

"Alright," he said with a massive sigh. "You get one question."

"Only one?"

"Is that the question you want to ask?"

"No! No," you shook your head. "Just— Hold on."

The man looked at you as you thought about all the questions you had for him. Truth be told, you didn't want to know anything about his injury or his gun because that was just a nightmare waiting to happen. Finally, you settled on your question.

"Why do you want to stay here?" you asked.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Wait! Then, I want one more question since you technically didn't answer my last one," you countered.

"Fine."

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

"...Mingi."

The night after you kidnapped Mingi, you looked him up online, and while you did struggle a bit, you managed to find some articles about him and his gang. The more you uncovered about him, the more terrified you became of him. To think he used that gun to actually kill someone meant that he wasn't joking when he held the gun to your head— that thing was definitely loaded with real bullets.

You didn't know how long he was going to stay for, but when one of his underlings delivered a package— the biggest box you had ever seen— to your workplace, you figured he was going to be there for a while. You wanted to tell him off, but knowing that he hid his gun from you but could use it at any time made you keep your damn mouth shut.

Despite this home invader maximizing your anxiety, Mingi was surprisingly helpful and respectful, which only made you more wary of him.

Honestly, he was kind of like a dog if dogs had thumbs. You didn't have to worry if he would be gone when you left for work because he definitely made himself at home on your couch and promised you that he'd be waiting for you to get back— although, the first time he said it, it was more like a threat, like "if you don't come back home and try to tell the cops, I will kill you," type thing— but after that, it really was like walking home to a loyal dog. A loyal dog who would have dinner ready for you the second you got home.

"Hey, princess, you're home," Mingi greeted from the kitchen as soon as you walked through the threshold.

That was another thing. He still called you princess. And again, you wanted to tell him to stop, but you were too damn afraid to say anything to him.

"Yeah," you replied, exhausted. "I am..."

You threw your bag somewhere in the living room then trudged to your bedroom before flopping onto the bed. Your day at work was fine, but living with the mafia boss drained all of the energy from you that every action you made took twice the amount of effort that it should've. The second your face hit the pillow, you passed out.

When you woke up later that night, you woke up to see food for you on the kitchen countertop with a little note from Mingi that simply read "eat". You glanced at him on the couch where he was peacefully sleeping, the blanket he used to cover himself slowly slipping off his body.

That was your first mistake with the mafia boss. You shouldn't have cared, but you couldn't help it. You fixed the blanket for him. When you fixed it, he snuggled into the blanket and let out the softest sigh, your heart skipping a beat. You froze when he adjusted his sleeping position, worried that he would wake up, but he didn't. Carefully, you made your way back to the kitchen, ate the food he left for you, then went back to bed.

After seeing him sleep peacefully that one singular time, you unintentionally lowered your guard around the man.

One day, you got home from work to see Mingi sitting in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone, but you couldn't tell who because the second you entered the room, he hung up.

"Who were you talking to?" you couldn't help but ask.

"None of your concern," Mingi brushed your question off. "How was work today?"

"Tiring... I think I'm going to go take a nap—"

"Don't do that. If you take a nap now, then you're going to be awake all night, and then you'll be even more tired at work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Saturday, Mingi," you pointed out.

"Oh... Well, don't take a nap. Keep me company."

Your stomach flipped. You had no idea why, but it did. Maybe you were scared— the man wasn't exactly an angel, and the way he said it was a little nerve-wracking, but he didn't sound malicious. Regardless of your confusion, you decided to just listen to him.

You sat at the kitchen island while Mingi went into the kitchen to start making something. As you sat there, however, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you stood up and joined him near the stove, watching him as he tossed a couple of vegetables into the pan. You stared at the vegetables just tossing and turning, your eyes starting to get even heavier than before. Before long, your eyes were fully closed, and you started leaning towards Mingi. The second your body came in contact with his, though, you jerked awake and stood up perfectly straight.

"Did you just fall asleep standing up?" he asked with slight amusement as he looked at you, but the straight look on his face suggested that he was anything but amused.

"...Yes."

Mingi lips curled upwards into a slight smirk as he looked back to the stove. He smirked, and your heart fluttered. Your freaking heart fluttered for the mafia boss's insane side profile and devilish grin.

You were done for.

You don't know when the dynamic started shifting for the two of you. Heck, you didn't even know when you went from fearing for your life to enjoying every second you spent with the mafia boss.

Since he pretty much refused to leave your apartment, and you didn't have much of a social life outside of work, you were alone in your apartment together a lot. You started hanging out with Mingi more as a way to keep yourself from taking a nap as soon as you got back from work, and to fill the time between getting home and bedtime, you watched movies, played games, and just talked with the guy. He never told you anything about himself, but he could somehow talk about anything and everything for hours and hours on end.

One night, the two of you were watching a pretty innocent movie— so innocent to the point where it was honestly boring the shit out of you. You stifled a yawn as you and Mingi sat on your couch while watching the movie.

"Come on, the movie isn't that boring," he commented when he saw you actually yawn.

"I'm tired, and this is the world's slowest movie. I'm going to yawn," you retorted.

"Maybe we should change it then..."

Mingi grabbed the TV remote and flipped the channel, the next channel immediately showing the most intimate scene you had ever seen in a movie in your entire life. The second the scene appeared, you heard the characters on screen moan loudly. You choked on your spit and looked away while Mingi panicked and turned off the TV.

Silence filled the living room. You buried your face in your hands. Mingi covered his mouth with his hand. Neither of you dared to speak or even look at each other. The silence continued to persist until Mingi cleared his throat.

"I... Um..." he tried to clear the air with a wavering voice. "M-Maybe we shouldn't watch a movie tonight..."

"Y-Yeah..."

There was another bout of awkward silence. You stood up and silently retreated to your room. Before you closed the door, you squeaked out a quick "good night" to the man in the living room, only to bury yourself in your bedsheets. Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning— the moment was definitely not expected and awkward, but despite how insane the circumstances were, you were somehow turned on.

The dynamic definitely shifted after that point.

You and Mingi were still friendly with each other, but there was always something underlying in every interaction the two of you shared. It was either prolonged eye contact, or electricity every time the two of you briefly made physical contact with each other. Honestly, Mingi just breathing made you feel like your entire body was on fire, and the longer the tension persisted, the more desperate you got for him to do something— anything— with you. 

However, you lacked the courage to tell him that. So, one day, you sat yourself down in front of your vanity mirror in your bedroom and gave yourself a pep talk. Well, you were actually getting ready for an office party you were expected to go to, but you talked yourself into finally making some sort of move on him when you got back from the party.

As you got ready, you planned it out in your head. You were going to slip out of the apartment without Mingi knowing that you left, have only one drink at the party, and then come home immediately after. Luckily, you were able to do just that— you didn't run into Mingi on your way out, you managed to only get through the party on one glass of wine, and you returned home shortly thereafter.

When you got home and opened the door, Mingi didn't expect to see you wearing the tightest dress he had ever seen you wear. His brain short-circuited the longer he stared at the beautiful shape of your body, his eyes drawn to the way the dress hugged your bosom so tightly that it seemed like your chest was ready to pop out of the dress.

"I was wondering where you went," he murmured when you walked back into the apartment.

"There was a company party. I had to go," you sighed as you took your heels off, your sigh slightly turning into a moan of relief.

Mingi gulped nervously when he heard you, his body flushing with heat. It only got worse for him when you shook out your hair, messing it up a little.

As you ran your fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but notice the peculiar look on his face. Sober you would've just dismissed it, but you had enough liquid courage inside you to open your mouth and tease him.

"What is it?" you asked him, a smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing," he immediately responded while sucking in a breath.

You took a step towards him, your body mere centimeters from his. You held his arm, prompting him to look directly into your eyes.

"It doesn't seem like nothing," you whispered.

The man pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly through his nose, his entire body tingling when you rubbed his arm slowly with the faintest touch.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, princess?"

You bit your lower lip and nodded, a smile playing on your lips. Your hand moved from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck, your fingers tracing a line down the back of his neck. You closed the distance between you, pressing your body against his. Mingi exhaled slowly, heavily, and he let out a little grunt when you pulled his face towards yours, your lips barely brushing against his.

Mingi looked at you with wide eyes. When you kissed him properly, he acted without another thought. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back harshly, hungrily. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, his large hands cupping underneath and pulling you upwards so that he wouldn't have to bend as much to kiss you.

You clung to Mingi's shoulders when you felt his tongue push into your mouth, making a moan slip out of your mouth. You met his intensity with your own to the point where you were kissing him as if your life depended on it. Your hands desperately clung to him before you ran one hand down his chest, down his stomach, to his waist. You cupped your hand over his clothed hard-on, and that's when everything suddenly changed.

The second he felt your hand on his cock, Mingi pushed you away. He was breathing heavily as he increased the space between the two of you, his chest heaving as he avoided eye contact with you.

"No..." he muttered between breaths. "We shouldn't..."

"What? Why not?"

Mingi bit his lower lip in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. He racked his brain for the proper justification, but he just couldn't come up with anything.

"I... I can't explain."

You huffed in frustration. "You can't keep using that as an excuse, Mingi—"

"Please don't be mad," he interrupted you. "It's just... Can you just trust me when I say we shouldn't?"

"You, the guy with a gun? You want me to trust you?"

"Please."

You took a step away from Mingi. You pushed your hair out of your face and avoided eye contact with him. You were filled with frustration and anger at that point, but you knew that arguing with him was pointless.

"Fine," you finally bit out. "Whatever."

With that, you stormed off to your room and slammed the door behind you.

You and Mingi were walking on eggshells around each other the days following. The two of you couldn't be in the same room after that night. You weren't mad at Mingi anymore, but you didn't want to be anywhere near him because you were still so frustrated with him. That, and every time you were in a room with each other, the sexual tension shot through the roof.

Mingi was on the phone one night when you entered the living room wearing nothing but a robe. You just finished your shower, but you had yet to put clothes on because you needed to find your headband before you could start your night routine.

"Alright, sounds good," Mingi spoke quietly, his eyes tracking your every movement as you searched the living room.

He hung up and continued to watch you warily, his eyes locking on you every single time you bent over to search.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"My headband," you responded.

You started searching between the sofa cushions for the headband— the same sofa that Mingi was sitting on. Mingi refused to move as you continued to search, irritating you further. He was sitting right on one of the cracks. You stood in front of him and frowned at him when you realized that there was no way in hell he was going to move.

"Mingi, move," you tried ordering him even though you knew it was pointless.

Mingi's gaze hardened. You tried to move him yourself, but the second your limbs got close to him, he grabbed you and pinned you down to the couch.

"What the hell—"

"You're doing this intentionally, princess, and you know it," Mingi interrupted, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't. Don't fucking try me," he interrupted again, his face lowering towards yours.

You stopped breathing when you felt more of Mingi's body weight on you the closer he pressed himself to you. His knee pushed right between your legs, and his nose brushed against your jawline before he buried his face in the nook of your neck while inhaling deeply. Your entire body trembled when you felt his sensual breath on your neck.

"Mingi," you uttered when he let go of your arms so he could wrap his around you. "You better not be teasing me..."

"You think I would be teasing you right now?" he exhaled shakily.

"After what happened last time? Yes, I do."

Mingi stopped. He moved up and locked eyes with you, and you saw the deep, dark lust swirling in his eyes. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest when you saw the way he was looking at you. He wanted you the same way you wanted him, and there was no way he was going to push you away the same way he did last time.

Rather than continue in the living room, Mingi lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down in your bed and untied your robe, revealing your bare body. He once again buried his face in your neck, but this time he cupped your breasts, his large hand massaging your breasts as he left soft kisses all over your neck. You moaned slightly as held onto his shoulders tightly, your body beginning to writhe beneath him.

"Mingi," you whimpered in a hushed tone.

"Yes, princess?" Mingi murmured into your skin.

You didn't know what to say— part of you wanted to beg him for more, but he was barely doing anything, so you wanted to beg him to just fuck you already, but you knew that he wasn't going to just do as you asked so quickly. You settled for cupping his face and bringing him to meet your gaze briefly before locking lips gently with him.

He kissed you gently at first, meeting the same energy, but when you brought your knee up between his legs, his breathing hitched, and he kissed you a lot more forcefully. You moved your hands to the back of his neck and held on tightly as you found yourself getting swept away in Mingi's barrage of kisses.

As his lips ravished yours, Mingi's hand moved from your breast down between your legs. His fingernails scratched along your folds before he teased your cunt by barely sinking a singular finger into your cunt. You rolled your hips upwards the second you felt his fingers prod into you, making him withdraw his fingers— he was teasing you again. You whined and rolled your waist towards him impatiently.

"You're so impatient, princess," Mingi couldn't help but note with a slight snicker.

"How can I not be when this is all I've wanted for so long?" you huffed out.

Mingi's ears turned a light shade of pink briefly when he heard your words. Before you could say or do anything to poke fun at his random shyness, he thrust two of his fingers into your cunt. You gasped and held onto him even tighter when he moved his fingers in and out of you quickly, without remorse. His fingers were quite literally ruining you with the way he was curling them and ramming them deep inside you.

"F-Fuck, Mingi," you cried as you dug your nails into his skin. "S-Slow down!"

As if he was going to listen to you. Mingi added a third finger and continued with his rapid pace. You felt tension build inside you the rougher he got, and right when you felt like the tension was going to snap, he withdrew his fingers. Without missing a beat, Mingi lowered himself so that his face was between your legs. He kissed and sucked on your clit intensely before shoving his three fingers inside you again, overstimulating you completely. You cried loudly as you came, your cunt fluttering as you squirted.

Despite you cumming, the man kept going. He flicked his tongue rapidly against your clit and continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you pushed your head back into your bed and let yourself go completely. You came again, the force making not only your legs but your entire body tremble.

You were only seeing stars in your vision when Mingi finally stopped. You did your best to blink them away as you felt him move away from you. You were barely able to see clearly when he knelt before you and started stripping himself down. He took off his shirt to reveal his defined chest and the abs that you saw the very first time you met him. The wound that was on his waist had actually healed quite nicely, barely leaving a scar on his body. You couldn't help but reach for his waist and trail your finger along the area that he injured.

"W-What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.

"The wound..." you muttered.

Your eyes slowly moved from gazing at the faint injury to his face. His eyes were still intense, but there was a small smile on his face— a smile that quickly turned into a smirk. His hands reached for your waist, and before long, you were sitting up. He slid the open robe off your shoulders, leaving kisses along your newly exposed skin as he did so. He trailed the kisses from your shoulder down your arm until the robe was completely off you, and he took your fingers into his mouth as he threw the robe off the bed. Your limbs tingled when you felt him suck on your fingers, the pressure making you feel pleasure that you'd never felt before— which was crazy considering that all he was doing was merely sucking your fingers.

When Mingi took your fingers out of his mouth, he sat back on his heels and undid his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw him pull out the most massive cock you had ever seen. His cock was rock hard, throbbing and twitching with every breath he took. He quickly removed his pants entirely and tossed them aside before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his cock. His cock seemed even more massive in your hand, and you were so dumbstruck by it that the man had no choice but to guide your hand up and down his length.

"Don't be scared, princess," you heard him chuckle in a low tone. "I promise I won't hurt you."

As his hand continued to guide yours, his other hand reached for your neck and brought your face closer to his. He pressed his fingers into the sides of your neck gently and kissed you sloppily but passionately, his tongue infiltrating your mouth. You were on cloud nine with the way he was squeezing your neck just right and kissing you over and over again. Your brain was melting the longer he kissed you, and when he stopped, you nearly whimpered. You looked at him desperately, and when you saw the smirk reappear on his face, you knew that he was definitely not going to leave you disappointed.

Mingi laid down on the bed so that his back was pressed against the headboard. He moved you so that you were straddling him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. You felt him rubbing his cock along your ass, the sheer size of his cock making you more nervous with every passing second.

"Are, uh... Are you sure this is the best way to start?" you whispered, your nerves starting to make your body tense.

"Trust me, princess. I know what I'm doing," Mingi replied in a hushed tone, his lips near your ear as he leaned towards you.

The sound of his low voice in your ear made you shiver. Holding your waist, Mingi moved you up before taking his cock and lining it up with your entrance. As soon as you felt the tip of his cock press through your cunt, you exhaled through your teeth, only for that exhale to get cut off by a loud cry when Mingi pushed down on your waist.

"Mingi— Fuck! Y-You're too big!" you sobbed when you felt his cock fill you up to the point where you felt like he already hit your cervix.

"Just breathe, princess," he said calmly as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Relax for me, okay?"

You exhaled slowly, and your body relaxed slightly. You remained seated on Mingi's cock as your grip on his shoulders loosened, his cock throbbing inside you. Leaning towards you, Mingi peppered kisses along your neck and chest, his hands rubbing your waist, hips, and thighs.

"Good, princess... Now, start moving when you're ready, okay?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. Taking a slow breath, you slowly and barely started moving your waist up and down, the length and girth of his cock a little too much for you to handle on your own. You couldn't help but let out a little cry every time you moved, his cock somehow seeming to get bigger with every movement you made.

Mingi's hands moved to cup your ass, and he assisted you. He moved you on his cock, making you cry louder when you felt the impact of your ass on his thighs and his cock ramming deep inside you whenever he pushed you down with force. The more he had to move you, though, the more frustrated the man got. After making you ride his cock for another solid ten seconds or so, he suddenly flipped you so that your back was pressed against the mattress.

Without a moment to lose, Mingi lowered his body so that your breasts were barely grazing his chest as he rolled his waist into yours. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, your nails digging into the skin on his back as his thrusts got stronger. Your entire body lurched with every slam of his pelvis against yours, and you choked on sobs and whimpers whenever you felt his cock reach deep inside you.

As painful as it was, you didn't want him to stop for even a second because it also felt that fucking good. The way his cock would graze your cervix which each thrust made you more and more excited, and it made the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi hissed through grit teeth. "You're so fucking tight. You feel so— Fuck!— So fucking good... Your cunt was just made for me, wasn't it, princess?"

Tears blurred your eyes, and one slipped out when you shut your eyes tightly and cried loudly in agreement. You couldn't even bother trying to come up with coherent words as Mingi literally fucked all of the thoughts out of your brain with his intense thrusts. You didn't think they would remain as intense when he started moving faster, but you were sorely mistaken— Mingi was strong and powerful no matter what his pace was.

Mingi bit his lower lip as he moved up. He grasped and pulled on your breasts as his waist moved rapidly, the sounds of your skin making contact over and over again filling up the room along with the squeaks of your worn bedsprings and the two of you moaning and groaning. The room got hotter, and you felt Mingi's sweat start to dot your skin when he dropped his head to watch the way your cunt swallowed his fat dick.

Honestly, just the sight of your sore red pussy was enough to make the man cum, but he held back as long as he possibly could. It was when he suddenly rammed his cock as far deep inside you as he could did he hit your cervix and make you cream around his cock, subsequently making him cum because your cunt got so tight that he thought you were going to snap it off. He grabbed your waist and rammed his cock deep inside you one final time before groaning loudly and filling you up with his cum.

The two of you were panting heavily by the time your highs wore off. Mingi's cock was still throbbing inside you by the time you caught your breath and blinked the blurriness out of your eyes, only for that blurriness to return when you felt him start to pull out, the friction of his cock inside your cunt making you feel good all over again.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi winced then chuckled when he felt your cunt tighten up. "Do that again, and I'll be forced to fuck you all night."

You locked eyes with him when he said that, and you pulled him closer to you before he could pull out completely. You kissed him sensually and left a tiny bite on his lower lip, slightly startling the man before you whispered, "Fuck me all night, then. I want you to ruin me, Mingi."

Mingi kissed you again as he pushed his cock all the way inside you once more. He smirked against your lips in between kisses.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

The next day was extremely weird. When you woke up, Mingi wasn't in bed with you— sure, he didn't have to sleep in the same bed as you after the two of you slept together for the first time, but considering that the two of you stayed in your tiny apartment together, it was weird that he wasn't there next to you. That, however, was not the weirdest part of that morning.

You barely made it out of bed and stumbled into the living room to see that Mingi wasn't on the couch either. Actually, there was no trace of him living in your living room at all or in your entire apartment for that matter. Your jaw dropped as you realized that Mingi was not only not in the apartment, but he and the very little belongings he had completely vanished.

You searched your entire freaking apartment for any sign of him or at least a clue as to where he had gone, but there was nothing in sight. Mingi had disappeared as if he was never there in the first place, leaving you confused, angry, and sad.

Sure, he was a mafia boss, and he owed you no explanation, but how could he just leave you like that? Especially after the way the two of you spent the night prior, why did he just leave you like that?

In the days following, you tried to see if you could figure out where he had disappeared to, but you couldn't. There was no way you were going to be able to track down that man. Just as randomly as he entered your life, he left it as well, and you had to somehow make your peace with that.

Yet, you couldn't help but miss him. You couldn't help but miss the man that held the gun to your head and threatened to kill you, the man that spent so much fucking time with you over the past several weeks, the man you accidentally fell in love with. Fuck. How the hell were you going to make peace with that?

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[cevansbrat0007]

Forget-Me-Not

Summary: Ari forgets to do something important before leaving out the door...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Fluff, Implied Smut, Kisses, Chocolate Covered Strawberries, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You’re currently standing at the stove, slowly stirring a pot of freshly melted chocolate. For some reason, you’d awoken this morning with a craving for chocolate dipped strawberries. So, instead of paying an arm and a leg to buy them from some fancy shop, you’d simply decided to make your own. 

Humming under your breath, you’re surprised when you hear your front door open and shut. A quick glance at the clock suggests that it’s much too early for Ari to home for good just yet. More likely he’d probably forgotten something. 

Turning off the heat, you move to pour it into a bowl. Next up was your favorite part – turning your favorite fruit into a delicious confection. You run your finger along the spoon, wincing as the still-too-hot treat burns your skin.

But you don’t care. Not when it tastes so good. So good, that you can’t help the satisfied moan that escapes your throat. 

“Is it really that good, sweetheart?” 

“Mm.” You purr before helping yourself to another taste, this time using your tongue now that things have cooled a little more. “It really is.” 

Grinning, you take a moment to get a good look at your man. He’d been a man on a mission this morning, rushing out the door before you were barely awake and alert. And while you weren’t quite sure what business it was that had him moving so quickly, you were pretty certain that he’d tell you at dinner.

“You in the mood to share?” Ari rasps as he leans against the wall, looking exceptionally sexy in his dark blue Levi’s and black henley. You find yourself slightly disappointed that he’s not rocking one of his signature flannels. 

Mostly because you liked to steal them. But to be fair, your sweet Beast also never seemed to complain when he caught you wearing one. He mostly just sighed and grumbled about his diminishing wardrobe. 

Which was fine by you, considering the fact that he was the sole reason your entire panty drawer had been reduced to next to nothing. Those flannels were owed to you by right! 

“Just what are you doin’ back so early?” You ask, holding the spoon out to him. “I didn’t expect to see you until dinner.”

“Forgot to do somethin’.” He rasps as he moves towards you, his long, powerful legs bridging the distance between your bodies in mere seconds. “Somethin’ important.”

“Oh?” Guess you were right. The man had been moving so fast this morning that he’d likely left behind an important file or notepad. “I don’t recall seeing anything on the table, but–”

“That ain’t what I forgot, little Bird.”

Now he’s standing in front of you, his work boots almost brushing your bare toes. You’re caught off guard when Ari moves to tenderly cup his cheek, his roughened palm warming your delicate skin. 

“What…what did you forget?” Confused, you move to offer him the spoon in your hand, only to be surprised when he declines. You watch as his normally brilliant blue eyes darken as they stray to your waiting mouth. Your heart speeds up when his head descends, making his intentions all the more clear.

“Something much, much sweeter.”  

Squealing in surprise, you can’t help when your eyes flutter closed as his sinful lips capture your own. The kiss starts off soft and sweet, that is, until you feel Ari’s free hand make its way down your lower back so that he can grab a handful of your ass, pulling you closer to his big body.

You feel his tongue sweep against your bottom lip, encouraging you to open. To respond in the way you so desperately know he wants. Rising on your toes, you eagerly grant him access, wanting him to know that you were feeling just as hungry and wanting as he felt for you.

Feeling emboldened, Ari lifts you off your feet, prompting you to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly tugging at his already tousled locks. Meanwhile both of his impatient hands busy themselves with kneading and squeezing your curves as he rocks his hips against yours, letting you feel the weight of his already impressive erection.

It makes you want him here. Now. So you can't help but feel disappointed when he slowly eases away, leaving you wet and needy.

“Fuck." He promises now that he's finally allows you up for air. "Promise I won’t forget to do that again.”

“Uh huh.” You breathe, your legs wobbling slightly the moment he releases his hold, lightly setting you down. It doesn’t help when he leans in once again to gently brush his lips against your temple. And his satisfied grin has you giggling as your head falls to rest against his broad chest. 

“Tell me what I interrupted here, baby.”

“I was making chocolate covered strawberries.” Nuzzling your nose against the fabric of his shirt, you continue. “I woke up with a taste for them, so…” You offer up a small shrug. “I decided to make some.”

“Well, that’s funny. On account of I woke up with a taste for you.” You feel his big palm come to rest on your head, stroking a path along your silky curls. “And these are about to make the proceedings even better.” 

You can’t help but feel a little dizzy when he pulls away. His teasing words were filling you with all kinds of spicy ideas.

“I’ve gotta run.” Ari tells you. “I only came back to rectify my mistake. But I want you to save some of these for tonight…” He glances down at your now cold bowl of chocolate. “Because I have plans to enjoy my little Bird for dessert before I even think about dinner.”

Reaching around you, he snags a ripe berry and lifts it to your mouth. His eyes never leave yours as he watches you bite down on the plump fruit, its juice lightly dripping down your chin. Groaning low in his throat, Ari leans in once more, lapping up the sweet trail with his tongue. 

“And Bird?” He calls as he turns to walk away, confidently striding towards the front door.

“Y-yeah?” Dear God, this man was going to be the death of you.

“No panties, alright? I don’t want anything between me and my strawberry delight.”

Fucking Beast.

END

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[thefrogman]

Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would

not get very many notes.

At all.

I am not sure exactly why.

I think people hated pressing an extra thing.

But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.

But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.

When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."

That was a really good feeling.

I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.

So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.

Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.

But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."

This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.

I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).

It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".

Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.

I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.

While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)

The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.

Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?

KEEP READING

I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.

I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.

I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.

So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.

100% true ferret fact..

If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

bloody hands. l Joel Miller

Summary:  he didn't expect to find you in such a state

Warnings:  angst, but with a lot of sad moments, guns, knife and blood, two dead bodies, allusion to rape, nervous breakdown

A/N: I had a certain scene in mind and I really wanted to create something around it. something like this came out. scribbles. but I hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and once I wrote that, the thought grew in me to give these two something more... and now i'm unsure what to do with it next. help?

The sound of the shot echoed through the building and Joel felt a shiver run through his body. He sped up and quickly climbed the next stairs, then headed down the corridor where he could hear the sounds of scuffling and Ellie's screams. Fingers tightened around the handle of the rifle, he pushed the door with his shoe and for a moment he didn't know what was happening.

Ellie was sitting against the wall with terror in her eyes. The body of one of the men was lying on the floor, and the other...

"Shit!" Joel hissed, lowering the barrel of the rifle.

You were breathing heavily, trying to fill your lungs with oxygen. You were still holding the knife in your clenched, bloody hand, sitting astride the body of the other man. Thick blood flooded the floor beneath him, his clothes were soaked in it.

"Hey, it's me."

Terrified eyes found Joel's face, you tried to brush your hair away from your face, but you stained it even more with the man's blood. It seemed that you weren't hurt so Miller quickly looked towards the girl squeezed against the wall.

"Are you okay?"

Ellie nodded and stood up "Those pricks tried to..."

She didn't have to finish. Joel quickly noticed the mess your clothes were in, the unfastened belt buckle on your pants - he knew what could have happened and a shiver ran down his spine again.

"It's over." he choked out and held out his hand to help you up "Let's get out of here."

Despite the daze you were in, you stood up efficiently and quickly gathered your things. You all wanted to leave this cursed place as soon as possible and return to Jackson. A few days of travel separated you from your destination, but at that moment everything seemed to be even further away.

It was already getting dark outside when you managed to find an empty small house near a stream. Joel checked the place out before sinking into the dusty couch with relief. Every muscle in his body ached, and his stomach was increasingly demanding food.

Ellie's footsteps echoed silently across the floor as she visited empty rooms. Joel noticed you after a moment when you brought a bucket of water into the house.

"I want to wash this off myself." You said quietly, seeing his questioning look. Your hands and face were still smeared with dried blood.

"Do you need help? We will eat something soon." he said, but you just shook your head.

"I'm not hungry, thank you." and you quietly closed the bathroom door behind you.

This evening was different, he could clearly feel it. You joined them only after some time, still saying that you weren't hungry, you sat on the couch, pulling your legs up and wrapping yourself in an old blanket. There were no evening conversations between you and Ellie, although the girl tried to pull you in, you were strangely absent.

Joel saw it all, he knew you so well. You had walked together not only many miles, but also many dangerous situations. This time, however, everything was different, and that worried him.

He didn't know what had woken him up in the night and only after a short while did he realize that it was the splash of water and... crying. 

He looked around the dark room, Ellie was fast asleep on the couch, but your place was empty. Joel threw off the blanket and quietly made his way towards the bathroom, the door was ajar. 

The night was cloudless and the moonlight reflected off the once white tiles, dimly illuminating the interior. First he saw your clothes thrown somewhere on the floor, and after a moment...

"Sweet Jesus." he whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind him.

You were sitting naked in a bathtub half filled with water. The water was freezing cold, because Joel could clearly see how you were shaking, but it could also have been intensified by the crying.

"What are you doing here, sweetie?" he whispered, crouching by the edge and placing his hand on your back, "Fuck, you're so cold. Get out of here."

Your arms were wrapped around your knees, your damp hair was sticking to your face, and you were still sobbing quietly.

"I can't wash it off, Joel..." you groaned, your throat hurting so much that you could barely say the next words, "My hands... I can still see it..."

He took your icy hands in his warm ones, "They're clean, look. How long have you been sitting here? You shouldn't… Come on, I'll help you."

"But my hands..."

"Sweetie, everything's fine. You're fine. C'mon." He grabbed you carefully by the waist, noticing with despair how cold you were, you must have been sitting in the water for a long time.

He noticed an old towel on the floor and quickly wrapped it around you. Your body was shaking, but you didn't seem to feel it. All of this made Joel feel even more afraid for you. He didn't expect this, he didn't expect you to snap at such a moment. But maybe it awaits everyone sooner or later?

This was surprising to him. You were always tough, you didn't lose your cool quickly and Joel was sure that when you said "I've got your back." you always did it right. Now, however, he held in his arms such a fragile version of you that his heart broke with each of your quickened breaths.

This wasn't something you deserved, certainly not you. You grounded him, helped him not to go crazy. He probably never told you how important you were to him, how your presence soothed his heart and mind. How much he liked it when you fell asleep and your head fell lightly on his shoulder, how he felt more confident when you grabbed his hand. You always did it at the perfect moment, when fear began to take control of his body. Your fingers would intertwine tightly with his and then you would take control.

"You're shaking all over." he mumbled as he sat down on the floor with you, his hands rubbing your shoulders hard. "Why did you come here?"

Doe eyes found him, your eyelids were red from crying. "I couldn't sleep." you whispered. "I could still feel him on me. His breath, his hands, and then his blood... I was so scared."

"I know, I know..."

"I wasn't afraid for myself, but for Ellie." Joel swallowed hard. "I couldn't... She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have seen this."

Strong hands grabbed your face tenderly. "You saved her. You did what you had to."

"I slaughtered them like pigs, Joel..." you groaned, your voice breaking. "What kind of person am I? I'm no different from them. I didn't expect something like this to be inside me... I'm scared, Joel."

He knew exactly what you were talking about. It was something he had been pushing out of his head for years, and in the meantime you had cracked. You were made from different, better clay.

"Listen to me." he finally spoke, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks. "You're a good person, but sometimes you have to do bad things to save the ones you love, right? Don't blame yourself for this, you had no other choice. If it weren't for you, you'd both be dead by now." you closed your eyes as if his words were soothing you "We've been through so much together. I know what you're like, you're definitely not a bad person. You're good...and gentle...caring... and sensitive...understanding...patient..."

"Please..."

“I wish I could meet you in better times." he added quietly "I'd gladly take you to a cozy restaurant, or to the cinema to see some terrible movie."

You quietly burst out laughing, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He wasn't lying.

Joel had long imagined how it all could have looked if nothing bad had happened, if your paths had crossed at a different moment and time. These dreams, however, were pushed far to the fringes of his mind, because they gave him nothing more than a sense of injustice and helplessness.

"I can't imagine you in a place like that." You said quietly.

"I definitely wouldn't take a gun there, you know." He snorted, and you smiled. "But everything else... I think I could surprise you."

"You think so?" His hands slid down, one of them now lying loosely on your thigh, stroking it lightly, the other brushing wet strands of hair away from your face. "I think I like the idea. It seems so...safe."

"I'll do anything to keep you safe. You know that, right?"

You nodded. "I guess I should get dressed. If Ellie woke up and found us like this..."

"Right, right." You both stood up from the floor, and you reached for your clothes. "If you need help..."

"Thank you, Joel. You've done a lot already."

A weak smile appeared on your face, but he knew it was costing you a lot. So he left, letting you get dressed in peace.

A strange feeling filled his heart the moment he lay back down, in his already cold spot. He felt a small spark of happiness and hope when he held you in his arms, but at the same time anger and sadness that you could only dream of such nice moments together. The world had taken everything you could have had together, and you could only dream of it on the cold tiles of a dirty bathroom in a house in the middle of nowhere. It was so unfair.

Quiet footsteps announced that you had returned to the room, and after a moment you laid down next to Joel.

"Feeling better?" he asked in a whisper, you nodded "If you need anything..."

"Can you hug me? Just for a moment, please..."

It wasn't a request, just a plea. Joel mumbled a quiet "C'mere." and after a while he felt your body next to his. He clung to your back, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist. But your hand found his again, your fingers intertwined and you brought it closer to your face, kissing the top of it.

"Thank you, Joel. For everything." You whispered.

And he buried his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut. He kissed your head and deep in his heart he regretted that this was all he could give you. And you deserved so much more.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[official-cvntified-gay]

Flight Attendant: A Pilot's Special [Abby A. x Reader]

❥ Pilot!Abby Anderson x Flight Attendant!Reader

❥ note: ugh I'm a whore for captain abby, I wrote this after I read a captain abby oneshot in ao3.

The plane was getting prepped for another day in the sky. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a warm orange glow on the tarmac, and you could feel the buzz of excitement mingled with nervousness coursing through your veins. It was your first day as a flight attendant—something you had worked hard for—and you wanted everything to go perfectly.

Dressed in your crisp uniform, you made sure your hair was in place, your name tag shining proudly on your chest. You took a deep breath before stepping onto the plane, your heart thudding against your ribs as you imagined the hundreds of things that could go wrong.

"Relax, you've got this," you muttered under your breath, trying to psych yourself up.

“First day, huh?” A voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to see a woman standing tall with an air of authority, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her uniform neat and immaculate. Abby Anderson, the captain. Her reputation preceded her—known for being efficient, cold, and not exactly the warmest person on board. People whispered about her strict demeanor, her professionalism that sometimes felt intimidating.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, taken aback by her sudden presence.

“Captain Anderson,” she introduced herself, not offering a handshake. Her blue eyes bore into yours, unreadable, as she nodded. “I expect everything to run smoothly.”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied quickly, trying not to let her intimidating presence throw you off.

She gave you a curt nod before turning away. You could feel the weight of her authority, the way she commanded attention without even trying. As you went about your duties, you noticed how the other crew members seemed tense around her. She wasn’t mean, exactly—just...distant. Detached. Every movement was precise, every word clipped, like she was too busy to waste time on pleasantries.

But then, something strange happened.

Every so often, you caught her glancing your way. When she passed by, there was an almost imperceptible softening in her expression, a flicker of something warmer. You thought it was just your imagination, but then it happened again—and again.

It wasn’t until halfway through the flight that she approached you directly.

"You're doing well for your first day." Her voice was still professional, but there was a teasing edge to it now, a hint of something more.

"Thank you, Captain," you replied, trying to sound as professional as possible, but you could feel your cheeks heating under her gaze.

"Abby," she corrected, her tone softer. She took a step closer, and your breath caught in your throat. "No need for formalities when it's just the two of us."

"Abby," you repeated, the name feeling foreign on your tongue.

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “You look a little nervous, you know. Is it me? Because I swear I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Your eyes widened, heat rising in your cheeks. "W-what?"

Abby chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Relax. I’m just messing with you.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so only you could hear. “Or maybe I’m not.”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way her presence seemed to engulf you. Was this really happening? The stoic, cold Captain Anderson was flirting with you?

For the rest of the flight, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Abby’s eyes on you. Every time you passed her in the cockpit or while making rounds, her gaze lingered just a little too long, a teasing smile pulling at her lips.

By the end of the shift, you were a bundle of nerves and confusion. You were standing by the exit, helping passengers disembark when Abby approached you once again, standing a little too close.

“You did good today,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “I like a woman who can keep her cool under pressure.”

“I-I try,” you managed to stammer, your brain short-circuiting from her proximity.

"Mm, I noticed." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "You should let me take you out for a drink sometime. Help you unwind after a long day."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Was this a joke? Was she serious? But when you turned to meet her gaze, the playful glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I— uh— I don’t know—” you started, but Abby cut you off with a smirk.

“Think about it.” She winked, her voice dripping with confidence. “I’m a patient woman.”

She turned to leave, walking off with that same air of cool detachment she always had. But this time, there was a sway in her step that told you she knew exactly what effect she had on you.

For the next few weeks, Abby didn’t let up. Every time you were on the same flight, she found some excuse to be near you. She'd make a casual comment, brush past you just close enough to make your skin tingle, and offer you those teasing little smiles that left you breathless.

One day, you were struggling with a particularly heavy overhead bin when Abby appeared out of nowhere, easily pushing it into place with one hand.

“Need some help?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“I had it,” you muttered, embarrassed that she had caught you in such a moment of weakness.

“Of course you did.” She grinned, leaning in slightly. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your thoughts spinning. You couldn’t deny it any longer—Abby Anderson had a hold on you, and she knew it.

Every time she smiled at you, every time she teased you, you found yourself falling deeper. And Abby? She was relentless in her pursuit.

She was the Captain, after all—and she always got what she wanted.

And this time, what she wanted was you.

[silverskye13]

Angst prompt courtesy of: @theunderscorwolph

[Part 1 of 2]

Helsknight waited... Probably too long to check in on Tanguish. In his defense, the last time he spoke to Tanguish, he was heading to Hermitcraft, and while Hermitcraft was far from safe, it was, in its own ways, safer than hels. There were fewer people, fewer hazards in general, and there was Tango. Tango wasn't a fighter. As far as Helsknight could tell, he was mostly just squirrelly, and a bit cowardly. But he was fiercely loyal. That went a long way. He had even, misguidedly, attempted to save Tanguish from Helsknight once. Helsknight, who recognized he was a big, scary, angry-looking, armed and armored knight, could respect that. And Tango and Tanguish were friends, and they got wrapped up in each other sometimes, and this was far from the first time Tanguish was gone all day talking to his other half about some project.

It was, however, the first time he'd been gone for two days in a row.

Helsknight didn't really consider himself to be a worrier. Tanguish was an adult. He could take care of himself. And even if he couldn't take care of himself, Helsknight could recognize that everyone had some level of pride. Butting in on someone else's business uninvited was a great way to be a nuisance at best, and a problem at worst. So, Tanguish didn't come back by the evening? If there was a problem, Helsknight would respectfully let him handle it. Tanguish knew to come get him for help. And while Helsknight would feel truly guilty if his dithering caused Tanguish to respawn, he could take some solace in knowing he would wreak holy vengeance on whoever did it.

[That was one of the perks of being a knight: when you pointed at someone and said something along the lines of "Through hels or high water I will smite thee" or some such dramatic nonsense, people tended to get out of your way and let you get to business.]

Day two of no Tanguish, and Helsknight went from being passively concerned, to something closer to open nervousness. He asked, as subtly as he could, around the Colosseum if anyone had seen him. No one had, though Martyn did make a joke about Tanguish finally getting wise and finding a real knight to squire to.

[EB really needed to stop getting between them when Martyn said things like that. The power of a bloody nose on shitty humor was astounding.]

Eventually, Helsknight had given up and decided the best thing to do was go to Hermitcraft and track the little pest down himself. He suited up for what he thought might be a mild amount of trouble -- it was always possible he would run into Wels when he was on Hermitcraft, and if he planned on searching for someone, he wanted to minimize the time he was fighting his double. He donned his chainmail, and the netherite gauntlets and grieves. He made sure the clasps on his boots were pulled tight. He cinched on his netherite sword, and made sure it pulled easily from the sheath.

He picked up his cloak last, and gave it a contemplative frown. In hels, the cloak was a distinctive and somewhat necessary piece of costuming. It was the visual shorthand he needed to inform everyone that he was a knight, and therefore probably knew his way around a sword [and wasn't worth mugging]. For those who knew knights, it told them what Order he was a part of. Useful. On Hermitcraft, however... Being able to tell at a glance that he was a red-themed knight in dark armor, who looked suspiciously like but not quite enough like one of the other server members...

While Helsknight weighed the pros and cons of stealth and subtly, two things he was famously very bad at, the shield hanging on his wall shuddered and kicked, and someone tumbled out of the reflection with a shriek. Helsknight sighed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. He did a slow count to ten in his head, and tried not to be very, very annoyed he'd just spent twenty minutes putting on armor for no good gods-damned reason.

"Tanguish," Helsknight hummed, when he thought he could keep his voice relatively neutral, "for no reason in particular, I think we should make some ground rules about when you should check in with people--"

Helsknight turned, looked down, and anything else he was going to say vanished out of his head with such abruptness, it made his ears ring. Laying prone on the floor of Helsknight's cell, staring with wide, somewhat terrified eyes and the kind of grin that screamed about recently realized mistakes, was Tango. The Hermit blinked up at him. Helsknight blinked down at him. Somewhere down the hall, somebody laughed at something, which was their only indication that the whole world hadn't frozen with them when they made eye contact.

Helsknight could say, with honesty, he never expected to be put in a situation where a Hermit stumbled into hels, much less into his cell in the Colosseum, surrounded by all the biggest, scariest, most dangerous people in hels. At a complete loss on what to do, he fell back on what he thought was safest: namely, making sure no one got killed over it. Helsknight leaped over Tango -- who screeched ingloriously -- crossed to the door of his cell and slammed it shut. There was no lock -- he'd never needed one until now -- so he settled on turning his back to the door and bracing against it, content in the knowledge that, should someone come inside, he would be the first one to know.

It did not hearten him to see that Tango was still on his floor. He had apparently, when Helsknight stepped over him, curled up as small as he could, anticipating some kind of attack. He'd thrown his arms up over his face, and now peered at Helsknight through his fingers, humming tuneless, horrified syllables.

"Tangotek," Helsknight said, concentrating on keeping his voice very calm and very quiet, "you aren't welcome in my home."

"I didn't know I was going to end up here," Tango whispered back, his voice high and tense as a violin string.

"Go home."

Something flickered in Tango's eyes, something like determination. Helsknight hated that look.

"Uhm. N-no can do. Sorry."

"Can't." Helsknight said, barring his teeth at the Hermit. "Or won't."

Tango made a face at him, tight-lipped and tense. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Uhm. If. If I say won't, will you kill me?"

"Possibly."

"Then I can't. Definitely, definitely, physically can't." Tango looked around, scrambled to his feet, and dashed to Helsknight's bed. He, admirably, only winced a little when he set his spawn -- probably worried hels worked like the nether, and the bed would manage to explode somehow. With a bit more confidence this time, Tango stated again: "Can't."

"I can break that." Helsknight seethed quietly, and tried very hard not to grind his teeth. "It would piss me off. I like being able to sleep here. But I can break that, and send you back to Hermitcraft."

"But you don't want to do that," Tango said nervously. "Because-- uh-- you'd have to kill me, and Tanguish would be really, really upset about that."

"Tanguish isn't here. So either run home, or I will... escort you there." Helsknight put on his most wicked grin, and placed his hand on his sword meaningfully.

Tango staggered a step back away from Helsknight, somehow managing to go paler than he already was. The redstone freckles adorning his face sparked, and the flame of his hair took on a slightly green cast. The idiot Hermit was apparently made of very stern stuff, though, because he didn't flee for the nearest reflection. He took a few seconds to breathe. He had his own sword, a fact that Helsknight only noticed because his hand twitched towards the hilt uncertainly. Helsknight wasn't alarmed. Tango didn't move like someone who knew how to use a sword well, and he was fairly sure the Hermit's hands were shaking so much he would drop it if he tried to draw it.

Tango swallowed hard, darted a tongue across his lips, and asked with only a minimal tremor in his voice, "Uh, T-Tanguish isn't here? Like, not here here, or like... Not in hels, here?"

Helsknight narrowed his eyes. "Is he supposed to be?"

"He left my place yesterday, and said he would be back in a few hours," Tango explained quickly. "I thought-- like, you know, maybe he decided to wait until morning? But. He didn't come back. And I got worried. He. You know. He tells me if he can't make it. It's-- all it takes is a reflection to talk. You know? And I did look in my reflection, but I couldn't see anything, which normally means he's not by one. It was just dark."

Tango crossed his arms. It was a gesture that somehow made him look smaller.

"I thought-- I hoped-- you know. Hopping through the reflection. I could just check on him. Make sure he was okay. I think. I think maybe it just took me to his spawn point."

Tango thought that statement over, then flashed Helsknight an incredulous, almost horrified look, "Why is his spawn point your bed?"

"Tanguish was supposed to be with you," Helsknight frowned.

"You haven't seen him?"

"No." Helsknight rested his hand on his sword hilt, mostly just so he wouldn't fidget. "Could he have gone back to Hermitcraft and you just missed each other?"

"I checked," Tango said, shaking his head. "I have... X gave a few of us console access. I did a few scans... Is there. Anyone you know with that kind of access for hels?"

"Hels and Hermitcraft are different places." Helsknight wrinkled his nose. "Maybe Evil X?"

"Cool! We'll talk to him then!"

"Oh sure," Helsknight spat derisively, "I'll just go knock on the front door to Evil X's tower and ask politely for admin access, will I?"

Tango grimaced. "Will he not... Like that kind of thing?"

"Oh he'd just love it. One more thing to hold over my head." Helsknight snorted. "It wouldn't work anyway. I have a pact that says I can't directly oppose him. If he, for the gods know what reason, has Tanguish, and I knew--" Helsknight made a parrying motion with his hand. "It's better if I don't know. Keeps my hands from being tied."

"Huh," Tango leaned back against the wall, slightly more at ease. Helsknight wasn't sure if he liked the fact that the Hermit was getting comfortable. "I kind of figured you and X-- uh, Evil X, would be friends."

"Why in hels would we be friends?"

"Well, I'm friends with Wels. And. You know. X. I just kind of figured..."

Helsknight decided the best thing to do with this statement was ignore it.

"I will check the house," Helsknight said. "You go back to your server. When I find him, I'll tell you."

Tango shook his head vehemently. "No! Nuh-uh. This is my rescue mission."

"While I appreciate your tenacity," Helsknight bared his teeth at the Hermit, causing him to shrink back a step, "hels is for helsmets. You wouldn't last ten minutes here. And I'm not wasting time keeping you safe."

"You protect Tanguish just fine."

"Tanguish can outrun everything that chases, and out-clever anything else."

"And he came from me," Tango said, crossing his arms petulantly. "I'm plenty smart! And I can be speedy in a pinch!" He sniffed. "We'll just give your house a look-around, easy-peasy."

Helsknight made to argue, and then a thought occurred to him.

"This isn't my house."

Tango blinked. His eyes shifted around the small, relatively bare room. The single desk, shield mounted on the wall, and bed.

"Is it... An outpost or something? You put this up while you were exploring?"

"This is my Colosseum cell," Helsknight said. When Tango only stared at him blankly, "Surely Tanguish has told you about the Colosseum."

"I mean... He did."

"I have a room here. For when I don't want to walk across hels to sleep."

"There's a bunch of fighters out there."

"There is."

"Fighters who... Dislike... Hermits."

Helsknight snorted.

"W-well!!" Tango sputtered, noticeably more nervous, but doing his best to ignore it. "I'm! Still not leaving! So! We'll just have to be quick. And once we get outside--"

"We'll have to walk across hels. Hels, the city, is very big, and has a lot of people in it."

Tango put his face in his hands and let out a keening whine of dismay through his fingers. It was the kind of noise that suggested he didn't know how to growl in exasperation, so he howled instead. Helsknight, begrudgingly, admitted to himself he was being [a little] harsh. He decided, against his better judgement, to have a little mercy.

"You really want to find Tanguish."

"Yes! Yes I do!" Tango snapped, looking up at him beseechingly. "I mean, is it really that hard to believe you're not the only one who wants him to be safe?"

Helsknight's skepticism must've shown on his face, because Tango let out another of his exasperated, half-syllable noises and ran his hands back through his hair.

"Look, I promise I won't get in your way. And I'll go home the second we find him. I just... I'm worried."

Helsknight sighed and tried his best not to roll his eyes. He crossed the room to where he'd left his cloak, and motioned for Tango to join him. Hesitantly, nervously, Tango stood and waited as Helsknight flung the cloak over his shoulders. It would have been far too long, but he gathered some of the length to turn into a makeshift hood, bunching it awkwardly around Tango's shoulders. It took some folding and some pinning, but after a few minutes, Helsknight stepped back and nodded. It was passable anyway.

"Keep this on while we're in the Colosseum," Helsknight informed him, pulling the hood down low over Tango's face. "With any luck, people will assume you're Tanguish. Or at least that you're supposed to be with me."

"And, uh, if that doesn't work?" Tango asked, his voice pitching the barest bit higher in nervousness.

"We'll burn that bridge when we cross it," Helsknight snorted. He checked one last time to make sure his gear was all in place, and, squaring his shoulders, led the way out and into the cells.

Nobody noticed them leave the cells. Or, at the very least, nobody noticed who Tango was. A few people stopped Helsknight to try and talk, but when he made it clear he had places to be, they let him pass. Helsknight's patience was not a thing anyone wanted to shorten, even those few dangerous people who could probably weather the aftermath.

Soon enough they were walking down the streets of hels, Tango hovering so close to Helsknight's side they occasionally walked into each other. Helsknight wanted to be annoyed. He wanted to be even more annoyed by all of Tango's jabbering. The Hermit would make observations as they walked, pointing at buildings and asking questions that Helsknight rarely deigned to answer.

They weren't here to sight-see. They were here to find Tanguish. So when Tango asked him his twentieth question of the morning [You guys have a working water fountain? How do you have water in hels? Is it an update suppression thing, or does hels have different rules than a standard nether hub?] Helsknight scowled and started walking so quickly, Tango had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Panting, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other without tripping over cobblestones, he couldn't ask any more questions.

[Praise every god and saint in hels.]

Eventually they turned onto the street Helsknight's house was on, and immediately he knew something was wrong. Even from the end of the street, Helsknight could see the front door was open. A cold fist of dread clenched itself in his stomach, and Helsknight ran up the street, Tango protesting as he tried to keep pace.

The house had been ransacked. The door wasn't just open, it had been halfway knocked off its hinges, and the window at the front of the building had been smashed. He hadn't yet stepped inside, but from the red light streaming into the open doorway, Helsknight could see his little dining table and chairs had been knocked over. There was broken glass on the floor, and the pale gleam of metal -- Tanguish's dagger, dropped in a scuffle. There was no blood that Helsknight could see, but that was cold comfort.

"Oh... Shoot." Tango panted, standing beside him. "This is your house?"

Helsknight found himself swallowing past a growing lump in his throat. "Yes."

"Did you... Not go home yesterday?"

"No."

"Shoot." Tango said again, tugging on the edges of Helsknight's cloak nervously. "He left Hermitcraft in the afternoon. Would he-- would he have gone straight to the Colosseum if--"

"Probably."

"So. So this probably happened when he got here," Tango glanced up at Helsknight, gauging the knight's hesitation, and then picked his way cautiously to the door. "Does your house get broken into often?"

"If it did, there would be a lot fewer thieves in this city."

"I'll uh... Take that as a no." Tango stepped gingerly inside, the broken glass crunching beneath his boots. His tail, a liquid, fiery thing like his hair, swept around the floor, glinting off the glass shards like a field of sparks. He picked up Tanguish's knife and flipped it over in his hands, studying it before slipping it onto his belt. "No blood. Obvious signs of a struggle. I mean, he had to have been ambushed right? Otherwise he would've run for it. And they took him alive because, well, I mean, he would've just respawned right?"

The lump in Helsknight's throat got tighter. It was suddenly very hard to breathe.

"Right?" Tango prompted again.

"How much do you know about helsmets? How our respawns work?" Helsknight asked quietly.

"I know respawn is rough for you guys." Tango raised an eyebrow at him. "Or, I assume, I guess. Tanguish seems pretty scared of dying, anyway. And I know you take deaths in the Colosseum very seriously. A lot of warrior culture weirdness stuff."

Helsknight swallowed. The fear of speaking his thoughts out loud grabbed him by the throat and pinned him still. Adrenaline, cold and sourceless, sent ice through his veins. His fist clenched around the hilt of his sword, his instincts as a knight searching for a source for his alarm to fight and dispatch, even when his logical mind knew there was none.

[He didn't want to say it out loud.]

"Sometimes."

Helsknight cleared his throat uncomfortably. He didn't look at Tango. His eyes wandered around the broken glass at the Hermit's feet, watching the flame of his tail glint off the brittle, jagged edges.

"Sometimes."

He swallowed again. He adjusted the buckle on his gauntlet. It suddenly felt too loose around his wrist. He was too vulnerable to talk about this. He needed plate mail, or a helmet. Hels, he needed castle walls and a full garrison.

"Sometimes we... When the universe... We are. Uhm. We're different than--"

He could feel Tango's gaze heavy on him. His skin prickled with the weight of his stare and his own growing, frigid alarm. Something like panic, a rare and terrible beast, was crawling awake in Helsknight's stomach. It gnashed its teeth against his insides, and he felt the desire to laugh, or shout, or throw something, or maybe just throw up in general.

[Don't say it out loud.]

"Tango, sometimes we dont--"

"Well it's about gods-damned time!"

The amount of relief Helsknight felt at the sound of that hostile voice was profound and dissonant, and incredibly welcome. Mostly though, it was an excuse to focus all his pent up fear on something physical he could kill, and he praised every god and saint in hels as he turned to face the newcomers.

A group of four vaguely thug-like helsmets stood in the street less than twenty paces away from him. Helsknight's gaze swept across them, noting their mix-match of leather and gold armor. Two had swords -- gold and iron. One was twirling an axe in her hand in a flourish that was probably supposed to be threatening, but mostly just told Helsknight she'd been practicing axe-flourishes instead of axe-throws. The person who'd spoken, a rather weasely looking thug with a knife on his belt, grinned with glad maliciousness.

"We've been waiting for you to show up, tin can."

Helsknight didn't rise to the [insult?]. It wasn't worth his time. He cast a quick glance in Tango's direction, catching the fading flicker as the Hermit hid somewhere in the house. Good. Helsknight would prefer he not be under foot.

"Who are you?" Helsknight asked coolly, not really expecting a response. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand restlessly, itching to draw his blade. "And what have you done with Tanguish?"

"Come quietly and maybe we'll tell you," the ringleader said, motioning broadly with one hand for his thugs to fan out around him.

The three fighters moved to circle Helsknight, one stopping just in front of the ringleader, while the other two began stalking further up the street. Helsknight did the mental math of four against one, while he was surrounded, and decided he didn't like the odds.

Helsknight attacked before the first swordsman, the one with the golden sword, could pass him. He turned and drew his sword in the same motion, and the strength behind his cleaving overhead strike shattered the softer metal of their blade neatly. His second swing, lightning quick, took them in the throat. He pointed his bloodied sword at the second swordsman, who froze in shock, blade up in a shaking guard position, as they watched their ally fade into twitching death throws.

"Will you make me ask twice?" Helsknight hummed, his voice as level as the point of his sword.

The swordsman's eyes darted over his shoulder. Helsknight frowned, felt more than he heard the approach of something. He ducked and spun, sword arching over his head to catch a weapon strike that instinct told him was coming. There was the loud clash of metal on metal, and when Helsknight straightened, he found two more thugs had joined from... Somewhere. The roof perhaps. Helsknight backed up several steps, trying to keep the entire group in his sight line, and his back to his home. At least with his back to a wall, no one could get behind him. The four with weapons drawn advanced on him slowly, wary of his speed, and the efficiency of his strikes.

"Throw down your weapon, gladiator," the ringleader called to him. "If all you want is to see your friend again, we'll take you right to him." He flashed a wicked grin. "Though we might rough you up a little first."

At that, the axe-weilder leaped forward -- some uncanny sense of Helsknight's, honed for danger, demanded he duck as a whisper of noise hissed by his ear -- and she fell back shrieking, a bloody hole punched in her shoulder. It was only when the arrow cracked against a far wall that Helsknight realized she'd been shot at close range with a very high power bow. Tango leaned through the broken window, a terrified grin on his face, another arrow already knocked.

"Fight fair why don't ya!" He crowed and loosed his second shaft. This one grazed the thug closest to Helsknight, and he used the distraction to ram his sword through their chest.

What followed was a frenzy of breath and movement, seconds that ticked by as ages that he measured in the studied arc of his blade. One thug, then two, then three, scythed down like wheat in a field, crude skill and cruder weaponry breaking against his fortress of an onslaught. It was only when the last one fell that he realized the ringleader was making a run for it. Silent as a breath, Helsknight yanked his knife from his belt, aimed and threw. It hilted itself in the back of the ringleader's left knee, and he fell to the cobblestones howling.

"Holy-- nice shot!" Tango laughed, the high piping sound of the traumatized and terrified. "What are you--? Wait! Helsknight! Wait a tick--!"

Helsknight wasn't listening. He was angry, and the implication that Tanguish was captured somewhere goaded him on like a burning brand between his shoulder blades. There was a very mean little animal of panic in his chest again, warring with the adrenaline of the fight, and he thought, if he had the mind to, he might tear the ringleader in half with his bare hands.

[It would be easy. One hand on the back of the neck, one at the base of the spine. His boots were heavy, and if he planted a few strong kicks at the knuckles of a vertebrae he was pretty sure he could--]

It was a mountain of restraint that made him stoop instead to pick the ringleader up by the collar and slam him into the nearest wall. His head bounced against the bricks behind him and his breath whooshed out of his lungs, leaving him dazed and gasping while Helsknight leaned his full weight into him to pin him still. Not that he was going anywhere fast with a bad knee anyway.

"Talk," Helsknight growled, nearly nose to nose with the thug. "My friend. Where is he."

The thug whined, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted in pain. "I'm not-- I'm not telling you anything. Y-you're not that scary."

For a very brief moment, Helsknight was so angry he actually did see red. He pulled his gauntleted fist back, fully intent on putting a dent between the thugs eyes -- when Tango leaped up and grabbed his forearm in both hands, dragging it down again.

"Hey! Hermitcraft to Punchy McMurderface!" Tango shouted frantically, clinging to Helsknight's arm for dear life. "Don't do that!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Helsknight snarled, grinding his teeth.

"Because if he's concussed unconscious he can't answer your questions, skippy!" Tango snapped fearfully, flinching back as though he expected Helsknight to punch him instead.

Helsknight, who had been expecting a much more stupid excuse [Something like, "Oh no Helsknight, don't punch the bandit that's mean and icky!" maybe] was momentarily caught off guard by the logical answer. He stood there, glaring down at Tango, panting as the red tinge the world had taken on faded back a bit.

"I'm st-still not answering your stupid questions," the thug sputtered bravely. "If you th-think I'm going to betray my guild--"

Helsknight hissed a breath out through his teeth. He reached for his dagger at his hip-- and remembered he'd already thrown it.

"Besides!" The thug gasped fearfully, realizing, probably, what Helsknight was looking for. "Y-you're a knight right? You've gotta be! No run-of-the-mill gladiator swings a sword like that! Knights don't torture people! It's against your religion or some shit."

Helsknight, whose anger was boiling up his throat again, considered the implications of renouncing his knighthood for one afternoon. Less than an afternoon. Surely it wouldn't take more than an hour to break a few bones. His Saint could only damn him to a lesser ring of hell. Maybe if he explained it was for something very important when he went to confession--

Tango spoke first. "Yeah but, knights are the law, too, aren't they?"

The thug briefly stopped breathing.

"I mean, they're deputized, technically." Tango continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. Helsknight suspected it was so no one could see them shaking. "At least, that's how knights in my world work. And I haven't seen any cops around. So. He's the law right now. And I don't know a lot about hels law, but I know you cut people's hands off around here for stealing things."

Tango looked up at Helsknight. "What do you think, Killer? I mean, technically they stole a person, right?"

Helsknight, despite his current fury and desperation, and despite his fearsome reputation, and despite, even, his ugly thoughts of a few moments ago, was not a torturer. He had inflicted some terrible wounds on people before, some to the point of what he would call cruelty, but never had he drawn a weapon with the explicit aim of causing pain and suffering. It was a line he had never really dared to cross, barring a few very harrowing fights with Wels, when he had flirted with the idea of that danger and eventually stayed his hand. There were some things a man could not do without carving out pieces of his soul in the process, where the gap between thought and action was a chasm, and to cross it was to never return to safety again.

Helsknight searched the darkest parts of himself for the will to remove someone's hand to get information. He searched the darkest parts of himself for the will to torture someone to find out where Tanguish was. A very sick, cold, empty feeling opened up in the pit of Helsknight's stomach. When he looked to the thug again, he had scrubbed himself of anger, and adrenaline, and, he hoped, fear. His expression must have been truly grim, because he watched the thug's face pale fearfully, his pupils pinpricks in too-wide eyes.

Helsknight threw the thug to the ground, forcing Tango to stumble back a few steps to get out of the way. His boot came down on the thug's shoulder, pinning him against the cobblestones. Panicked hands scrabbled at his ankle, nails sliding off the metal of his grieve. Helsknight was reminded of a rat trying desperately to climb out of a well, drowning.

"Hold your arm out, and hold it still," Helsknight said, his voice deathly calm. He leaned more weight into his heel, eliciting a long whine of pain from his captive. "I would hate to miss your wrist, and take your arm off at the elbow instead."

The thug was clearly panicked. Helsknight honestly couldn't blame him. He was very close to panicking himself. He kept shoving his feelings down into that cold empty place in his stomach, and replacing them with the mask he wore when he played the villain in the Colosseum. He quietly, forcefully, informed himself that this was a role he was playing, and like every role, he would play it very well. And then the performance would be over, and he could feel feelings about it then. After the screaming had stopped, and the blood had dried.

Tango had turned his back to him, his hands clasped over his ears. He did not run away. He did not leave. It was a show of solidarity Helsknight neither wanted nor expected, but found himself grateful for anyway.

"Last chance," Helsknight said. He lifted his sword, ready to plunge it down into the outstretched arm. He thought, in the detached way of the horrified, that if he could catch the tip of his sword between the bones of the wrist, that might be the fastest way to... To...

The thug closed his eyes and turned his face away.

Helsknight let out a long, slow breath. He drove the sword down. The thug screamed. The blade cracked against the cobblestones.

There was no blood. There was no dismemberment. The thug had pulled his arm away at the last moment, and clung to Helsknight's boot with both hands, shrieking. Helsknight's ears were buzzing. He couldn't hear what the thug was saying. His heart was racing, and his mind was so terribly, terribly empty. He felt... Numb. It was very hard to keep his sword in his hands.

A hand tapped gently on his arm. Helsknight blinked down at Tango, feeling vaguely like someone was waking him from a nightmare.

"Let me go!" The thug was yelling, scrabbling with renewed vigor against Helsknight's boot. "I told you what you wanted! Let me go!"

"Did you... Catch all that?" Helsknight asked, trying desperately to pluck coherent thoughts from the droning emptiness in his head.

"Sure thing."

[Ah... Good.]

Tango kicked his boot against the thug's side, more a nudge than anything. "Alright. We're going to let you go. Tell your guild boss or whatever that we'll be outside his place tomorrow at noon. Be ready to negotiate or -- uh -- be ready to get dead, I guess."

It was not a threat that would go down in the annuls of history as a great villain monologue, but the thug, shaking and terrified and in pain, took it deadly serious. Helsknight released him, and he hobbled away down the road as fast as he could on a bad leg. They watched him in silence until he disappeared down a side alley, leaving them in an empty street scattered in left over items from the other fallen thugs.

"Tomorrow?" Helsknight asked, his voice sounding very far away in his own ears.

"Today," Tango answered. "Telling them tomorrow makes them think they have time to prepare, and if they're preparing, they're not, you know, hurting Tanguish."

"Ah."

"You alright?" Tango squinted up at him. "You look like you're in shock."

"Mh." Helsknight dropped his gaze to the ground. His dagger had been left behind. He took a step forward... and sank to the ground.

"Woah! Hey, hey! Easy big guy--"

Helsknight found himself on his hands and knees, shaking, smothering under the weight of guilt and his own potential for horror. His head was buzzing again, a nauseating sound like the static of the void. His eyes found his dagger again, and he lunged for it. Moving on something between impulse and habit, driven by guilt and self-disgust, he ripped the blade across his wrist, spilling blood across the ground. With shaking hands he grabbed up his sword and set the tip against the cobblestones, his forehead pressed against the hilt, eyes screwed shut.

"Saint of Blood and Steel," Helsknight breathed, with all the desperation of a sinner crawling to an altar, "forgive me for what I would have done." He pressed his forehead so hard against the cold netherite of the hilt, it hurt. "Please, please, forgive me for what I would have done."

His nose stung with the smell of blood and metal and salt and sealing wax. His mouth tasted like bile, and he could feel every fluttering heartbeat in the cut on his wrist. The buzzing in his head, slowly, slowly, alongside the speed of his racing heart, ebbed. The animal panic curled up in his chest and grumbled as it started to ease itself to sleep. He realized someone was rubbing circles into his back, and whispering at him, and tugging at his hands.

Tango was not trying to be reassuring. At least, he wasn't trying to be reassuring so that Helsknight would be calm. He muttered things under his breath like, "Okay, easy now, no big deal, it's fine," and "Let it go. Nice and easy. Good knight. Scary knight..." The circles he rubbed into Helsknight's back were shaky and awkward, and very clearly a distraction for his other hand, which worked on uncurling Helsknight's fingers from the knife. Helsknight, his exhausted wits finally returning, had mercy on him and released it. Tango snatched up the knife like it were a snake he feared would bite someone. He grimaced at the blood on the blade, and, not knowing what else to do, wiped it off on Helsknight's cloak, before shoving the knife beside Tanguish's in his belt.

"So, just for establishing the rest of this afternoon," Tango said, when he realized Helsknight had come crawling out of his stupor. "Should I be worried about you hurting yourself randomly? Like, does this happen on a regular basis? Do you have triggers I should be making safe words for or--?"

"No." Helsknight said, trying not to feel ridiculous.

"Right. So that was just a one time thing? Because if it's not a one time thing, I'm not judging or anything. But, like, I might recommend seeing a hels therapist or something."

"No I--" Helsknight had no desire to explain that he had a Saint, and that Saint had tenets he'd sworn to, and he had been preparing to go smashing through them like a sledgehammer, mostly because she didn't want to admit it to himself either. He didn't want to admit that he had been on the verge of turning his back on everything that made him himself, because he was desperate and scared, and he didn't want to admit that if he wasn't a knight, he had no idea what he even was at all. Instead he fell back on what the thug had said, because it wasn't wholly true, but it also wasn't a lie. "Knight. Torture. Against my religion. Or. Whatever."

Helsknight leaned on his sword like it was his last hope of salvation.

"Very, very against my religion."

"R-right." Tango put on a complicated expression. The kind of expression one gives when they're realize they're walking on a minefield. "But. You know. You didn't actually torture anyone. Right? So. God can't be mad. So you don't have to slash your wrists for god, right?"

"I would have." Helsknight's eyes found a chipped cobblestone. "If he hadn't moved... I... Would have."

That feeling of frigid dread spidered it's way down his ribs again to pool in his stomach.

"Well. But. But. You didn't." Tango swallowed audibly. "You didn't. And that's what god cares about, right? And, even if god does care, you were following the letter of the law. And if god cares about that too. Uh. God. God can. Take it up? With me."

Helsknight barked a half-hearted laugh. "You going to defend my honor from god, Hermit?"

"Yes," Tango said uncomfortably. "Because I was the one who told you to do it. So. Double damn both of us, right?"

They looked at each other. They looked away from each other.

"Tanguish is going to kill us when he finds out what we did to find him," Helsknight said.

"I won't tell if you don't."

They looked at each other. Tango offered a hand to help Helsknight stand. When Helsknight took it, they grabbed each other's forearms, and it felt uncannily like a pact, or a promise.

"I won't tell if you don't," Helsknight murmured.

Helsknight sheathed his sword, and ran a hand through his hair, trying, with some success, to pull himself back together.

"We should... Get moving." Tango observed, looking up the street.

"I didn't hear a word he said."

"I've got it all up here buddy," Tango said, tapping the side of his head and offering a half-smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. "So uh... You know anything about a Thief Guild?"

[hoonieyun]

bright red

bright red

pairing: lee heeseung x reader “y/n”

genre: angst into fluff 

warnings: mentions of drinking, heeseung is drunk lol, profanity but as always all my work is 18+

summary: ex!heeseung is too drunk to drive home so his friends ask you to come get him. too worried about his drunken state, you spend the night. 

notes: saw the photos/videos of heeseung getting really flushed at the prada after party and i just had to write something because it was so funnyyy also once again… not proofread heh

word count: 2801

you’re awoken by your phone ringing, rolling over in your bed to grab your phone and answer the call, you see jake’s contact appear. “hello?” you answer, voice a bit raspy. “heyy y/n! sorry i know it’s late but -” jake begins, “late? it’s 2am jake…” you interrupt. jake briefly chuckles before continuing.

“yeah haha, it is! look at you telling the time.” jake says, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. “jake, i’m hanging up.” you threaten and you hear him gasp. “okay okay! no don’t. um so… heeseung is drunk. like… really drunk. do you think you can get him?” jake asks with a pause in between each word in his question like he was cushioning the question. 

there’s a silence between the two of you on the phone. you were contemplating if this was a good idea. you and heeseung had broken up just 2 months ago and you hadn’t seen him since despite his endless attempts to call you or show up randomly unannounced at your front door. you never opened it, but you did watch him through your doorbell camera until he left. 

you sigh, “okay fine, text me the address.” you tell jake and you swore you could hear the rest of heeseung’s friends breathe a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “thank you y/n! you’re the best!” jake and all the guys thank you through the phone. 

you gather yourself a bit, tying your hair up out of your face as it had gotten messy from being asleep. you quickly grabbed a hoodie from the top of your hamper, slipped on some shoes, and made your way to the bar that heeseung and his friends were at. 

the streets were empty because of how late it was so it didn’t take long to get to the bar. before you knew it, you were pulling up to the curb of the bar, heeseung was knelt over the street as jay was rubbing his back. jake noticed your car pulling up and waved you over, a smile on his face as you arrived. 

“y/n! you actually came!” jake says. sunghoon nudges him in the arm with his elbow, “yeah…” you said just nodding your head. “what happened to him?” you asked, shaking your head. 

“well, you see heeseung joined us and said he wouldn’t drink at all tonight, fast forward like… 6 bottles. here we are.” jake explains, singing the last of his sentence while gesturing to heeseung like he was a prize you had just won. “plus, we would’ve taken him home but 4 bottles in all he could talk about was yo- ouch!” sunghoon nudges him again, this time a bit harder, interrupting want jake was saying. 

“what he MEANT to say was, all of us had a bit to drink and don’t think it’s responsible to drive. since we all live further away from heeseung, we thought we could ask you to take him home?” sunghoon explains and your eyes narrow at him. sunghoon and jake have a sheepish smile on their faces, hoping their explanation was enough to get by you. 

“why didn’t you just call him an uber?” you asks and before they could answer heeseung notices your attendance. “love?” he says, still knelt over on the floor. when you peek behind the two boys in front of you to look at heeseung his eyes go wide. he softly pushes jay away and runs towards you. stumbling a bit to get up, when he gets to you he softly grabs your face with both his hands, causing you to grab onto them. 

“are you real?” heeseung asks. “yeah… we should go.” you say, guiding him to your car. the guys rush over to help you, jake opening the passenger seat door so you could get heeseung in the car. “where are we going?” heeseung says in a whiny tone. “home.” you respond as you stretch over heeseung to buckle in his seatbelt. this was the closest in proximity the two of you had been in months. “you smell good.” heeseung says with a smile while staring at you. “and you smell like alcohol.” you say while shutting the door. 

“thanks guys, i’ll take him home.” you tell the three of them, bidding your goodbyes as they all make their way back inside the bar to grab their things. “hey y/n… thanks really. he hasn’t stopped talking about you all night. i know this is hard but… thanks.” jay says as you’re making your way to the driver’s seat. “goodnight jay.” you say before getting in. 

when you get into the driver’s seat, heeseung is staring at you. “when did you get here?” he says with a confused look on his face. “this isn’t my car” heeseung says with even more confusion. “yeah, it’s my car. jake called me to pick you up.” you explained while starting the car and beginning your drive to his apartment. “you’re the best girlfriend ever.” heeseung says before dozing off, not aware he had just called you girlfriend because of how drunk he is. “yeah…” you say quietly. 

the drive to heeseung’s apartment was a bit longer than the drive to the bar as he lived on the other side of town. you managed to get him out of your car and drag him up to his apartment. heeseung must’ve forgotten his keys with one of the guys but luckily when you two had broken up, he didn’t ask for his apartment key back. you fumbled with your keys as you tried to balance heeseung so he wouldn’t fall over, putting most of his weight on you. you eventually got the door open and the two of you stumbled in. his apartment hadn’t changed at all since the two of you broke up. 

you dropped heeseung on the couch with a thud, “ouch!” he said, finally waking up. you lock his door and look over to find him picking himself up and scratching his head. you softly apologize before going to his kitchen. when you return to the living room heeseung has already started changing out of his clothes, “here, drink some water while i grab you some clothes.” you hand him the glass and make your way to his room. upon entering his room, you were filled with a lot of memories. one being when you two had broken up, right in the middle of his room. you thought about how hard it must be for him to have to sleep in there every night until you realized his bed was bare. no blankets or pillows of any sort. not even the stuffed animal of the deer you had gotten him on valentine’s day earlier in the year. you grabbed some clean clothes from his closet and wet a towel from the bathroom. 

when you return to the living room, heeseung is spread out on his couch. shirt halfway unbuttoned hugging the deer plushie you were just thinking. you hadn’t realized that heeseung had turned his couch into his bed, further realizing that he had been sleeping out here to avoid being in his room. your heart suddenly ached at the idea, feeling bad that his room had now become a constant reminder of that night.

after you had freshened him up a bit and made sure he finished his water, you were planning to leave. you were wiping his face with the moist towel when heeseung grabbed your hand, “are you mad at me?” heeseung asks with big doe eyes. ones that you’ve stared into lovingly many times before. “i don't know what i am hee…” you say, dropping your hands and gaze to your lap. 

you both sit there in silence for a moment, unaware of what to do or who should say something next. “i should go.” you say as you stand up from the couch but heeseung catches your hand. “please… please stay.” heeseung pleads, looking up at you again with those big doe eyes. “i shouldn’t, that’s probably not a good idea.” you say, trying to reason with him but it felt more like you were trying to convince yourself. 

heeseung pulls you back to the couch but instead of landing back in your seat, you find yourself on his lap. he softly brushes loose strands of hair out of your face and once again, you’re caught in his gaze. “we shouldn’t do this.” again, trying to convince yourself that none of this was a good idea. “but why?” heeseung says, in a whiny tone; reminding you that he was still drunk. “because, we broke up 2 months ago.” explaining to him but heeseung seems to not care. “but i love you. and you love me!” heeseung says, pulling you closer, now into an embrace. you hadn’t felt his hug in so long and you hadn’t realized how much you missed it until you were in his arms again. 

when you bring your arms around his shoulders to hug him back, heeseung releases a sniffle, causing you to let go to look at him. “are you crying hee?” you ask while cupping his face. heeseung had tears welling in his eyes, he wipes them away but not before apologizing. “why are you apologizing?” you ask him. “i’m the reason we broke up. if i was just there for you more often and listened to you and cared more and hugged you more and kissed you more and-” heeseung had entered his infamous nonstop talking phase of when he was drunk. you were sure it was the same way when he was with the guys, especially with how they all said he couldn’t stop talking about you. the only way you could stop him from talking was a kiss, so that’s what you did. when your lips met his, heeseung’s eyes widened but shortly after he kissed you back. you melted under his touch and kiss that you had completely forgot moments ago you were trying to convince yourself that you needed to go home. when the two of you pulled away from the kiss, heeseung had a smile on his face. “stop smiling at me like that.” you say teasingly while pouting him. “sorry, i can’t help it. i’ve missed that for the last 2 months.” heeseung says.

“you don’t know how much i’ve missed you.” heeseung continues while pulling you into a hug once again. “trust me i know. you leave like 6 missed calls a day.” you say with a chuckle while trying to get up. “no. please don’t leave, please.” heeseung once again pleading as you free yourself from his grasp. “relax, i’m just getting up so we can move to your bed. we definitely aren’t sleeping on your couch.” you say while grabbing his pillow and the deer plush. “so you’re staying?” he asks softly. “do you want me to?” you retort but before you could even finish your response, heeseung springs up from the couch with the blanket, “yes!” he says while grabbing your hand and walking you to his bedroom. 

heeseung almost tackles you into his bed. the soft and bouncy comfort overtaking the two of you. when the two of you get into his bed, it’s just like old times. heeseung is the big spoon, his toned arms enveloping you while you hug the deer plush. “goodnight heeseung.” you say. there’s a moment of silence before heeseung says something. 

“i hope you know how sorry i am. nothing was as hard as being without you. waking up and knowing how much i hurt you was painful, but knowing that you were alone hurt even more. goodnight y/n, i love you.” heeseung says in a hushed tone, giving you a small kiss on the head before falling asleep. little did he know you were still awake, a small tear falling from your eyes before you too had fallen asleep. 

the next morning, when heeseung woken up with a yawn and a stretch, he was shocked to find himself in his bed as he had been sleeping on his couch for the last few months. he scrambled out of his bed and made his way into his kitchen where he found you. standing over the stove with chopsticks stirring something in a pot. “y/n?” he asks. “what are you doing here?” heeseung says as he makes his way over to you. “is that ramen?” he says, gaze switching from the pot of ramen on the stove to your eyes. 

“yeah, i know how much you love ramen after a night of drinking so i thought i’d make some for breakfast. i finished the last few packs you had, i hope that’s ok.” you say endearingly while looking up at him. “wait, did you take me home?” he asks, still confused on what you were doing in his apartment. not that he was complaining or anything, his memory of last night was just fuzzy. 

“yeah. jake called me, said you were too drunk to drive home…” you explained. “aaand, that you couldn’t stop talking about and asking for me.” you say teasingly and heeseung drops his head with a hand in his face. you softly grab his hand and move it away from his face, “but it’s ok. i guess it worked out.” you say with a smile, one that heeseung returns. 

you spend the next hour or so helping heeseung remember the events that transpired the night before while you both enjoyed the ramen. you could tell heeseung was extra hungry, he was always like that after drinking, so you let him eat most of it; but heeseung made sure to always put noodles in your bowl when he grabbed more for himself. 

once the two of you had finished eating, you sat in silence. unsure of what to say. “look, y/n i’m so sorry for everything. i know the breakup hasn’t been the easiest for either of us but i just miss you so much. i never stopped thinking about you and knowing how much i hurt you and not being able to fix it was so hard for me. please let me make this right.” heeseung says, now kneeled in front of you, holding your hands. you cup his cheeks that are a bit puffy from the drinking and ramen, “i forgive you hee” you say but heeseung doesn’t process it. “i promise i’ll do better, i’ll never forgive myself if i ever-” heeseung pauses halfway through his sentence. “wait… you forgive me?” he asks unsure of what he heard prior. 

“yeah… unless you don’t want me to?” you say teasingly and heeseung jumps up in joy. “no! i mean yes! i mean what, yes please forgive me. i love you” heeseung says while bringing you into a hug, causing you to laugh at his reaction. 

“but we have to take it slow. i don’t want to rush back into things, we still have a lot to talk about and work through before we act like everything is back to the way it was.” you explain to heeseung as he takes the seat next to you. “i don’t want it to go back to how it was, i want it to be better. and it will be better. trust me.” he says while leaving a kiss on your knuckles. 

“are you going to finish that?” heeseung asks while pointing at the ramen in your bowl you hadn’t finished. you roll your eyes and laugh at him before sliding the bowl over to him. “you know if you weren’t so cute when you’re drunk, this would’ve never happened.” you say to him while he scarfed down the last of the ramen. “pfft, i wasn’t THAT drunk.” heeseung says trying to defend himself. 

“baby, your ears were so red you could practically put rudolph out of a job for the holidays.” you say to him with a hand on his thigh. heeseung briefly chokes on the noodles before the two of you laugh. heeseung looks at you with a smile, “what?” you ask. “nothing… you called me baby…” heeseung says, teasing you, smiling even bigger than before; causing you to roll your eyes. “go wash the dishes before i change my mind.” you say, now teasing him. heeseung immediately gets up, grabbing the dishes, and going to the sink. 

“yes maam! i do whatever a bad bitch tells me!” he says while standing up straight with a salut. you two spend the rest of the day in each other's arms. when you both announce that you’re back together to your friends, jake, jay, and sunghoon respond by jokingly taking the credit because if it weren’t for them you guys wouldn't have gotten back together. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[skyahri]

Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake

Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.

He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.

When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.

He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.

However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.

It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.

He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.

When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)

People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.

You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.

"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."

"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."

Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.

"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."

They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.

"Wait, WHAT?"

Naruto Uzumaki

"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"

Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.

Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?

Turns out, that damn fox was right.

After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.

You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.

You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.

"You're pregnant."

Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.

"I'm pregnant."

Shikamaru Nara

He really should've seen this coming.

Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.

Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.

He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.

"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."

It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.

But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.

He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.

This was fine.

Not troublesome in the least.

"No, this is... good."

Kakashi Hatake

He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.

He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.

"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"

He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."

You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.

You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.

"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."

"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."

"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."

He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.

He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.

He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.

But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.

He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."

"Seemed more like panicking to me."

"... shut up."

[anomaly-hivemind]

We’ll meet again || Double penetration in one hole and public w/ Bill cipher x fem reader

Word Count: 1993

Masterlist

Tag: Double penetration in one hole, vaginal sex, Exhibitionism, public, Overstimulation, dubcon

Note: The reader is slightly black-coded. Nickname is Dimples or honey lips

You got a full time job at this mystery shack in the middle of the forest. You had been working there for maybe a total of three months with little to no issues, until it became the start of the summer. Then came two young kids and all the oddities that seem to have started when they got there. Staying with their Grunkle which was also your boss, you got to know everyone well.

“Hey Y/N do you mind watching over the shack for me for a few hours, I’m taking Mable and Dipper out for a bit” Stan said while already basically out the door so you just nod. It was a long slow hour of nothingness, maybe an old lady or two but nothing interesting to make you pay attention to anything.

“So one save me from this boredom,” You groan and rub your forehead. You could only play with pens and paper clips for so long. You heard a ring and turned to face the door, but there wasn’t anyone around as far as you could tell.

“I’ve only seen you around recently how fun” A voice behind you makes you turn to it with wide eyes and you lean against the register. A guy who didn't really seem all there was standing behind the counter with you. ‘Where did this bum come from, how the fuck did he get behind you in th first place.’ You thought with a panic as you looked at the unnatural yellow glow in his eyes and felt like he was peering into your soul nonconsensually might you add.

“Sir you can’t be behind the counter” You try to keep a kind voice in hope to not upset the potential crackhead that had wandered into the mystery slack.

“BuUt I came to answer your pleas of boredom dimples. definitely not to find something of importance. ” He spoke dramatically before mumbling something under his breath.

“My what now.. Sir please just set back into being in front of the counter.” Instead of doing what you asked, he took a step closer and unfortunately for you that ass of yours was not moving any closer to the register than you already were.

He moved his arms on both sides of you and smiled an uncanny smile that made you shiver. Next thing you know you are moving onto the counter to escape his attempt to trap you. Like hell were you gonna get murdered by some random probably drunk stranger for drug money. You liked it here but not enough to get yourself killed and mutilated for it.

“That tremble of yours is pretty cute Honey lips, filling my head with all kinds of things.” you make a run to the door but before you could open it the yellow eyed guy stood in front of the door blocking the fastest exit out.

The room felt cold and shaped all of sudden and you felt like you were a deer in headlights. You couldn't move anything but move your head which is what tipped you off that this was no normal paralysis.

“What the hell did you do to me!” You yelled at him in a concerned voice. The guy uses your stuck body to lean against your shoulder.

“You have a pleasing meatsuit Dimples.” he whispered in your ear.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?!” your voice got shaky as you tried to keep the confidence you definitely didn’t have right now.

“Name’s Bill! But you can call me your new lord and master for all of eternity!” The guy’s body drops to the ground in front of you and out comes a bright yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat pops up in his place floating around. “Oh so i’m tripping balls right now, inhaling the wrong type of air that's what going on right now.”

“I am very real despite what that simple brain of yours thinks.” he rolls his eye at you as he flies around you in a close circle.

“You are nuts.” you shake your head, who would have thought that your mundane need to cure your boredom would lead to… well whatever this was right now.

“Well it's not my fault your corrupt mind brought my attention, so what was it you wanted Dimples.” you don't answer so he speaks again.

“Entertainment was it, well honey lips consider me willing to entertain…But in exchange you gotta entertain me.”

“How would i do that” you felt dumb even entertaining this Dorito thing.

“How ‘bout I reverse the functions of every hole on your face.” his eyes smiled or so that's what you think his face was doin at least.

“How about no.”

“No fun boo, mhm how about something we both can enjoy” He had his hand in front of his face where his chin would have had if he wasn’t, well if he wasn’t a triangle.

“Like what?”

“You'll just have to take the chance and Trust me.” There was a slight giggled that came from his lip face. his hand lit up in a blue fire and you realized you could move again.

“But why are you doing this?” you tried to ask but he only gives you a cryptic answer.

“Boredom is my worst enemy, so I'm here to save you,” he said loudly.

You were definitely going to regret this lapse in judgment you were about to have. You raised your hand and shook the demon's hand with great hesitation. ‘Was I fucking stupid, i gotta be brain dead to shake the hand of a demon who gave me vague information of his probably dangerous arrangement i agreed to already. Sign my life way I guess.’

He snapped his fingers and your clothes were gone, you let out a shrill as you covered the important bits the best you could.

“No amount of gold on earth can buy originality…but you're come close enough.” Move your arms away.

You felt very exposed, you were naked in your work space in front of this triangle being of unknown origins. You were in the middle of the room and anybody could come inside the place, hell Stan and the kids could come back at any time then next thing you know it you’re a register offender. You could only hope that what this chip shaped man demon thing had in planned for you wouldn’t last that long.

In a flash Bill grows a body and keeps his triangle head that has changed into a pyramid. He was also equally as naked as you are, Plus he looked Hot to add to it. You look him up and down but your eyes get stuck on a thing well two things actually. Two dark cocks that were long and thick at his base, erect and twitching. You were staring at them and you were drooling a bit. It was embarrassing.

“This form pique your interest?” He stroked himself slowly as if he was giving a show for you. You don’t catch yourself nodding to his question and before you know it he is up against you, dick touching you everytime he curves it in a stroke. He moved you closer to the counter, your bare ass touching the desk.

“Let's get started, Honey lips.” he rubbed the tips over your fold and let out a funny happy sounding noise.

“So wet already~ who would have thought you could be so needy and wanting.” he pushed one of his veiny cocks into you, all the way to in until kissed it on your cervix. You let out a loud squeal like moan as you arched your back. There was no way you were going to cum, not from him just sliding into you…right.

“Feel free to cum at any time, I'm super giving Dimples.” he started to move his hips, your pussy regards no shame as it makes wet squelches as he tickles your g-spot. Your hole sucking in him it's making you feel like a slut.

“Fuckin… Ah~” you feel your legs start to shake from his mean pace inside of you. Bill starts to push his other cockhead and you clench around them. You cum around them as soon as he pushes the other one all the way inside as well. Stretching you out like never before, it felt like you were touching stars.

You have no time to recover from his movement because he doesn't stop, letting out a groan and mumbling to himself about how snug your pussy felt around him. Your ears burn as he teases you for cumming so fast and mentioning how he was just getting started with you. He starts to push almost all the way out before ramming back into out then repeating. Your eyes start to water as you reach another climax right after the other.

“You are mighty easy to please Honey lips.” he groaned and pushed you over on the counter, you were now laying back on the cold desk in a daze as he held your legs up at his waist. Your walls flutter around the girth of the two dicks of his inside of you.

“I can’t take it!” you whine as you feel an orgasm number who knows you're not keeping track start to approach you.

“Limits only exist in the mind.” Bill rolled his hips at an odd angle that it was almost like his dicks were moving at different times. He gives a squeeze to your breast and you shiver.

He kept moving his hips in this devious way that was starting to make you spasm and moan. Bill moved his hand down your body and he started to play and tease your clit, the whole action makes you choke out a cry as you feel a pool of wet hit yours and his thighs. ‘Did I just?!’

“YOU DID?” He answers your thoughts with an overly happy tone that was embarrassing. He kept thrusting his hips into you and circling your clit and you impulse your legs shut. You didn't think you could cum anymore but this DEMON has proved that to not be true in the slightless.

“Can you try not to lose consciousness, it won't make me stop.” He spoke through breathy groans. Bill’s words make you clench around you again, you could see the specks of darkness forming in your vision but you try to shake them off.

He slammed his hips into you at a breathtaking pace, his was slower and harder and it literally took your breath out of your lungs with each thrust. You could feel him twitching in you, a dead give away that he was close to coming. His pace brought you back to another painful yet pleasuring orgasm, his hand went back to your clit to run a slow tight pattern on you.

His hips sputter and he comes in heavy thick ropes of cum, filling you up like a pie. Pools of his seed dripped out of you when he pulled out of you a bit too fast for comfort. You let out a quick whine.

“Your a fun time Dimples, really know how to keep up with me.” he changed back to his triangle form. You try to get up but the sudden movements make your ears ring and thighs send you any single they can. You look up at Dorito demon as he watches you struggle a bit.

“We’ll meet again, Honey lips.” his eye curls as his way of a smile, then he poofed out of nowhere.

Now you need to get some clothes before anyone sees you like this…And to wipe the cameras.

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (four)

requested here; (one); (two); three

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired) word count: 5k

Why did it feel like his stomach dropped out his ass when Nate showed up? 

It wasn’t like he actually expected you to choose him over Nate. The guy was practically perfect—your textbook version of what a guy should be. Clean, nice, predictable. The opposite of him.

But watching you hesitate like you were weighing your options right in front of him? That hurt like a bitch and he hated how much it did.

He couldn’t shake that look in your eyes.

Like you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. While every time you were around, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It’d been like that since the beginning, even back at that party when you tossed your drink in his face after he called you that stupid fucking name. He could still remember the way you glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. He’d been a cocky little shit, sure, but that fire in you? It hooked him.

Yeah, he liked messing with you. Always had. But lately, it didn’t feel like just messing around anymore. It felt different. It felt like he was doing it because he didn’t know how else to get close to you.

And now Nate was here, acting like he had some claim. Offering you lunch like it was some kind of test. Rafe should’ve laughed it off. Should’ve let you go. But instead, he was standing there, watching the whole thing go down, and all he wanted to do was grab you by the hand and pull you out of there. Away from Nate. 

Away from all this... bullshit. There he was, full-on spiraling because of a girl. Because of you.

He knew he was developing feelings, had been knowing, which terrified him because it was unfamiliar territory—he was used to being in control and suppressing emotions, not feeling vulnerable or emotionally attached.

Because maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be the guy you rolled your eyes at anymore. Maybe he was done playing the part of the asshole who didn’t give a fuck. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafe walked faster, trying to shake off the feeling. But he knew. It was the way you laughed when you were around him, even when you were annoyed. The way you always gave as good as you got. The way you’d looked at him today—like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune to him as you tried to be.

You were off having lunch with Nate.

The safe choice. And if there was one thing Rafe Cameron wasn’t? It was safe. And maybe, deep down, he hoped that was the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk away from him for good.

He kept walking, his footsteps loud in his head, like each step was trying to drown out the voice that was screaming at him to turn around. To go back and say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that guy. Not the one to chase after someone, to make a big scene. No, he was the one who sat back, arms crossed, and watched the whole thing play out like it didn’t bother him. Like it wasn’t tearing him up inside.

Rafe realized he was pissed. Not at Nate. The guy was just playing his part. But at you. No, not really at you either. He was pissed at himself. For letting things get this complicated. For letting you get under his skin the way you had.

It wasn’t like you were his. It wasn’t like he had any right to be jealous.

But damn, the way Nate had just swooped in like it was nothing, like it was so obvious you’d say yes to him. The dude barely had to try, and there you were, actually considering it. Maybe you even wanted him to. He stopped walking, running a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. 

Screw this. He needed to get out of here, away from the whole situation. Maybe blow off some steam, hit the gym, or go for a drive. But the thought of you sitting there with Nate, laughing, maybe even flirting—it was enough to make his jaw clench.

What if you were actually into that guy? What if all this back-and-forth with him was just... nothing to you? Some game you were playing because you liked the attention, but when it came down to it, you’d always pick someone like Nate?

If you picked Nate, fine. But if there was even a part of you that was feeling the same thing he was—if there was even a chance you weren’t as over him as you pretended to be? He wasn’t going to let you walk away that easily.

Not without a fight.

Rafe dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a second. He could text you. Could hit you with some sarcastic line, ask how lunch with Captain America was going, but it felt... small. Petty. And, honestly, he didn’t want to come off as that guy—the jealous, insecure type. But not doing anything felt worse, like he was just letting things slip through his fingers.

He leaned against a nearby fence, staring off into the distance. Part of him was waiting for some kind of sign. Like maybe you’d ditch Nate and text him instead. Maybe you’d realize that this whole thing with Nate was boring, that you needed something more. 

Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d laugh and smile at Nate’s predictable jokes, and that’d be it. You’d pick the guy, the one your friends would probably approve of. The one who didn’t make you feel like you were on a rollercoaster every time you were around him.

Rafe kicked the fence post. He hated this. Hated feeling out of control, like someone else was calling the shots. Like you were making choices that didn’t involve him.

And yet, there he was. Waiting.

He was about two seconds away from hurling his phone into the bushes when it buzzed in his hand. His heart actually stopped for a second. No way. There was no way.

He glanced at the screen, and there it was—your name, lighting up his phone.

Every instinct told him to play it cool. Let it ring a few times, don’t seem desperate. But his hand moved on its own, thumb swiping across the screen before he could stop it. He brought the phone up to his ear, heart hammering in his chest, trying to sound normal.

“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t dying inside.

And just like that, everything else—Nate, the frustration, the whole stupid back-and-forth—faded into the background. Because right now, you were calling him.

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

Lunch with Nate was proving to be exactly what you expected: normal. easy. boring.

He talked about his classes, his weekend plans, asked you a couple of questions about your own. And you answered, smiling, nodding, doing all the things you were supposed to do. But your mind? It was somewhere else entirely.

It was with Rafe. With the way he looked at you before he left, like he was daring you to stop him. Like maybe he wanted you to say something, anything, to keep him from walking out. And as much as you tried to ignore it, that little flutter in your chest hadn’t gone away.

“So, how’s studying going?” Nate asked, pulling you back to the conversation.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s fine. Just... a lot,” you mumbled, forcing a smile.

Nate raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the fact that you weren’t all there. “You sure? You seem a little distracted.”

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe. To the way he’d been so close to you during your study session, leaning in like he had every intention of pushing your buttons. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he’d talked about the bonfire, about seeing you as more than just someone to mess with. And for the first time, it felt like maybe Rafe wasn’t just a flirt. Maybe he was actually trying to tell you something.

“I’m fine,” you lied, stabbing at your sandwich with way too much enthusiasm.

But you weren’t fine. Not even close.

You knew why. Sitting here with Nate, everything felt... off. It was like you were trying to make this picture-perfect version of your life fit, but the edges weren’t lining up. You were supposed to want this—supposed to be happy that the guy you’d been into for months was finally showing interest. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About the way your heart had sped up when he looked at you, the way his voice dropped when he was being serious, when he wasn’t hiding behind that smirk.

God, why couldn’t you stop thinking about him?

Nate cleared his throat, snapping you out of it again. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You bit your lip, nodding, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. “Yeah. Just... got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Like how you might’ve just let Rafe walk away.

Nate didn’t push it, and part of you was relieved. The other part? It was screaming at you to stop pretending. To be honest, at least with yourself. Because the truth was, as much as you wanted to want Nate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Rafe was the one you should’ve been sitting with right now.

And that scared you. Because choosing Rafe meant choosing chaos. It meant diving headfirst into something that had no guarantees, something that could blow up in your face. But it also meant feeling alive. Because with him, everything was more intense. More real.

As you and Nate left the sandwich shop, walking back to campus, you couldn’t help but glance around, half-expecting to see Rafe somewhere. But he wasn’t there. He was gone, and now you were stuck wondering if maybe you’d just made a huge mistake.

Nate smiled, oblivious to the storm inside your head. “So, you wanna do this again sometime?”

Your heart sank a little at the question. Because the answer should’ve been a yes, no hesitation. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About how you wished you were with him, laughing, arguing, feeling that electric tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever he was around.

You swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

But as the words left your mouth, you knew you were lying.

And Nate, being Nate, didn’t seem to notice. He was still smiling, probably thinking the lunch went fine, like everything was falling into place just the way he thought it should. But you? Your mind was miles away, stuck on other guy and the way he’d left without looking back.

You felt like you should say something to him, like you should be more present in the moment, but every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out. 

Did you really want Nate? Or had you just been chasing the idea of him this whole time because it was easy, because it was safe? Because he was the kind of guy you grew up thinking you should be with?

But then there was Rafe. And the more you tried to push him out of your head, the more he stayed there, taking up space, making everything with Nate feel... dull in comparison.

“So, I was thinking,” Nate said, breaking the silence, “Maybe we could check out that movie this weekend? You know, the one you mentioned a while back?”

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.”

But the truth was, you didn’t care about the movie. You didn’t care about any of it right now.

“Hey, you okay?” Nate’s voice snapped you back again, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You plastered on a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just... distracted, I guess.”

 “Well, if you’re busy this weekend, we can always reschedule.”

“I’ll let you know,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t push it any further.

Nate nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. And honestly?

Neither were you.

By the time you made it back to your dorm, you were mentally exhausted. Nate had left with a casual wave and a promise to text you later, but as soon as he was out of sight, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone like a fucking idiot. But no messages came in, no missed calls from Rafe or anyone else. It was just you, sitting there, replaying the whole afternoon in your head.

Why did everything feel so wrong with Nate? He was supposed to be the plan. He was supposed to be your choice. The easy, right choice.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumped in your chest as you glanced down, half-expecting it to be Rafe. But it wasn’t. It was Nate, sending a follow-up text about the weekend plans.

You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.

What were you doing? Why were you still holding onto this idea of Nate when your heart was clearly somewhere else? Somewhere messy, complicated, and... dangerous.

Before you could stop yourself, you closed out of Nate’s message and opened Rafe’s contact. Your thumb hovered over his name for a second before you hit "Call."

The phone rang once. Twice. Your heart pounded in your chest as the seconds dragged on. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just hang up before he—

“Yeah?” Rafe’s voice came through the line, a little gruff but unmistakable.

You froze for a second, suddenly unsure of what to say. But then you took a deep breath. “Hey, uh... you busy?”

There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “What, finally realizing Nate’s not as fun as you thought?”

 “Something like that.”

There was a beat of silence, and you thought maybe he was going to tease you some more. But then his voice softened, just like it had earlier. “You wanna meet up?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Another pause, and then: “Same spot?”

You knew exactly what he meant. The library, third floor, in the corner where you’d been studying. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“See you in a few.”

And just like that, the line went dead. What had you just done? 

You hung up, heart racing like you’d just agreed to do something you weren’t supposed to. But wasn’t that the whole point? This thing with Rafe—it was unpredictable, messy, and completely off-script. 

As you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door, you couldn't help but feel like you were crossing some kind of line. With Nate, things were clear-cut, easy. But with Rafe? It was like stepping into the unknown. You knew there was a chance this whole thing could blow up in your face, but for once, you didn’t care.

You wanted real. You wanted fire. And right now, that was Rafe.

As you walked to the library, the campus around you blurred, your thoughts spinning back to every moment you’d had with him. Every teasing comment, every cocky grin, every time he’d gotten under your skin without even trying. Maybe you had been pretending with Nate—pretending to want something you were never actually sure about.

But with Rafe? You weren’t pretending. Even when it terrified you.

When you reached the third floor of the library, it was quiet, almost too quiet. Your footsteps echoed as you made your way to the spot you both knew so well. And there he was, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he wasn’t the reason you’d been tied up in knots all day.

You rolled your eyes and crossed the room, dropping into the chair across from him. “Don’t start,” you warned, though the edge in your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be.

Rafe’s grin widened. “What, can’t handle me being right for once?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right about what? You being a total pain in my ass? Sure, I’ll give you that.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand like he was amused by your whole existence. “C’mon, you know why you’re here.”

“So,” you started, trying to act casual, like your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest. “I guess lunch with Nate didn’t really do it for me.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “No shit. Figured as much.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept up. “Why are you so smug about it?”

“Because,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, “I knew you’d come back.”

Your breath caught in your throat at how sure he sounded.

Of course he knew. That cocky, self-assured grin of his said it all. He’d been waiting for this moment—waiting for you to realize what he had probably known all along.

And damn if it didn’t piss you off.

You sat down across from him, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your resolve, but it was slipping. Fast. Because the way he was looking at you? Like he was daring you to admit what you were really feeling—it was messing with your head.

“So, what now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rafe crossed his arms, biceps bulging in his stupid polo, like he was giving you all the space in the world to figure it out. “That’s up to you.”

That’s the thing about him—he could act all indifferent, like he wasn’t bothered, but you could see it. There was something behind his eyes, just barely kept in check. And it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t just some game to him. Not anymore.

But you weren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. Not yet. 

“What makes you so sure I’m not just here to tell you I’m picking Nate?”

That smirk faltered for just a second. “You’re not.”

You couldn’t be. 

“How do you know?”

“Because if you were, you wouldn’t have called me.”

The way he said it—so simple, so damn certain—made your heart skip. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Hated that he had this pull on you that no one else ever had. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the truth. Not when it was staring you in the face, wearing a smug expression and leaning back like he had all the time in the world.

“What if I did?” you shot back, still trying to hold your ground.

He shrugged, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Then I guess I’d have to live with that. But I’m not worried.”

Lies.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re so damn cocky, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink.

You wanted to roll your eyes again, to act like he wasn’t getting to you. But he was. And he knew it.

You rested your elbows on the table, your eyes meeting his. “And what if I told you I wasn’t sure? What if I told you I’m still figuring it out?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just kept his eyes locked on yours, like he was seeing right through the bullshit. “Then I’d tell you to take your time. Figure it out.”

The way he said it—so calm, so sure—made your stomach twist. He wasn’t asking you to pick him. He was daring you to. Because Rafe didn’t do half-measures. He didn’t do safe. He was all or nothing, and right now? He was putting it all on the table.

All you could think about was the way your heart was hammering in your chest, the way every part of you was screaming that this—this—was what you really wanted.

And that’s when it hit you: you weren’t scared of Rafe. You were scared of how much you wanted him.

“Rafe, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure of where you were even going with that.

His expression softened, just a fraction. “What? What do you want to say?”

You wanted to say everything. That you weren’t just messing with him anymore either, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him, that you were tired of pretending like Nate was some perfect choice when he wasn’t even in the same league. But saying all that? To someone who hurt you so much before?

He had that look, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind but was giving you space to figure it out on your own. But you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you were ready to say it out loud. Admitting how much Rafe meant to you felt like letting him win, like handing him all the power. And after everything, after all the back-and-forth, you didn’t want to be that vulnerable. Not with him.

“I know I’ve been an asshole,” he started, almost hesitant. “All those years, the shit I said—it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

He ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to figure out how to keep going. “I just... I don’t know. It was easier to push you away, to act like I didn’t give a fuck, you know? Like messing with you made it better somehow. But it didn’t.” He paused, his voice softening. “It made me feel like shit.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You just sat there, staring at him, trying to process the fact that Rafe Cameron—Rafe—was apologizing.

He swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting your eyes again.

 “I know I’m a mess. Hell, I’ve always been a mess. And I get why you’d pick someone like Nate. The guy who won’t make you lose sleep wondering what the hell is going on.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is, I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up since the beginning. With you, with us. And I hate that I did that." He pushed back slightly, running a hand over his face like he was frustrated with himself. “I’m not good with this... with feelings. With being upfront. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that or trust me after everything I’ve pulled. But I want you to know I’m not the same guy I was back then. It sounds fucking insane, but I’m not. I want to be better. For you. Because, fuck, I don’t want to lose you to some guy just because I couldn’t admit I was scared of this—of us.”

You bit your lip, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

“And look, I know I’ve made it hard for you to believe me,” he said, his voice softer now, more honest than you’d ever heard him. “But you should know that you’re not just some game to me. Not anymore. You’re... everything I’ve been too afraid to want.”

The guy who spent years acting like nothing could touch him, like he was untouchable, was now sitting across from you, pouring his heart out. And you had no idea what to say.

Your mind was racing. It felt like everything you thought you knew about him, about what you were feeling, was suddenly flipped upside down. You'd always assumed Rafe would never be the guy who’d sit down and admit he was scared of something, especially not scared of you.

But here he was, looking like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.

What? What were you even supposed to say? That you forgave him? That you didn’t? That you were still figuring out how you felt about everything? You weren’t even sure yourself. But you did know one thing—whatever this was—it was real. 

You couldn’t deny that anymore.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know that I’m not going to play around anymore. Not with you.”

Your heart clenched at that. And the thing was, you could see it in his eyes—he meant it. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky attitude. Just him. Raw and real and honest in a way that caught you completely off guard.

And suddenly, you realized that was what scared you the most. Not Rafe, but the way he made you feel. The way he pushed you to stop pretending, to be real, even when it terrified you.

You stared at him, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. He was spilling his guts to you. It felt... unreal, and you were torn between wanting to laugh and maybe freak out a little.

All you could think was, How the hell am I supposed to handle this? This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not from him.

“So, what,” you started, leaning back a bit, trying to keep your voice casual, “you’re just, like, a totally different person now? Is this the part where you tell me you’ve been secretly going to therapy or something?”

Rafe’s lips twitched, but he didn’t fully smile. “No, not exactly,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But... I’ve been trying to figure shit out. With myself. With us.”

With us. Your stomach did this stupid little flip at that, but you ignored it. “That’s a big statement, Cameron. You’ve had, like, two whole epiphanies and suddenly you’ve got everything figured out?”

He sighed, “I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out, alright? I’m just trying to be honest for once. I’m done screwing around with you.”

His tone was sincere, and as much as you wanted to keep teasing him, the look in his eyes made your throat tighten a bit. You shifted in your seat, your mind running a million miles an hour.

“I mean, I guess that’s an improvement,” you muttered, keeping it light even though your heart was pounding.

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. “You were, let’s see, kind of a dick for a long time.”

He didn’t argue. “Yeah. I was.”

That caught you off guard. No defense, no excuses. Just... agreement. 

“Okay, so... what now?” you asked, trying to play it cool. “You apologize, and I just forget all the crap from before? You’re really not making this easy,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but your voice betrayed you, sounding a little too soft.

Rafe shrugged, that little smirk threatening to return. “Didn’t think you wanted easy.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know me so well, huh?”

“Better than you think.”

Your heart raced. “Right, because I just love being confused and frustrated. It’s my favorite hobby.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Well, you could always just admit that you’re intrigued. That might save us both some time.”

“Intrigued? Please. More like I’m questioning my life choices.”

Rafe leaned forward, “Hey, at least it’s not boring, right? I mean, look at us. This is way more interesting than whatever you were doing with Nate.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “True. But interesting doesn’t mean it’s not a total trainwreck waiting to happen.”

“Maybe,” he said, “But it could also mean something different.”

 “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” you said, trying to lighten the mood again. “What’s next? A serenade?”

“Actually, I’m not a bad singer,” he quipped, flashing that trademark grin. “But I think I’ll spare you the performance for now.”

“Wow, I’m overwhelmed by the humility.”

He chuckled softly, “You love it. And you know it.”

There it was again—the way he said things like it was a fact, like he could read you better than you could read yourself. And the worst part? He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“You don’t know everything about me, Rafe,” you said, your voice quieter now, but not weak. 

His smile softened, just barely, like he heard what you weren’t saying out loud. 

“Maybe not everything. But enough to know you’re not here by accident.”

It was easier to blame the pull he had on you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just him. You were here because something between the two of you, no matter how messy, no matter how confusing, felt unfinished.

You crossed your arms, trying to gain some control of the situation. “You’re awfully confident for someone who doesn’t have all the answers.”

“Not all of them,” he agreed, leaning back in his chair again, “But I know enough to know I’m not letting you go without a fight.”

There it was. That line you didn’t know you were waiting for. The line that said this wasn’t just some flirty game for him anymore. That maybe he was as scared of losing you as you were of admitting how much you wanted him.

And in that moment, sitting across from him, with all his defenses down and no jokes left to deflect with, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t ready to walk away either.

“Well,” you said, your voice softer, “I guess we’ll see if you’re really up for it, won’t we?”

His eyes locked onto yours, something serious flickering there for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. We will.”

[betelgeuses-wife]

Hi there!! Could I request a sweet oneshot where the Reader cuddles with BJ, combing through his hair while he curls up with her? Romantic ship bordering on platonic would be lovely!! 🥰 thank you!!

If course! I'll do my best! I hope you like it. Please let me know feedback, it helps a lot!

-----

Creature Comforts

🪲🧃

-----

You weren't entirely sure what had gotten Bee in such a put-out mood but after this long, you refrained from trying to guess, it could've been for a number of reasons or just one, perhaps one that wouldn't seem much of a big deal to you but that was Bee for you. You were used to just giving him comfort when he asked for it because it wasn't too often when he wasn't his usual, theatrical self.

Adventures in Babysitting was playing on the TV while you both were on the couch, you were sat up with your legs resting on the footrest and Bee was laying with his head in your lap; a pillow under him. He seemed unusually quiet and you wondered what was on his mind, usually he'd have made some crude jokes about the lead actress by now. He'd have found a number of ways to try to make you laugh but it was radio silence on his end. With Bee's lack of personality showing, you were barely paying attention to the movie yourself but you weren't particularly in a bad mood, you just wanted to find a way to make Bee...well. Himself again. You knew people had their off days and you supposed ghosts did too.

You were running your fingers through his hair gently, not really even aware you were doing so until you caught a knot and heard Bee grumble.

A "Sorry...", whispered, slipped from your before pursed lips. Your gaze settling on Bee rather than the screen, now slightly more focused on gently getting the knot out without disturbing him more. Bee didn't often care about his appearance either, he'd rarely ask for help with his hair but he hadn't complained since he had come to rest his head in your lap about a half an hour ago. So, you figured he didn't hate it.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of snuggling up with him and taking advantage of the silence but in all honesty you wanted to just comfort him. There were a number of things that were left unspoken between the two of you, each of you held your own secrets about your dynamic. Perhaps denial was at play but at times, your flirtatious, playful moments you shared bordered closer to your feelings and wants for Bee than you'd care to admit. You stated you'd only let him be around so long as it was platonic and here you were questioning that.

"What's on ya mind, Sweets?" His gravelly voice pulled you from your thoughts. Perhaps your lack of detangling had earned his attention.

"I could ask you the same thing. You've been quiet too." Your eyes locked onto his as Bee had turned to look up at you.

"Just'a thinkin, s'all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"What. 'N' ruin your quiet time?"

"I'll take that as a no then. Want to cuddle...then?" Your voice softer, perhaps given the quiet, almost tender exchange of time you had shared over the last hour, it felt a little strange. Perhaps edging into romantic territory but you hid your thoughts as you felt Bee move to sit up.

"C'mere then" he offered as his arms hung open.

Your momentary worry about overstepping boundaries was washed away and you shifted over into his arms, sinking into his hold as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick squeeze. He wasn't warm but it was still comforting. You knew how to compensate for the cons of him being a ghost. The house was always made warmer in the evenings during the colder seasons so you didn't notice the coldness of his touch, a hot water bottle also helped too. But having a cold body body hug helped in the summer. A welcomed feeling when you started to overheat. You found ways to adapt to what were issues before. Perhaps the fact you had embraced ways to make living together work had been the reason he trusted you, and you loved seeing his reaction to your ideas, you saw how he had felt seen, properly seen after decades of people wanting to just get rid of him.

You could feel as he relaxed, glancing up to see his eyes now on the screen, perhaps whatever had been troubling him had settled, he seemed more content with you in his arms. Maybe that was just your mind looking into it too much though. You weren't willing to say anything was for certain.

"Like what ya see, Tootz?"

"Shut up, Juice."

"Whatcha gunna do? Make me?"

You rolled your eyes as you watched him raised his eyebrows a few times and winked. You swatted his chest and turned back to the TV. But you were still aware of his hand on your lower back, rubbing it confortingly in small motions, something you often had needed after a long day but you supposed he had gotten so used to it that he was doing it without realising.

You hadn't really realised it until that moment but you had both slotted into living together quite well, and had learnt how best to comfort each other, even without knowingly doing so. You had him to come home to and he knew you'd always come back or let him know if you weren't. You both gave each other someone to rely on, at a time you both needed it. Perhaps that was the blessing the people before you saw as a curse.

[idkyetxoxo]

Davos Blackwood - Do I Wanna Know

Summary - In a heated confrontation between estranged lovers, unspoken truths and unresolved emotions surge to the surface, igniting jealousy and frustration. Within the commotion, raw desire and longing burst forth, driven by an intense, feverish infatuation.

Pairing - Davos Blackwood x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2088

Masterlist for Davos • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you'd stay. Baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

"You can stay," I said, propping myself up on my elbow, watching as he began to get dressed, his back to me while he fastened the clasps on his clothes. 

The room felt colder with each piece of clothing he put on, and I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment settling in my chest.

"No, I cannot," he replied matter-of-factly, his voice void of any hesitation. I sighed, rolling my eyes and stretching out again, feeling the familiar sting of rejection.

"Of course," I mumbled under my breath, not really intending for him to hear. But he did. He turned back to face me, a questioning look on his face, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You always bolt like this," I added, my voice rising slightly. "Every time we share something, you get up and leave as if it meant nothing."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture I knew all too well. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice sharper now, anger creeping in. "You know it's complicated."

"Complicated?" I scoffed, the word bitter on my tongue. I shook my head, more at myself than at him, wondering how I had once thought this would be different. 

"What's so complicated about wanting to stay?" I pressed on, my voice trembling slightly. "About wanting to see where this could go?"

He shifted uneasily, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the right words were hidden there. 

"I have my reasons," he said finally, but the words felt weak, lacking conviction.

"And I have mine," I shot back, frustration edging my voice. "But I'm here, willing to face whatever comes next. Can you say the same?"

The silence that followed was deafening. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and resolve. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, the things we couldn't say in the harsh light of day, the truths we only dared to whisper in the dark.

His expression hardened, and he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I wish I could stay," he said eventually, his voice cold and distant. "But I can't. This is how it has to be."

I nodded, trying to keep my emotions in check. 

"Then go," I said quietly, forcing myself to lie back down as if the act of turning away could shield me from the pain welling up inside. My heart ached with the finality of it all, a dull throb that seemed to echo in the empty spaces of my soul. "But don't expect me to wait forever."

He finished dressing quickly, his movements abrupt and filled with a sense of urgency.

As he approached the door, he hesitated for a moment, glancing back at me with a look of finality.

"Don't expect me to come back," he said, his voice carrying a final, unyielding edge.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left alone in the dim, silent room. The darkness seemed to close in around me, each breath heavy with the weight of unanswered questions and unresolved feelings. 

As I stared into the void, I couldn't shake the feeling that this might truly be the end, the final chapter of a story that had once seemed so full of promise.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"It's my pleasure, Lord Tully," I said with a playful smile, reaching out to accept the delicate flower he offered. 

His fingers brushed lightly against my hand before he lifted the flower to place it gently in my hair, his fingers brushing against my temple. The touch was soft, almost reverent.

"Please, call me Oscar," he said, stepping back to admire the flower nestled in my hair.

"Does it look pretty?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. I knew he was watching, I knew he could hear, and I knew he was angry.

"Absolutely beautiful," Oscar murmured, his voice low and filled with genuine admiration. His eyes drifted from the flower to my face, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of the figure lurking in the corner. His jaw was set, his fists clenched at his sides. For a man who vowed not to return, he surely held a great fascination with my whereabouts.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. 

"Is everything all right here?" Davos asked, his voice dripping with barely concealed anger. His gaze swept over Oscar as if trying to dissect the sincerity behind his smile.

"Yes, everything is fine," I said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. "Oscar was just showing me this beautiful flower."

Davos's eyes flicked to Oscar, his expression hardening. "You should be careful, Lord Tully. Not everything is as it seems."

Oscar straightened, meeting Davos's gaze head-on. "I assure you, my intentions are nothing but honourable."

"Intentions can be misleading," Davos shot back, his eyes narrowing.

The room felt like a battlefield, with me standing in the middle, trying to hold the line.

"Thank you, Oscar," I said again, more firmly this time. "The flower is lovely."

Oscar nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

As the door closed behind him, I turned sharply to face Davos, his eyes piercing through the dim light.

"Was that necessary?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness.

His eyes flared with jealousy, the intensity of his gaze searing through me like a brand. "You're really going to entertain him right in front of me?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his gaze with a defiant stare. "You have no right to be jealous. You walked out. You left me."

"I left because I had to," he shot back, his voice rising with an edge of defensiveness. "It wasn't a choice, it was something I needed to do. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."

"Caring?" I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You think you can just walk out and then come back expecting everything to be the same? You made your choice, Davos. You decided to leave."

His expression softened for a fleeting moment, a glimmer of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior. But it was short-lived. 

"I've thought it through. I want you. I've always wanted you," he said, his voice heavy with earnestness. "I realize that now more than ever."

I looked at him, incredulous. "So you come crawling back now, expecting me to just forget everything?"

"Yes," he said, his voice raw and honest. "Because I can't stand the thought of losing you. I can't bear the idea of you moving on without me."

We stood there, staring at each other, the air thick with unresolved emotions and unspoken words. The tension between us was electric, and before I could process what was happening, we both lunged at each other.

Our lips met in a desperate, fiery kiss, years of longing and regret pouring out in that single, explosive moment. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, as if afraid I might slip away. I responded with equal fervour, clutching his tunic, wanting to hold onto him and never let go.

The kiss was a mix of anger, passion, and deep-seated love, a testament to the complicated relationship we had always shared. Without another word, he lifted me onto the table behind us, his hands firm and possessive. 

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and pulled the flower from my hair. With a determined expression, he crushed it in his hand, the petals falling to the floor like forgotten promises.

I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the gesture breaking the tension. He grinned, a flash of his old self shining through, before capturing my lips in another searing kiss. His hands roamed my body, caressing and exploring, igniting a fire within me that I couldn't quench.

He pushed me back gently, laying me down on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. The cool surface beneath me contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned over me, his breath hot against my ear. 

"I've missed you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Show me," I whispered back, my hands finding their way to his belt, tugging it free.

In a frenzy of passion and urgency, we shed our clothes, the room filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing and whispered confessions. 

His focus was entirely on me, he trailed kisses down my neck, his hands exploring every inch of my body. 

"I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt before," he promised, his voice husky.

He paused, looking deeply into my eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his tone serious.

I pretended to ponder his question, a playful smile tugging at my lips, before nodding. "Yes, I trust you," I replied.

His eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and excitement. He reached for a piece of cloth, tying it gently around my eyes. The darkness heightened my senses, every touch of his fingers on my skin more electrifying than the last.

With my vision obscured, I felt his lips return to my neck, his kisses trailing lower and lower. 

"I want you to feel everything," he whispered against my skin. His hands caressed my sides, moving with a tender yet firm pressure that made me gasp.

He explored every part of me with an intensity that made my body tremble. His lips and hands seemed to be everywhere at once, drawing soft moans and shivers from me. 

The anticipation, the uncertainty of his next move, made each sensation even more powerful.

As his lips travelled down my body, I felt a surge of pleasure unlike anything before. "Davos," I breathed, my voice shaky with need.

"Just feel," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. His words were a command and a promise, a pledge to make me experience every moment fully.

He entered me slowly, savouring the moment. Without my sight, the sensation was magnified, every movement sending waves of pleasure through me. I arched my back, a gasp escaping my lips. 

The rhythm we found was driven by desperation and need, a physical manifestation of the emotional storm that had brought us to this point.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I want you," I gasped, my body responding to his every touch. "I need you, Davos."

"Perfect," he murmured, increasing his speed. His mouth found my collarbone, sucking and nibbling softly at the skin. Each bite sent a shiver through me, the pleasure mingling with a sweet ache. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer.

The intensity built, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge. My senses were overwhelmed, every touch, every kiss, driving me higher. I could feel the tension coiling within me, a tight, burning need that threatened to consume me.

"Davos," I cried out, my voice a desperate plea.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. "I've got you."

With a final, powerful thrust, we both surrendered to the climax, our cries intertwining in the heated space between us. The sensation surged through us like an unstoppable force, a wave of pleasure so intense it left us shivering and gasping for air.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he shifted slightly, his hands moving with a deliberate tenderness. Gently, he untied the cloth that had been concealing my eyes. The fabric slipped away, and I blinked as the room came into focus.

The sight of his face was almost overwhelming. His expression was a mix of relief, adoration, and a deep, unspoken emotion. He looked at me as though seeing me for the first time, his eyes drinking in the flushed, satisfied expression on my face. 

The connection between us felt electric, charged with the intensity of what we had just shared.

I reached up, my fingers brushing his face, feeling the warmth and firmness of his skin beneath my touch. 

"Did you feel everything?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and satisfaction.

I smiled, my eyes meeting his with a mix of joy and contentment. "Yes," I whispered, "every single moment."

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I've thought it through. Crawling back to you.

A/n - Tbh I don't love this one, it didn't really go how I had it planned out in my head but I hope someone out there does lmaoo.

[lala-blahblah]

I absolutely cannot sit down and write a nice version of this bc my brain says no, but i would like to let you all know I'm thinking of a fanfic where older Edgeworth is moving back to the US (or japan, whichever universe you subscribe to) and runs into Nick in the store while buying mass produced art to hang on the walls of his new house.

And Nick is like "dear god do you want your house to look like a dentist's office. Please do better" (in a friendly way, they are too old for rivalry at this point) and so Nick invites Edgeworth to come over and take any of his old artwork from college, since it is just sitting in a portfolio in a closet somewhere. And Edgeworth agrees to come over and look through Nick's old stuff together. There are themes of 1) growing older and like reflecting on the past and 2) Nick's character trait of finding meaning in challenges vs Edgeworth's tendency to stick with what he does well. In my head I imagine that Nick was good at art and it came somewhat easily to him and that bored him, and he was drawn to law in part because it was hard and it excited him and made him want to try harder. And i think tying that in with fatherhood, like it being unexpected and hard but something he thrives at because he feels good when there's a challenge. Potentially also touching on how like, when he lost his badge he felt very listless and depressed because he wasn't being challenged anymore, there wasn't anything to drive him and motivate him. And I think Edgeworth would be impressed by seeing Nick's old pieces (I assume he hasn't seen much of his art before) and wondering why he didn't choose to pursue art further. He also thinks about how art had always put him off personally because he couldn't get it "right" right away, and on the other hand how the structure and logic of law came easily to him, which led him to become a lawyer. I think he measures his self worth by his success in his field because he never had the support to believe he had intrinsic value as a person and maybe wasn't so good at making emotional connections with people. So that big contrast between them is so interesting... I think Edgeworth would be jealous of Nick's bravery in pursuing something he was bad at without giving up and Nick would be jealous of Edgeworth's success in law, but in a subdued way as they've grown older.

A far as actual scenes in the fic, I think I would use Nick's art as a conduit for my own agenda to have them talk about topics that are of interest to me... I would like Edgeworth to feel out of his depth for once and for nick to be the confident one as he talks about something he is well versed in, and for edgeworth to have to face that discomfort and also be a little impressed intellectually with Nick. I think I would do that by having them look through some abstract art Nick did (my intro painting classes were all abstract so we could focus on color mixing and getting comfortable with the medium). Edgeworth compliments Nick on a painting with a bunch of colored squares in gradient clusters and then gets embarrassed when Nick tells him those were just color mixing swatches. Alternatively, in my mind they are both asexual and I think even though this feels like a hallmark cliche I would have Edgeworth flounder and be very embarrassed over Nick's old figure drawing piece. I feel like Nick would be like "no you don't understand it's all very professional and normal when we draw them, like it's just about learning the shape language" and Edgeworth would be like "this is very improper and I don't know how to react can we please not look at naked people!". I don't think i would do both, but something to upset the power dynamic for a moment would be interesting! Nick is always the awkward one I want to see him shine for just a moment enough for edgeworth to go "wait what... i've known him for so long but perhaps i don't really know him at all..."

I would want Edgeworth to end up taking a series of 3 canvases Nick did in an oil painting class that were still lifes of objects the teacher had set up around the classroom. I headcanon that Nick actually far preferred drawing people to objects and rebelled against the assignment by hiding his reflection in one of the objects in each drawing- the top of his head is hidden in an ornament on a christmas tree, his eye is reflected in the shine of a china vase, etc. So it's a little secret, and Edgeworth kind of likes that... it is sweet in a way to see a much younger Phoenix captured in time like that. Something Edgeworth will be reminded of when he sees the paintings but nobody else will catch onto

I would want to layer this with a fatherhood storyline... I think i would frame it as nick inviting edgeworth over to dinner with him and Trucy and Edgeworth stepping into this domestic family life as a visitor and witnessing how its transformed Nick, like seeing him from a different lens. I think after they pick out paintings and have dinner they sit around talking. Trucy had been sitting with them, earlier she showed off some magic tricks and gave Edgeworth a picture of hers from the fridge to add to his new art collection (it's a rainbow dolphin and a sea turtle wearing top hats. Nick says she's in her Lisa Frank era). But she's been quiet for awhile and Nick realizes she's fallen asleep and it's like 11. He's like, crap, i screwed up i should've paid attention and gotten her put to bed, I'm a bad father and I have an audience for this failure. And on top of that, I already failed at being a lawyer, no matter what I try I always disappoint everyone. It's an unexpected moment of vulnerability there... like he's seemed so put together and grown up to Edgeworth this whole time like a whole different person, but he's not a different person he just has different sides to him. And this moment is one where edgeworth can be like hey, no, you're a great dad, and I'm impressed by you and everything you achieved. And I think that could lead into vulnerability from Edgeworth about his relationship with his dad and how he misses him/how he feels like he hasn't really been loved by anyone since his dad died, and how Trucy is lucky to have someone like Nick in her life.

Nick excuses himself to carry Trucy to bed and Miles starts cleaning up the kitchen. I would give a moments pause here to talk about the strange intimacy of going through someone else's kitchen cabinets and drawers, you feel like a stranger there trying to put yourself into someone else's shoes to understand how they live in this space. Maybe he guesses the right drawer for the silverware first try and he feels a little spark of connection. like "we are different in many ways but we are alike enough that we look in the same place for our spoons". Details on the kitchen too about the kid safe plastic bowls and knives that indicate a child is part of the household, that the household has been built around the child, in fact. Edgeworth lives alone and I imagine things are kind of fancy for him (he's a man who wears a cravat so he probably has fine china right). It's completely different from this shabby mismatched cutlery that Nick has, but this kitchen has personality. Maybe he wouldn't mind having a kitchen like this so much. This is a hint at him being lonely, being included in this family unit just for a day has given him this curious sense of longing, for what he isn't sure... does he want kids? Does he want Nick? Does he just want to be part of a family? These are confusing questions and he would much rather not feel anything at all, but unfortunately it is late and he did have a glass of wine with dinner so emotions are Happening.

He hears Nick sigh tiredly as he comes into the kitchen, and Edgeworth starts to ask him where his tupperware is when suddenly Nick is wrapping his arms around him and Edgeworth is Very Tense because he's never good at knowing how to act in situations like this and he and Nick have never been on a hugging level before and he's not sure what this is even for. Then Nick is like "I keep thinking about what you said earlier, about feeling alone ever since your dad passed away. I didn't know, that's such a long time to feel alone. I don't want you to think you're on your own". Edgeworth relaxes a little bit because now he knows what the hug is for and what he's supposed to feel from it. Its very kind of Nick to worry but its unnecessary and he says so. He has colleagues he's friendly with and people from law school he keeps in touch with, he's alright. And Nick says he knows but he also knows it's difficult living the way they do, and what he means is single and in your thirties. Because everyone else is getting married or living with a long term partner or at the very least dating and their lives are focused on that relationship as the center of their being. And when you don't have that, not only is it harder to relate to the people around you but it is harder to feel like you matter in people's lives, because they all prioritize their partner before their friends. And maybe their situations aren't exactly the same (Nick has a daughter while Edgeworth lives alone) and maybe their choices were made for different reasons (Nick used to date and didn't mind it but didn't see a need to prioritize it. Edgeworth found himself unable to distinguish with certainty whether or not he was actually romantically interested in people, and rather than make the wrong choice he decided he would rule out error by choosing no one at all). But regardless, they both know first hand the isolation that comes with trying to carve a path for themselves that does not include a life partner in a world where everyone else comes in pairs. And Nick is reaching out across that emptiness saying hey, we might both be building different lives, but there's room for you to be a part of mine if you want.

Outloud, Nick says "Really, Miles. You aren't alone in this." and Edgeworth says "Well, Phoenix, neither are you". And he stands there and lets his friend hug him, and it doesn't feel like butterflies but it does feel solid and warm and good. And he doesn't even worry about whether he's supposed to let go by now or not, because it's nice, not being alone.

They stand there in comfortable silence for a long moment before Nick speaks again. "hey, remember when you used to hate me? And look at us now." Edgeworth turns his head sharply. "I never HATED you, Wright. I simply thought you were foolish and a waste of my time." He realizes a little too late that this is probably a rude thing to say to the person that just gave you a pep talk, but Nick just laughs, his head still resting on Edgeworth's shoulder. Looking at him from this angle, face almost fully hidden, Nick could be any age at all. It's easy to imagine for a moment that he's the same nervous version of himself that stood across from him in the courtroom for the first time all those years ago. The only thing breaking the illusion is the subtle streaks of silver that cross his temples. Not entirely sure why he does it, Edgeworth kisses the top of Nick's head. He feels odd about it the moment he does so, realizing it comes across not as a platonic or romantic action but as a gesture suited for a dog or pet of some kind. Nick looks up, looking confused but not displeased. "What was that for?" "It was a thank you I suppose". Miles steps away now, still uncomfortable with perceived failures even if those failures are just in social interactions, and begins to gather his things while Nick gets down a tupperware from a cabinet. "Thank you, for the dinner and for the paintings." Edgeworth continues. "I'd like to repay the favor once I get settled into the new house. Trucy's invited too, of course". As he says it, he realizes he genuinely is looking forward to seeing them again. Nick walks him to the apartment door and they say their goodbyes while Edgeworth tucks the paintings (and Trucy's dolphin drawing) under his arm.

He gets halfway down the hallway when he hears Nick calling after him. "Hey! Miles! Take an art class with me sometime" Newfound friendship or not, Edgeworth just looks at him in disdain. "what, so you can show off your superior art skills? No thank you, Wright" "No, for fun. You can make things of your own to hang on your walls. We can do something I've never done before so we're evenly matched. Like printmaking? Origami? Um, pottery?" Edgeworth bristles at the suggestions but takes a moment to acknowledge why he's feeling that way; again, it's that fear of failure. But he's enjoyed himself today and deep down he thinks it could be fun to try something new, not with the goal of being perfect at it but with the goal of spending time together. Nick surprised him today. Maybe he can surprise himself. "... I would consider pottery" Edgeworth admits. And Nick looks really happy about it. "Great. I'll book us a session then. It'll be fun, you'll see. Edgeworth shakes his head, but there's no malice behind it. "Have a good night, Phoenix" "You too. Get home safe Miles".

Edgeworth gets home a little before midnight and props the three canvases against the moving boxes still stacked up in the foyer. Tomorrow, he'll figure out where he wants to hang them. Right now though, he walks over to the bare fridge and carefully pins up Tracy's dolphin drawing. There's a lot more work to do, but it's already starting to feel like home.