#remind yourself how much pain it brought you

[zozo-01]

"my daddy gone for the weekend, so saturday baby we can get to freakin'."

It's here! After four-ish months, the smut is done! It took everything from me but I'm super proud of how this turned out! A huge shoutout to @dominimoonbeam for giving my the original idea, and my sincerest gratitude to everyone whom I lamented to, especially @gingerbreadmonsters, @lovelylonerliterature and @cashandprizes for making sure I wasn't making a fool of myself!

CW: University AU, David is a Business Major, Darlin' is a Poli Sci Major, No Angel and Sam AU, Unresolved Sexual Tension, leading to, Resolved Sexual Tension, they are stupid and in love, Top/Bottom Roles, First Time, Loss of Virginity, its david he's the virgin, Oral Sex, Riding, Grinding, david is a praise whore, they are horny young adults, Gender-Neutral Darlin', Jealousy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, David Shaw is Bad at Feelings, so is darlin', author is incapable of not being emotional, Minors Do Not Interact!!!!

click here for the ao3 link!!!

click here for the playlist made by @floofdeloop!!!

--

There wasn't a moment that went by where he didn't think of Darlin' promise. Even if he tried, the piercing on his tongue was a physical reminder that he couldn't get rid of.

Well, he technically could. Didn't mean he wanted to.

It was odd having a piercing at first, especially in such a weird place. He had to stop himself from playing with the piercing and pulling it out. While he would love to have Darlin' in his lap again to re-pierce his tongue, the pain was absolutely not worth it.

The reactions he got once he showed it off, on the other hand, were extremely worth it. No one could believe that goody-two-shoes David would get a piercing. A tongue piercing of all things. Milo and Asher had a ball when they found it, and they lost it when David revealed it was Darlin' who did it for him.

–

"I know Darlin' is into 'bad boys', but I never thought you would change for them," Asher cackled while lying upside down on his couch. 

David knew that this was a mistake. He should have kept that part a little secret, but no. He falsely assumed that his best friends would have been mature about it. He'd been a fool to put trust in those two. 

Milo, to his credit, didn't fall onto the floor laughing the way Asher did, but even he couldn't stop himself from teasing the larger wolf. "Next thing ya know, he's pullin' up with a damn sleeve like that one guy they brought-" He cut himself off to narrowly miss the pillow David threw. "Hey! Watch where you're throwin' big guy!"

Ignoring Milo, David sat beside Asher on the couch, putting his head in his hands out of frustration. Sure, Darlin' had a specific type of people that they liked, the unsavoury the better according to them. And sure, he couldn't help but compare himself to their past partners. But that didn't mean he didn't want to change himself for them! He had a well-adjusted head on his shoulders, and he knows it's foolish to change yourself for a person.

But if it did make Darlin' like him…

A soft flick to his forehead brought him out of his thoughts. Looking up at his friends, he saw his fellow pack members looking at him with what he could describe as an "are you stupid" look.

"Look we get it," Asher spoke up, moving into his role as voice of reason. "You like them, and I mean this in the best way, you don't look like their type. I know you're smarter than to change your whole self for one person, but seriously. If they don't like you now, they won't like you when you're closer to 'their type.'"

"Besides," Milo added while sitting next to David. "All this is assumin' that they don't like you. Who knows big man, maybe they do."

(Milo tried not to give too much away, for fear of his own life, but come on! Seeing David slumped over like a puppy made him feel bad for the man. It's even worse knowing that Darlin' does like him, but both of them are so emotionally inept that it will take the world ending for them to confess, and even then, one of them will be convinced that the other doesn't really love them. If he has to spend another minute hearing Darlin' lamenting about how David is too good for him, then he'll find a telepath to share their thoughts with each other.)

(And the worst part is that even that might not be enough to break this stalemate.)

–

David eyed the clock in his living room while vacuuming the floor. They would be here in about an hour, and knowing them, they'd probably arrive even earlier than that. All the more reason for him to finish cleaning the house as soon as humanly possible. Lucky for him, he wasn't exactly human.

He, in his naivety, decided to take some political science courses that semester. It made sense, nothing goes better together than politics and business, and with the way his professors stressed the connections between the two fields, it was only a matter of time before David wanted to learn more. He's already required to learn about corporate-related laws. Why not learn all the other types of laws? 

The answer to that question is that political science was a dreadful field of study, filled with jargon and old men with pessimistic views of the world. David had always been a numbers guy, and now you're telling him that he had to write essays? The absolute sheer horror.

There were some bright sides, though. Not as bright as their smile, let's not get ahead of ourselves. He sighed, mind eternally consumed with their being and he wouldn't have it any other way.

After seeing his struggle to write down a coherent thought without going on a tangent, Darlin' decided to help his poor soul to write his final paper for their public policy class. It was no issue, they insisted, having already finished their essay a week in advance. When they put their mind to it, Darlin' could do anything. It was what he admired most about them.

The doorbell rang, cutting off David's thoughts. He looked over the room one last time and with a satisfied hum, he walked over to the door.

Behind the door stood Darlin', a dazzling smile on their lips and food in their hands. "With Gabe out of town, I had a feeling that you haven't had good food in a hot minute." Walking right in and going straight to the kitchen, they put the styrofoam box on the dining table. 

He closed the door and followed them, mouth-watering and stomach rumbling at the smell of the shawarma platter on the table. They were right in assuming that he hadn't eaten much since his father left for his work trip. Gabe did make a large batch of food so that he didn't rely solely on fast food. Yet even after taking into account his large appetite, David was out of food within a few days. And fast food couldn't dare compete with his father's cooking.

"Yeah, well he should've made more for me." he joked, taking his school bag and sitting on the couch. "Seriously, thank you for helping me out with the essay, you're a god send."

"It's no biggie, Davey," they replied, sitting right beside him and taking out their notes. "Essays like these ain't that hard once you do a couple of them," Darlin' smirked and he already knew that they were preparing to tease him. "I know that's too much thinking for our little business major-"

David didn't give them a chance to continue, tackling them onto the couch. With a pillow in his hands, he smothered their face with enough pressure to keep their mouth closed without suffocating them.

"Alright, you little shit, if you're done making fun of me, how about we get back to this goddamn essay." An eye roll and nod were what he needed to back off, taking the pillow off of their face. But still straddling their hips, he refused to move unless Darlin' asked him to.

There was a moment where they locked eyes. His heart was beating faster as he hoped that maybe they wanted this as much as he did. Maybe he can delude himself into thinking that there was want and lust in Darlin's eyes. Though it was more likely that their eyes were only a reflection of what he desired.

He snapped back to reality when Darlin' cleared their throat. "Can't really help you with your essay from down here, David," they chuckled nervously. He nodded, taking that as his cue to reluctantly get off of them. He grabbed his laptop, opening up his readings for this essay.

Darlin' opened up their essay, and he saw the different coloured highlights on the document. Probably the different parts and ideas he needs to cover for his assignment. "When you do a public policy essay, you need to analyze it based on the goals of the policy, instruments used to enact it and the setting it's used in…"

It was a lot of information to take in, the jargon and language didn't make it any easier to understand what the fuck was being said. Seriously, why do you need ten different terms to describe the same phenomenon? At least the business jargon didn't do that, it only had five different names for the same thing.

Whenever David felt like he couldn't continue, too tired to come up with more ideas to write down, he would take a sneaky look at Darlin'. Eyes lighting up and mouth spilling out a plethora of ideas of how to make the world better, it was clear why they were the right fit for this program. A part of them was determined to help everyone, from the broken to the damn. If they could even save one person, alter their life to make a positive impact, then they would do anything to make it happen.

The problem arose when Darlin' would try to save those who didn't ask for it, or worse, those who would take advantage of it. Bless their bleeding heart, but they were incapable of turning away a lost cause. "I was a lost cause once, so who the fuck am I to turn someone away from my door," they would say to anyone who would raise their concerns. David could recall every single time that Gabe and their parents would have to stop them from being a self-sacrificial martyr, and yet when Darlin' found something or someone to save, there was no stopping them.

And even though he knows that Darlin' is a grown adult who can take care of themselves, that doesn't stop the need to keep them safe. Preferably with him. So if someone who was taking advantage of their kindness turned the corner and left with a broken nose, then he's not saying that he did it. Not always, at least.

After all this introspection about Darlin', his feelings for them and this free speech policy, David put his final thoughts onto his page. Five hours and one thousand, five hundred and fifty-five words later, he was done with this godforsaken essay. Yippee for him, someone should plan him a parade!

Darlin' took a quick look over the essay for any logical and grammatical errors. They gave him the all-clear and he was on his way to hand in the essay. He was so focused on giving in his assignment that he didn't notice Darlin' getting up to grab the shawarma platter.

"Here," they said, sitting next to him and offering the platter to him, "you need all the food you can get." Darlin' didn't wait for a response before placing the food in his lap before turning back to do some more work.

He quietly ate his food, not wanting to break Darlin's concentration on whatever extra assignments they had to do. Their furrowed brows and jutted lip was endearing to him, just wanted to kiss their pout away.

"That reminds me!" They exclaimed, looking back at him, eyes shifting between his mouth and eyes. "How did your piercing heal? I'm thinking nothing went wrong if you haven't called me about anything?" The elephant in the room, or at least for him, was finally being addressed.

"Yeah, it's been great! I really like how it turned out." It was true, never in his life did he think that he'd be the piercing type. He knows that corporate culture was very finicky about what is and isn't appropriate, and he'd never been interested in any kind of body modification. But this piercing was the gateway drug into him exploring the various different ways he can express himself. Maybe he'll get that tattoo sleeve he's been eyeing on the internet? Or a couple of snake bites? (Didn't the last guy have those?)

But as long as Darlin' was next to him, helping him along the journey of self-expression, then bring on any challenge and needles that may come his way!

Scooching a little closer to them and putting a hand over theirs, his eyes softened as his voice became more genuine. "You did an amazing job, Darlin'. Thank you for doing it for me." 

They cleared their throat and looked into their lap. "Ahh, you know, it's no big deal, I'm just glad I can help." It was cute seeing the normally cool and confident Darlin' crumbling at the sound of genuine praise. The small and shy smile was all he needed, the satisfaction that he had the same effect on them that they did on him.

He tensed up when they leaned closer, their hand holding his shoulder as they used it as support. "Can I take a look, David? Just to make sure nothing's at risk of anything." They only moved when he nodded, hand moving from his shoulder to cupping his jaw.

David opened his mouth, all of a sudden conscious of any food that might be stuck in between his teeth or metal piercing. He hoped there was nothing left behind, internally cringing at the gross sight. Luckily for him, they didn't seem to be taken aback by anything in his mouth.

They hummed in approval, letting go of his chin and walked to the kitchen. "It looks good. No infection and little scarring, and you seem to be getting used to it." They grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, handing one to David and uncapping their own.

He took a few sips of his water, swishing it around to get rid of any extra food scraps in his mouth. Even if they didn't say anything, it didn't hurt to make extra sure in case they wanted to kiss him.

As that thought went through his head, his blood went hot. The thought of kissing him reminded him of the promise they made him. That they would let him test out, for lack of confidence to call it what it was, with them. Palms sweaty and knees weak, he debated on whether or not he should remind them.

On one hand, if they dismiss him, this could be the most embarrassing moment of his life. He's always wanted to move to Alaska, they have beautiful weather during this time of year.

Or… he'll get to sleep with Darlin'… even something more.

(At this point, the opportunity cost of each scenario was going through his brain. Trying to find the tradeoff value as well as the line of best fit in order to benefit both himself and Darlin'. If this doesn't make sense, then congratulations on not having the displeasure to take any Introductory to Economics class.)

"Do you remember what I said when I gave you that piercing?" they asked with caution, using the tone they use when they're ready to pull away from a conversation if they don't like his answer. It was frustrating, knowing that they were creating an exit plan without letting him give his answer. But all he could do was reassure them that he wouldn't leave, and he hoped in return, they promise the same.

Calming his beating heart, he replied to Darlin's question. "Yeah, what about it?" He hoped that his even tone didn't give away how desperate he was, borderline ready to throw himself at their feet and beg for their attention.

"Well…" They folded their arms around their back as their voice went deeper. "Do you want to test it out?" He wondered if their lack of shyness or embarrassment was a testament to how much they did not care. His stomach dropped at the thought of them only seeing this as a means of getting off. 

But it's better to have fucked than to never be loved at all, or something like that.

He crossed his arms, hoping that they could guard his fragile heart. "I'm down for it if you are," he stated without the overbearing emotion that had his heart in a vice grip. His stomach dropped into the abyss and the pressure building in his head had him questioning how long he could keep this facade up. 

David had never met someone so willing to throw themselves into any situation the same way that Darlin' does. A certain confidence and apathy guided and protected them going through their life, and he wonders if this was another example of it. If only he could hold himself high above the clouds the way they do.

He stood his ground with stiff muscles while watching Darlin' saunter on over to him. The smell of cigarette smoke and coconut engulfed his senses (was he also smelling mangos?), leaving him no choice but to hyper-focus on them. He watched as they put a hand on his waist, light to the touch and with caution in their eyes. Always waiting for the nod to continue.

"Can I continue, David?" they asked with the care they seldom reserved for themself. It was frustrating to watch them wear their heart down till there was no love left for them.

He nodded his head, breathing heavily and mentally begging them to do more, but they stood still. A nod was simply not a good enough answer for Darlin'. 

They tilted his head with their hand, looking straight into his eyes. "Words, Davey. I ain't moving till you say the magic word," they purred. It was all the encouragement he needed to let out a breathless 'yes' for their hand to pull him closer by his neck into a kiss.

It was painfully soft, not due to lack of passion, but because Darlin' was still treating him like a porcelain doll. He hated it, absolutely despised the fact that he wasn't being treated like the other people he'd seen them kiss. He didn't want to be special, he wanted to be treated like everyone else. 

(Scared and anxious is how Darlin' went through life. If an action wasn't thought through entirely, then it wasn't worth taking. They still weren't sure if David wanted to kiss them because he liked them or for other reasons, like wanting the brag about fucking them. Whatever his reason may be, they still wanted to test the waters with him. It was better to be safe than sorry, and with him, they wanted to keep him as safe as possible.)

(He isn't like the other people they kissed. He's so much more and they hope it won't break either of them in the long term.)

He followed their lips as they pulled away from him, desperation filling his body for their kiss, worsened by the sweet scent around him. He was scared that maybe they were coming to their senses and that he'd lose his only chance to kiss them.

Lust and love took control of his body and he pulled Darlin' back into him. He sighed when their lips touched his, smirking at the surprised whine that they let out. Wrapping his arm around their waist and a hand on their back, he was going to make sure they'd never leave him again.

He pushed Darlin’ against the pool table, hands on either side of their body, leaning in until his lips were barely touching theirs. Darlin's eyes grew wide as he closed in on them, stopping only when they were a breath apart. Their bravado slowly fell apart, breath quickening with each passing moment. As fun as their teasing was, David couldn't help but enjoy how he'd managed to turn the tables, even if only for a brief moment. 

Darlin' snapped out of their daze, hands beginning to wander once they regained their bearings. They started at his hips, moving up his sides before pressing warm palms against even warmer skin. They paid close attention to what made his breath hitch, their eyes seeming to commit everything to memory. He hoped it wasn't in vain. 

Adjusting their hands, they used their thumbs to press against his nipples experimentally, enjoying the groan their touch pulled from deep in his throat. He pressed them harder into the table as a breathless laugh escaped them. 

"How about a nipple piercing the next time? Play your cards right and I might be nice and do them both," they said with a smile and a playful gleam in their eyes.

David chuckled, with his eyes darkening. He leaned in, hovering his lips over their ear. “Maybe, but right now I want to test out another piercing.” He licked the shell of their ear, blowing on it to make them shiver. He adored the way their body opened up against him, leaning their head back to expose more of them to his mercy.

He kissed their lips, soft and playful, wanting to get them back for earlier. They gave him a warning growl, giving him a chance to kiss them properly and end this game. David didn't hedge, instead teasing them with another peck that had another growl tearing from their throat. 

His amusement was short-lived when he felt a hand around his neck, squeezing firmly and pulling him in close. His head spun deliciously the longer they deprived him of the ability to breathe.

David leaned back, looking at them with pleading eyes. Being choked was never a kink he thought he would have, but he hopes Darlin’ keeps their hands on his neck for the rest of the night. They tilted his head to the side with the hand on his chin, like they were inspecting something. The air was thick under their suffocating gaze, and David felt the wind knocked out of him. The way their eyes were locked on had him wondering what they were looking for. Maybe they were looking for any sign that the piercing may have infected him.

 He swallowed, a stupid thought running through his head. Maybe they were looking for any sign that anyone else left a mark on him? He had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. Do they really think David would fuck around with other people, especially when he finally had the chance to be marked by him? And even if he did, he would never let them mark his neck.

That honour was reserved for them, and them alone.

With a stern tone, Darlin’ asked David, “Are you going to keep fucking around, or are you going to kiss me properly?” He had no choice but to nod his head, completely enamoured with their voice.

They smirk, their grip on his throat loosening as their fingers slowly trace a path to the back of his neck to settle there instead. Then they pushed, forcing him closer until their lips were pressed against his ear. 

“Good boy, David.” 

The sound went through his ears and shot straight down to his cock.

Huh, for someone who’s as much of a control freak as he is, he’s surprised that he would relinquish control to Darlin’ that quickly. He’s even more surprised that it feels good to not be in control for once in his life.

“Mmmm, my oh my, what sharp teeth you have Mr. Shaw,” they purred, crashing their mouth onto his, running their tongue over his canines and sucking on his piercing. There wasn’t much David could do except groaning, too overwhelmed with the sensations he was feeling. “Whatever would you do with them?” Their alluring eyes and shit-eating grin rekindled the fire within him to get back at them.

This was it. This was David's chance to finally get back at Darlin' for every heated glance and flirty remark they had subjected him to over the years. Memories of every fleeting touch and teasing uptick of perfect lips spurred him on in his goal of returning the favour to them tenfold.

(Part of David also wanted to get back at Darlin’ for making him fall in love with them. For raising his hopes whenever they gave him their adoration and genuine smiles only to take someone else to their bed. It was stupid and selfish and childish but he didn’t care. He wanted them and this was the closest way to have them.) 

(If only he knew that they loved him as much as he did them. If only they would bare their hearts to each other, being honest to themselves and their desires for once in their lives.)

Trying to gain back some control and doing what he thought would make them feel good, he grabbed their ass and moved their hips against his. His pants were getting tighter with every moan that left their mouth. It was pure music to his ears and he was determined to draw out more sounds from them. He grabbed their thighs and picked them up, placing them on the pool table. 

He chuckled when Darlin’ let out a surprised yelp and continued to grind into their crotch. “You like my teeth, beautiful? Want to see what I can do with them?” 

He bared his teeth against their skin, making sure they could feel each one of his teeth and that the mark left behind would stay for the rest of their shared lives. Their enthusiastic nods were enough to give him the confidence needed to leave their lips and kiss other areas of their body.

He kissed down from their jaw to their neck, leaving soft kisses and sucking on their skin. Darlin’ shuddered and sighed, burying their fingers in his hair. Relishing the reaction that he was getting from them, he gently bit their neck. It wasn’t enough to bruise, but it was pleasurable if Darlin’s increased volume was anything to go by. Darlin' pulled him closer, moaning and whispering in his ear, “Oh, you can be rougher than that, sugar.” 

There was just one small issue.

He didn’t know how.

For all of his cockiness and initiative that he took tonight, it didn’t change the fact that he was a virgin and this was the most he'd ever fooled around with another person.

It wasn’t like David was actively avoiding sex, he just never found the time to form sexual relationships with someone. Between his classes, extracurriculars, work and looking for internships, losing his virginity had always been put on the back burner. Besides, he never found the right person to lose it with. Any time he’d muster up the courage, the little doubts in his brain would creep into his brain, and make him back down. 

Confidence can only get a man so far, and he realized with their hand in his hair and legs wrapped around his waist that maybe he bit off more than he could chew. 

He didn't realize that they paused when he did. They noticed that his hands had stopped moving and his lips stayed still. Moving both hands from his hair, they cupped his cheek and placed his forehead on theirs.

 “Hey, you still with me?” They asked with a soft tone and looked straight into his eyes. 

There was nothing but care and warmth in them. He wasn’t expecting anything else though. This was Darlin’, warm and caring to the bone and forever willing to share it with others. Even at their own detriment.

They caressed his cheek to try and ground him in reality. “We can stop, you know.” 

Gently, Darlin’ pushed David back, giving him the space he didn’t need to breathe. “I know you still haven't fucked with anyone like this, and I know it can be a lot.” They smiled, but David could sense some disappointment from them. “We can stop at any point you want.”

“But what about you?” he asked, always wanting to make sure that their needs would also be taken care of.

Their soft demeanour morphed back into the cocky, yet not over-confident attitude that he was accustomed to. How Darlin’ could shift between personas so quickly would always be a mystery to him. 

“Don’t worry about me, sugar.” Before David could rebuttal, they placed a finger on his mouth. “I’ll hop in the shower and fuck my fingers,” they said casually, shrugging their shoulders before continuing. “Or I’ll find someone else to fuck. Either or works.”

His blood lit up like a match. 

Through his own heart roaring in his ears, David took a moment to gauge whether they were serious. When they didn't balk under his gaze, he swallowed the growl threatening to rise from within his chest. Had Darlin' said to his face that they wouldn't hesitate to find someone else to finish with? That they would find someone else to bring to bed when he was already there? Did they not realize that those words alone had stoked the whispers of doubt and threatened to confirm all of his fears that he wasn't good enough for them?

He couldn’t stand the mere thought of another’s hands on them, especially when he finally got to touch them like this. David wanted to be the one who Darlin’ ran to whenever they had a hard day. He wants to grant them comfort and sanctuary in a way no one has ever done in their life. The darkest depths of his desire urge him to go beyond his protective Beta (and an almost ignition of his Alpha) instincts and keep them all to himself. 

With him, Darlin’ will be safe. With him, Darlin’ will feel rapture.

He’d been dreaming of this moment for so long, and he won’t give it up for anything, or anyone.

With that, his mouth turned into a snarl. "You're staying right fucking here," he snarled into their ear, the earlier growl escaping before he had a chance to reel it back. There was no way he was going to let them go that easily, insecurities be damned. His fingers dug into strong thighs and warm skin with the strength to bruise, trying to contain the storm of emotions at the idea that their future partner wasn't him.

"You're staying with me."

His words made their eyes go wide and guilty, almost like a fawn, and completely unlike their usual sharp, wolf-like features. Underneath his hands, he could feel Darlin’ tense up and he could hear their heart speed up. David wanted Darlin’ to forget about their concerns and his hesitance, and instead opting to fall completely under this trance he’s created for them.

But with a shake of their head, Darlin’ was able to look through the jealousy and anger to the part of David that was still new to all of this. They ran a hand through his hair, adoration dripping from their fingers, and watched some of the rage leave his body as his face relaxed. It wasn’t enough to let go of all of his complicated feelings, but it was a start.

“I’m serious,” they started again with that infuriatingly soft tone. “There’s no rush, and I don’t want you to force yourself to do something if you’re not a hundred percent ready for it.” 

(Watching David get possessive sent their heart soaring, but they needed to make absolutely sure that this was what he wanted. That they were who he wanted.)

David took a deep breath to clear his mind. He was completely out of his element, and the lack of knowledge and control of what happened next terrified him. But he was with Darlin’, and he trusted Darlin’ with his life and his heart, even if he wasn’t ready to give it to them. 

“I want this- I want you. It’s just…” His voice trailed off with embarrassment, but Darlin’ was able to catch on.

The sound of their laughter reassured him more than any words could. “We all start somewhere, David. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed about.” Their hands massaged his shoulders so that he could let go of some tension. “How about you tell me what you want to do, and I tell you how to do it. Sounds good?”

Part of him wanted to throw that idea into the void. He shouldn’t have to be told how to pleasure them, he should just be able to do it. How else can he prove himself as a worthy mate?

The weaker part of him wanted to give in and listen to every command that they gave him. That side ended up winning.

David took a deep breath, steadying his heart and calming his nerves. As much as it was a hit to his pride, it made logical sense for them to take control. He can’t pleasure them if he doesn’t know what to do. It would be a struggle to give up control to them, but he could do it. If they took the lead, then it would be ok. There was nothing they could do to hurt him. He trusted them. 

There was no one on this plane of existence that he would trust over them right now. Even if it seems like that trust isn’t reciprocated.

“I- I can do that. You can, I don't know, take control…” He cringed at his tone and choice of words. Milo, Ash and Darlin’ were able to string along the smoothest of pickup lines and dirty talk, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t emulate that same energy. Ugh, what an annoyance. 

David tried to save himself from utter embarrassment, trying to come up with something more appropriate. But all of his attempts left Darlin’ giggling, and as precious as their laugh was, this was not the situation he’d want to hear it in. 

They covered their mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry! You’re just being really fucking adorable right now.” They squished his cheeks with both of their hands. “I could eat you alive right now, you’re that cute, sugar.” 

With a scoff and an eye roll from David, Darlin’ knew it was their cue to put their hands back on his shoulders. There was a time for teasing, and there was a time for praise. “Hey, remember. Everyone starts somewhere.”

Everyone did indeed start from somewhere. But did everyone start with the love of their lives sitting on a pool table? Ready to let them guide him during this vulnerable point in his life?

What a lucky man he is.

“So tell me, sugar, what do you want to do?” Their concern melted away, now a hundred percent confident that this is what he wants. Darlin’ leaned back with one arm supporting their weight, taking a good look at him. David puffed his chest out, liking their attention on him. He was proud of the body he worked hard for and being used as eye candy for Darlin’. 

Their other hand played with the button of his jeans, making sure to avoid the bulge that had been there for a while. “Well…”

He rolled his shoulders back and placed an arm around their body, caging them on top of the pool table. He kissed them, adoring the way they melted into him and moaned softly against his lips. He slipped his tongue between their lips, making sure to caress every nook and cranny of their mouth. Once he was temporarily satisfied with his claim on their mouth, he ran his piercing over their teeth, relishing the clink that came from it.

Reluctantly, he parted away from their lips. He was entranced by their face, eyes trailing from their glowing cheeks and swollen lips. Beautiful. They were absolutely beautiful, even if they denied it. He was going to make sure that even if they didn’t care about him or his love, at the very least, he could provide some form of pleasure and love from his end.

“I want to put my piercing to the test.” He slid a hand underneath their shirt, grazing over their chest and adoring the way their body squirmed and stiffened. “Do you remember why I asked about it in the first place?” David placed his mouth on their neck, smirking at them flinching when the cold metal touched their warm skin.

Darlin’ held onto his shoulders to balance themselves. “Y-yeah, I remember.” 

He felt a violent groan vibrate in their chest and he knew that he teased them far too much for their liking. They grabbed onto the strands of his hair and yanked them back. Their doe-like eyes turned back into the wolf-like features that he was more familiar with. David had a feeling that he was about to become prey to be used to their liking. 

With a smirk, Darlin’ shoved his head back and growled in his ear.

“Get on your knees then, sugar. Show me what that mouth can do.”

Dazed by the tone of their voice, David got on his knees. Shaking with pleasure, he looked up at Darlin’s almost condescending aura. Being as tall as he is, he’d never had to look up at anybody. He quite liked this view, especially if it meant Darlin’ looks at him with those piercing eyes, gleaming with dominance and mischief.

Slowly, Darlin’ opened their legs with a lazy smile and beckoned him to come closer. “Come on, handsome. We don’t got all day and you’re the one who wants to put your mouth on me.” At this point, David’s heart was ready to combust all over the floor. How they casually made his heart soar and cock hard was something that needed to be studied.

He crawled over to Darlin’, finally in between their thighs and eyes level with their chest. Warmth and salvation coursed through his blood. He'd always thought that if heaven was a place on Earth, it would be between Darlin's legs. If he choked to death tonight, he would die a happy man.

Letting out a whistle, Darlin’ held his chin up, forcing him to look at them. “My, oh my, David. You look so pretty on your knees.” His cheeks went hot with embarrassment and every fibre of his body begged for him to refute their claims. But before he could look away and hide away in their thighs, their hold on his chin tightened and they let out a disappointed click of their tongue. “No, no, baby. You’re gonna keep those pretty eyes on me, is that clear?”

His head had officially gone blank and he nodded, willing to do anything that they would have asked him in that moment.

“Good boy, David. You’re doing amazing sugar.” They praised him in the sultry tone that made his knees weak. Luckily, he wasn’t standing or else he would have fallen over. 

His hands hover over their body, unsure of where to put them. He desperately wanted to hold their thighs again, or maybe their hips - honestly, he just wanted to touch his darling. But he knew that Darlin’ tends to balk at unexpected touches, even from dear friends. Then again, he’s also seen… videos where the more dominant partner just grabs their partner or partners with no hesitation. Should he do that? Or maybe wait for what they say? Or maybe…

Darlin’s eyebrow rose, queueing him that they noticed the glazed-over look in David’s eyes. They already knew that his mind was wandering in unnecessary places. “Oh David,” they drew out with their teasing voice, “I can’t be losing you already?” The hand in his hair and the other stroking his cheek brought him back to reality. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?”

He mustered up some of that fake confidence, hoping that it would translate into actual conviction once he put his mouth on them. There was no point in hiding what he desired, and right now, he craved to taste them and watch them fall apart under his tongue. Besides, he knew that no matter what, Darlin’ would never let him down. They have proven that fact time and time again, and he can trust them when he’s vulnerable and under their spell.

(Though not at his most vulnerable. He still has reservations about confessing to them, but those were more of his faults and none of his. Dare he say that they were perfect, from their perfect smile to their pristine white fur coat, and he was the unruly beast whose torture was to have everything he wanted just out of his reach. That won’t stop him. He’ll find the courage to hand them his bleeding heart, just not right now.)

(Hell was the other people who made Darlin’ smile, and he's going to rectify that fact sooner rather than later, but still later.)

“Where do you want my hands on you?” He softly ran his hands over their thighs. “You’re in control here.” Not that they needed reminding, given their eye roll.

They grabbed his hands, holding them in front of their face. Darlin’ ran a finger over every line on his palm, the gentle touch being enough to make him shiver. “Hmm, what to do with your hands?” Darlin’ pondered as they placed a kiss on each knuckle. If he wasn’t dying from how tempting they were, he’d be dying because of how adorable they were. 

Finally done with their pondering, though David has a feeling that they knew what they wanted him to do from the beginning, they put his hands on the buttons of their jeans. 

“Take them off, sugar.”

His mind raced in different directions, all of them leading to seeing the wolf in front of him in different directions. He knew this was going to happen, you can’t have sex with all your clothes on. But to actually see this - see them - is a whole other thing. And while the wolf in front of him would be more beautiful than whatever pitiful image his mind conjured up, he doesn’t think his heart will be able to survive to truly admire their beauty.

Deft hands unbuttoned their jeans, heeding the warning Darlin’ gave about ripping their clothes. If the image of their bare body wasn’t enough to drive him mad, his senses were overloaded with the scent of their arousal. He’d had whiffs of the intoxicating scent, after finding them in compromisable positions. This was different though. It was concentrated, it was overbearing in the best way, and it was all for him. Only him.

He wouldn't admit the possessive spark from deep in his heart that was born. 

After resisting the desire to rip their jeans off and carefully unbuttoning them, David held their hips, waiting for Darlin’ to give their next set of instructions. 

“Very good, David,” they moaned, giving his hair a good ruffle. They gestured to him to scooch back a little bit and jumped off the pool table. After stretching their back from sitting for so long, they put their hands on top of his. “It’s getting a little hot in here, don’t you think, sugar?” Without waiting for a response, Darlin’ guided David’s hands to take off their jeans.

To say that this was a dream come true would be an understatement. 

He could see the end of scars on their thighs that started from their hips, the birthmark and blemishes, and the bruises that he left behind. David makes a note to press harder for next time, just so he could leave darker marks on them. This being Darlin’, they make everything more difficult than it has to be, so of course they were pulling their pants and underwear down at a glacial pace. But he dare not defy the speed they set, both to not make them uncomfortable, or have them disappointed in him.

Finally, finally, Darlin’s jeans came off and they stepped out of them. There was no coherent thought in his head due to the sight and scent of them, except for them to allow him to put his mouth on them. He deserved it because he’s been waiting for so long. They deserved it because they deserve all the pleasure in this world.

And he was going to make sure he’d be the only person who could bring them that level of joy.

Hopping back onto the pool table, Darlin’ took off the rest of their clothes that they had on, leaving them naked in front of David.

Were they trying to kill him? It was already too much for him to see them without their pants on, but now they were taking off everything? Leaving nothing to his sorry imagination?

Vile, terrible, and wickedly cruel - the despicable, conniving wolf he fell in love with. He must be the luckiest man alive.

He eyed their body, taking in every detail for him to conjure up whenever he was alone. He couldn’t think of anything to say about them except for the fact that they were beautiful. That they were an angel sent from above as his salvation. Or maybe the devil who’d damn him to hell. In either case, he was ready to follow them wherever they may want to go. Including all the way to Vancouver for some fucking coffee.

(Darlin’s insecurities run rampant, that much isn’t a surprise. They never understood why anyone found them attractive, yet they always rolled with it. They were also known to throw caution to the wind and do some impulsive things. But even they were taken aback when they took off their own shirt. They were sure that David would have got up and left without saying another word.)

(They weren’t lying when they said David looks pretty on his knees. But the way he looked up at them almost reverently, like he was on his knees praying at a church, was doing too much to their fragile heart. Then again, it was David. And he wouldn’t do anything to hurt them.)

“Get back over here, sugar. There’ll be more time for you to touch this body later on,” they laughed and pulled his head closer. He was only a hair's breadth away from where they needed him the most. Scent makes up most of your taste, so he already knows that they will taste divine. Bodies entwined and his hands itching, he’s damn near dying to get his mouth on them. 

Darlin’ held his chin and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Can you open your mouth for me real quick? I just need to do something real quick, ok?” He had no idea what they were about to do. Was there a secret step that needed to be done that they didn’t show in the sex scenes he endured over the years? He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, so he opened his mouth, knowing they had everything under control.

He was certainly not expecting them to spit on his tongue.

David whimpered when their spit hit his tongue, which was drier than usual. Probably because their mouth is unnaturally warm and addicting. This wasn’t an unwelcome feeling though, and he’d love to see them spit on his cock later on. If he’s lucky tonight won’t be a one-time thing.

Manically grinning while watching their spit run down his tongue, they used their tongue to spread their spit on his piercing. He moaned, and when he tried to pull his head back because it was getting too much, Darlin’ gripped his chin tighter and pulled him in closer, practically shoving their tongue to the back of his throat.

They pulled back and hummed in appreciation at the sight in front of them. Satisfied by the blissed-out look in David’s eyes and the spit surrounding the piercing, Darlin’ smiled and blew gently on the metal. He felt a shiver down his spine and blood rushing to his cock, the slight cold being something he wasn’t used to but definitely wasn’t not welcoming. “Alrighty then,” they sighed and leaned back, still adoring the dazed expression on his face. “It feels better when the piercing’s cold.”

At this point, David wasn’t even sure he was paying much attention anymore. All he could think about was how he was burning to taste them, to drink down every drop of pleasure he could squeeze out of them, to drag them over that edge as many times as they demanded until they were spent and sated. But despite aching to bury his face in their thighs, he waited for their command. He’s done so good so far, he’s not going to disappoint them yet.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to be this patient, David,” they cooed while placing their thumb on his bottom lip. “Thought you would have gone feral by now and done whatever you wanted.” Oh, he was so close to his breaking point, but his resolve was strong for now. 

“Does my good boy finally want to put that pretty mouth to good use?”

David’s head perked up at the question, his eyes widening and mouth-watering. Nodding his head with a renewed vigour, he exclaimed, “Yes please!” His desperation was obvious to both him and Darlin’, and while he would never want to show too much emotion around them, wanting to keep his aloof Beta persona, he couldn’t give a damn right now. 

He was finally going to taste them, and it was going to be worth it.

Darlin’ giggled at his reaction. They knew he was desperate, but they didn’t think he was over the edge of composure. He bets that it was amusing to see their cold Beta be so open about his feelings. “You asked for it, pretty boy.” They took his hands and placed them on his thighs. “Can you put them on your shoulders? Pretty please.” Their voice was dripping with faux innocence but he saw right past it.

He picked up their legs and threw them over his shoulders, grinning at the moan Darlin’ let out. He may have done it a little more aggressively than necessary to make up for all the teasing, but that wasn’t the point, now was it? He felt the strong muscles cushioning his ears and heels digging into his back. His heavy breaths against them made them shake in his hold. He could see how they were dripping for him. It was nice to know that he had the same effect on them as they did on him.

Looking up from between his legs, he silently asked permission to use his mouth. With Darlin’s nod giving him the green light, he prodded at them with his tongue, trying to figure out what felt good for them. They shivered, the cold piercing doing exactly what they said it would, giving them an additional sensation to derive pleasure from.

He was right. They tasted divine and he was rapidly becoming addicted. David was fully prepared to give up his worldly duties in favour of becoming Darlin’s permanent seat. The warmth that radiated from their body had lit a flame in him that wasn’t going away. Not until he could see them fall apart around his mouth.

“F-fuck David,” they said through a string of moans. He could feel their thighs squeezing his head and hand tugging his hair, pulling his head closer, which meant he must be doing something right. He became emboldened to bury himself deeper, with his hands spreading them apart and pulling them closer. 

He noticed that every time he growled and moaned against them, Darlin’ would moan louder and at a higher pitch. The facade they created earlier was falling apart, and David was honoured that they would drop it around them. 

Through their moans and tensing body, they grabbed David’s hands from their legs and placed them on their chest. He looked up at them with confusion, until Darlin’ spoke up with a breathy voice. 

“Touch me, David. Don’t let your mouth do all the work.” He nodded, continuing to devour them with his tongue while also squeezing his chest. “Oh- shit, that’s it, sugar!” They were grinding themselves against his mouth and he was obsessed. He continued to grope their chest, pinching their nipples between his fingers to draw out every moan he could.

David could feel that they were getting closer. He couldn’t move his tongue more freely in them, and he almost thought that they were in pain. But the wanton moans and pleas they were letting out had clued him in that they were having as much fun as he was. If he wasn’t careful, he’d climax on his own and untouched just at the sight of their release.

With a growl, Darlin’ ripped a hand from his chest and guided him to stroke them. “Keep moving- shit- just like that,” they groaned, pushing his hands and face closer to them. He choked and moaned into them, deeply consumed into their entire being.

It was when Darlin’ let out a high-pitched moan and convulsed forward that he knew that he finally tipped them over the edge. Holding their hips to stop them from falling, he swallowed every bit of them that he could. Darlin’ leaned back, heaving like they were done with a marathon. David reluctantly pulled away, but the sight of them breathless and eyes blown out with lust was much worth it. He could always get on his knees again.

He slowly stood up with Darlin’s legs wrapped around his waist and his clothed chest against their bare one. David could see their doe-like eyes, elated over the fact that it was all because of him. He brought them that joy. He made them feel like they were walking amongst the stars. And he wishes that he could get on his knees again.

Making sure they calmed down enough to look him in the eyes, David wiped their slick off his mouth, licking the back of his hand to not waste a single drop. Darlin’s eyes never left him, and he heard their heartbeat speed up.

“That… that was hot.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say?” He questioned, without betraying the fear in his heart that he wasn’t up to their expectations.

Darlin’ rolled their eyes and in between their breathing, they huffed out, “Excuse me, sir. Let- let me catch my breath.” They closed their eyes and took a deep breath, looking the most serene they have looked in all of their time together. David memorized everything about them right now, afraid that he’ll never see this view again. 

(Darlin’, in their incoherent thoughts, was still able to deduce that giving David that tongue piercing was the best idea they could have come up with.)

They ruffled with his hair, giggling at the deadpan look David gave them. “You were amazing, sugar. Are you sure this was your first time?”

“We both know the answer to that,” he joked and leaned in for another kiss. But before his lips could touch his, he paused. Was this ok? He kissed them earlier, but that was before he made them come. Maybe now that they’ve gotten what they needed, they don’t want anything to do with him.

In his pondering, Darlin’ closed their eyes and the gap between them. He melted against their lips, placing a hand on their back to keep his steady. 

This time, the kiss was sweet. It didn’t have the urgency of lust from earlier. It was calm, like it was alright for him to get lost in them because they would help him through the fog. David didn’t know if that was his love-sick mind thinking that, or maybe that it might be the actual truth. 

Pulling away with a smile and laughing when David trailed after them, Darlin’ hopped off the pool table. Instead of picking up their clothes to put them back on, they pushed him against the table. “So handsome, is it your turn?”

David felt the heat rush down to his cock. There wasn’t a doubt in his brain that he wanted Darlin’, especially with them naked and smirking in front of him. He craved to make his fantasies into reality, wanting to inflict them with all the want and lust that he’d caused them over the years.

Maybe he could bend them over the pool table?

Push them against the wall.

Or maybe he'd take them to his room and drench their scent into his bed.

There was just one problem…

“If you don’t want to, I get it.” Darlin’s voice broke him from his trance. “I get it if you want to do it with someone you care about, and y’know, have it mean something, and like it’s just me so-”

“This does mean something to me,” he cut their rambling off. David has known that underneath their bravado and confidence, Darlin’ was often insecure about their excess amount of care. It was the thing he hated most about them. Nothing more angering and heart was breaking than watching them cut themselves off or ramble on an unnecessary excuse. He won’t have it, especially if he knows that they have nothing to worry about.

Darlin’ gave a blank stare and as David was preparing to repeat himself, they spoke, albeit without their usual confidence.

But before he could respond, Darlin’ looked down, hesitance and shyness crept into their voice. “You actually mean that?” Their question was laced with quiet want, or at least he hoped it was a desire for him. He prayed that they had been suppressing their feelings for him.

Lucky for them, he had that same longing, for this to mean more than what they thought the other wanted.

He held their jaw, tilting their head up to look into their pretty eyes. The lust from earlier turned into a softer love. Instead of being blown out with pleasure, the sharp angles of their face softened, their usual yet rare doe aura returning. As much as David wanted to deny the fact that Darlin’ could actually be in love with him, it was getting harder to deny when he could see his own desire reflected in their face. 

Unfortunately for them and everyone around them, Darlin’ and David adored the idea of plausible deniability. It was easier to assume that something isn’t true unless it’s being thrown into their faces. Although, they use this concept for different reasons.

For David, it was an annoyance for people to speak to him in riddles and code. He’d rather everyone just be straightforward with what they’re trying to say.

For Darlin’ it was harder for the cops to tie you to a crime if you’re seen smiling at the security cameras, or looking away from your best friend at the right time.

David leaned in, pressing his lips onto their forehead. They deserve a proper confession, and he wanted to give it to them. For now, this would have to be enough for both of them. It was more than they could ever crave. He pulled back, looking at Darlin’s eyes fluttering closed and they edged closer to him. It was a softer kiss than either of them expected from the other, but it was needed all the same. 

Darlin’ was used to throwing themselves full force into everything, always bracing for impact. David needed to prove to them and to himself that he would be there to cushion them. Because if he doesn’t, then who else will?

(His wolf howled selfishly at the thought of him being the only one taking care of them.)

Darlin’ wrapped their arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Breaking the kiss, they chuckled when David let out a little whine, following their lips to keep kissing them. 

“Well, if you’re game for it, so am I.” Whispering in his ear, they asked him, “Where do you want to do it, sugar?”

His mind and blood raced downwards, thinking about the many different fantasies that Darlin’ would make come true at this moment. Looking around the room, his eyes landed on the pool table behind them, and a bold idea entered his mind.

“I want you to ride me on top of the pool table.”

Silence filled the air and David thought that maybe he had gone too far. Fuck- fuck! Did he push it for his first time? Was Darlin’ uncomfortable with the idea, but was convincing themselves to go through with it so his first time would be perfect? Did they not know any first time with them would be perfect?

“I didn’t think you had it in you to ask that, baby Alpha?” They crooned, pushing his back against the pool table. Darlin’ stared into his eyes and held his shirt, only taking it off when David gave them the ok. Shirt on the ground, they stared at his torso, running their hands over his torso, resting them on his chest. 

“Holy fucking hell, Shaw.” David could see Darlin’s breath quicken and their eyes went wide, and he could hear their heartbeat pick up a little bit. He puffed his chest in pride seeing the trance Darlin’ was under. Thankfully not the normal trances they were used to.

Pouting like a child, their lips traced his collarbone, causing David’s knees to go weak. His hands went down to Darlin’s waist, debating on whether or not he should pull them closer. He didn’t have to make that choice, with them taking the initiative to push their bare body into his. “You’ve been hiding one hell of a body, Davey,” they smiled, kissing his neck and torso. 

 “Well you’re one- shit, to talk,” he choked out, squirming in his place. He pulled their head back, noting how Darlin’s voice went higher. Instead of looking him in his eyes, their gaze was fixed on the button on his pants. There was something in Darlin’ that was holding them back from ripping his jeans, he could see it in the way their nails dug into his thighs, a spark of pleasure and pain going through his body.

Not wanting to waste another minute, he took a deep breath and unbuttoned his own pants. If Darlin’ was waiting for him to be ready, he’ll show that he’s been waiting for this moment for as long as he’s known them.

Their hands let go of his thighs, grabbing onto the waistband of his pants and underwear to pull them down. He hissed as the air hit his bare and cold body. He couldn't decide if he should look at Darlin' or not, fearing that he would see disappointment in their eyes. So he kept his gaze low, baring himself in his entirety before the love of his life.

Darlin' didn't say a word, just quietly tracing their hands over his body. It was gentler than anyone would have expected from them. But the average person didn't know how Darlin' would hold themselves back to stop themselves from pouring too much of themselves, causing the other person to be overwhelmed. But David would do anything for the honour of drowning in their love.

"Look…" they pleaded, placing a hand under his chin to tilt his head up. He looked up slowly, his wide eyes meeting their tender expression. With a smile, they caressed his face with their hand. "You're so pretty, you know that right?" He knew that objectively, it's hard to ignore your looks when you have people gawking as if you're a Greek god. But being told and actually believing it were two different things.

With Darlin' though, their hands and body slotted against him like a puzzle piece, he feels pretty. Actually pretty. 

"Speak for yourself," he chuckled, butterflies filling his stomach. "You're beautiful, Darlin'." Because if he is pretty, then they were downright gorgeous. The sun in wolf form, blessed by Angels and saints that have long eluded him. Why ask for a guardian angel when he had Darlin' with him?

They rolled their eyes, a cocky expression on their face. "Sugar, I already know that." Not that it stopped the bashful smile on their face. Confidence surged through his body, he had the same effect on Darlin' as they did on him, and he would use it for the future.

Pushing the hair stuck on their sweaty forehead, he snarked, "all the more reason to call you beautiful, beautiful." His eyes were drawn to their lips as they bit them, desperately to tug on them with his own. So he did exactly that. 

Leaning forward to press his forehead onto theirs, he kissed their lips, holding the back of their head to pull them closer. David tilted his head, slipping his tongue inside of their mouth. He could feel their sharpening teeth and their little gasps and moans. David bit their lip while pulling away, relishing in the sharp breath they took.

A second of silence goes by before David spoke up, snapping Darlin' out of their daze. "Are you going to ride me, or do I need to fuck you myself?" It was false bravado and confidence that was dripping from his voice, but he didn't care. His cock was aching to be inside of them, now. 

They raised an eyebrow with a smile. "Hold on, let me grab something real quick." 

"I have condoms in my pants," he yelled out from behind them. He was sure that they didn't have any infections, knowing that they go to get regular checkups. And he definitely didn't have any, since, well, this was his first time. But a man could never be too safe, and David was ready to take any and all precautions.

"Not a condom, but thank you David!" They came back with a blanket, laying it on top of the pool table. "I don't want you to get road- er, pool-burned?" they mumbled to themselves, wondering if that was the right choice of words. But they shook their head because they thought that this was the wrong time to think about word choices. For David's sake at least.

He moved to place himself in front of the blanket, pulling them alongside him by their waist. "Thank you, beautiful."

"No problem, sugar," they cooed, playing with his hair. They took a condom from his pocket, ripping it open with their teeth. Carefully, they unrolled it over David's cock, going slowly to not overstimulate David.

(Not yet, at least.)

With some of that earlier confidence, David leaned back against the table. "You know, I think you're full of shit, Darlin'." He wondered that if he egged them on enough, they'd finally do something to him, relieving some of the desperation pooling in his stomach.

He froze under their steely gaze and arched eyebrows. "Really, you think so?" Their voice went from warm and caring to cold and detached. It should have made him step back, but he kept going.

He stood taller and leaned over them. "All this time, and you haven't done shit but just talk." He squeezed their ass and pushed them against the pool table. "Maybe I should show you how it's done," he whispered into their ear, kissing and biting their neck.

For a moment, David could have deluded himself into thinking that he would actually be able to take control of this moment.

That was until Darlin' pushed him back with a hand on his throat. "Oh, aren't you precious, little Alpha?" A dark chuckle and a darker look were all it took for David's knees to get weak, ready to get onto the ground and be obedient to Darlin'. 

Before he could agitate them further, Darlin' picked David up by his thighs, turning around and laying him down on top of the blanket. "You were saying, Davey? Something about me just 'talkin' shit'?" They climbed onto the pool table, hovering over David. 

David needed control like he needed his magic to shift. It was weird being under someone, and he had half the mind to push them off him. But it's Darlin'. They won't let anything bad happen to him.

"Well?" Their voice shook them out of their thoughts. "You said you wanted to tell me what to do?" They leaned forward so they were chest to chest, forehead to forehead. "So tell me, sugar?" 

Darlin's glare was enough to make his throat dry, words in Spanish and English leaving his brain. To make it worse, their hand gently played with the head of his cock, finding wicked joy in his struggle. The light pressure made his head spin, but every time he'd raise his hips to grind against their hand, Darlin' would push him back down.

"That's not what I asked you to do, sugar," they mocked with fake pity. A firm squeeze to his head was all David needed to cry out, but it didn't deter the wolf. "I asked you," they paused to kiss his neck, trailing up to whisper in his ear, "what do you want me to do?"

His mind had a million options wishing to spill out between parted lips. He wanted their hand, but he also wanted their mouth with lips stretching around him as they took him down their sinful throat. He wanted them, under him, over him, with their nails digging into his shoulders...

But what he offered them was a growl that melted into a whimper when he realized he'd take anything at all if it meant they didn't stop.

Hips threatened to buck up into their grasp to get even a fraction more of their touch, but they kept true to their word and waited. Another growl left him, of frustration this time. It ended the same as the first did, though words followed as his body burned for more. 

"Please, need you to..." 

A hum left their lips, dancing in the air.

David knew they had to be getting some sick enjoyment from this. He also knew the thought alone had him growing harder against their palm, but their tongue swiping along their lower lip showed it was a welcome discovery. 

Rolling his head back, he groaned and felt like he was about to burst from the sight alone. 

"Just ride me already," he hissed, a choked breath leaving him when they shifted their hand ever so slightly. "Fuck, please ride me. Need it. Need you..." he rambled, relieved when he lifted his head and found himself staring into blown pupils. 

Taking mercy on him, Darlin' let go of their cock, smiling at his flustered state. They leaned back, admiring the mess that they made him. "Now was that so hard, hm?" They sat back onto his cock, grinding against it to make sure he was ready for them. He held onto their hips, both in a plea for them to go faster and to hold himself steady.

Deeming him ready for that sweet release, they moved up onto their knees, holding onto his cock to keep him still. "Are you ready?" they asked gleefully, stroking his cock to make sure he was slick and ready for them. 

He couldn't find the words to say yes though. Not because he was having second thoughts, but because he couldn't believe his situation right now. Darlin', the wolf he's been in love with since they joined the pack, was willing to have sex with him. There'd always been a part of him that was scared to ask them out, fearing they'd only say yes due to his position as Beta and the Alpha's son. But seeing that familiar determined look was all he needed to know that his dreams were coming true.

(Darlin' was also in shock at what was happening as well. As the Alpha's son, surely David had better options than them? They were proud of who they were and where they came from, but there was always a nagging voice in their brain that told them otherwise. Where David had been raised in white picket fences, Darlin' had been raised surrounded by metal cages. It was no secret that from the way they talked (and how they hid it) to the way they dressed, they were both from fundamentally different worlds.)

(But seeing David with needy eyes and a loving gaze made them feel like they belonged. Actually belonged. And that maybe, home wasn't limited to snowy streets and gray skyscrapers. It could also be in the arms of their best friend.)

Somehow, David was able to find his voice again, and all he whispered was yes, over and over again, while nodding his head vigorously.

Darlin' chuckled at his eagerness, slowly lowering themselves onto him. "What my future Alpha wants, is what he gets," they murmured with a breathless sigh, watching his cock disappear inside of them. They took their time to let themselves adjust to his size before they sank to the base with a sharp inhale, arching their back and digging their nails into his heated skin.

Holy fuck. Holy shit. This was actually happening. 

David held his breath as they tightened around him, watching as their eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. That had to be a good thing, right? He hoped it was. Hell, he currently felt like he was on cloud nine and they hadn't even moved yet. How long would he even last?  

Oh God, he couldn't come too quickly. That'd be too embarrassing.

He pinched himself, just to make sure that he wasn't stuck in another wet dream. He wasn't. This was very real. And when he felt Darlin' shift around him, he was finally convinced that this was very, very real.

"Ok, I'mma start moving, but—," they began, taking deep breaths to keep their voice steady, “—if you need this to stop…for me to stop, you need to tell me." 

David rolled his eyes at their warning, lips parting to retort only for his words to die on his tongue when they held his face in their hands. Darlin’ stared into his eyes, making sure he was staring back before continuing. 

"I'm serious, David. You wanna stop? You tell me. Alright?"

He nodded as he swallowed roughly, doing his best to keep his breaths somewhat even. It was hard to focus on anything apart from how well they were taking him and the fact this was only the beginning. His impatience was slowly eating away at him, even more so as he took in the sight of them on top of him like some sort of ethereal god. 

David would be more than happy to get on his knees for them again if they ever asked. 

“I need to hear you, David. You never had an issue mouthing off before…so use those words of yours. Tell me you understand.” 

The urge to bare his teeth was forced down as he cursed under his breath, nodding but adding what they’d been so keen on pulling out of him. 

“Yes, yes, I understand,” he groaned, thighs tensing when Darlin’ shifted ever so slightly. They would be the death of him, he was sure of it, but at least it’d be a hell of a way to go. “I’ll tell you what I need and right now I need you to move. So, please—” 

A shudder left Darlin’ as they offered a smile that had his pulse stuttering before returning to its concerningly quick pace. 

“Good boy.”

David didn't have time to process their praise, too focused on the feeling of them rising and sinking onto his cock without warning. Whether he whimpered or not he'd never admit, their movements lighting a fire in his gut. If this was how he felt when they were taking it slow, he wasn't sure he'd last long with what was no doubt still in store for him. 

Giggling at David's reaction, they couldn't help but offer a mocking coo. "Aw, is my little baby close already?" Their words were followed by a shift of their hips, lifting enough until only the tip of him was inside them. This time, there was no hiding the whine that tore from his throat, a smirk growing from their once gentle smile. "I don't know how long you're going to last, Davey. Let's find out, hm?"

It was the only warning he got before Darlin' started moving at a steady pace, moving in slow yet forceful motions. They put enough strength to make sure he felt everything he could have ever dreamed, but slow enough for it to be agonizing, making him beg for more. It was enough to have him writhing on the pool table, one hand gripping onto the edge and the other on their thighs, holding on for dear life. 

Pushing up with what strength he could garner, he pressed his lips to their own with a soft groan, arms wrapping around their waist and pulling them closer. He needed their body pressed to him: needed to feel their core so his own could melt into it until only one remained. He had spent so long thinking of what it would be like to have them this way. He'd be a fool not to savour it for as long as he could. "

They stopped, surprised by the kiss. After the initial shock faded, their arms moved around his neck, hands playing with his hair, pressed flush into his chest. Any time they tried to pull away, David would growl, either pulling them back or following their lips to capture them again. He wasn't ready to let go of them. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to let go of them again.

Without breaking the kiss, Darlin' started to bounce on his cock, swallowing up any moans from David's mouth. He could barely register the creaking table beneath them, too focused on watching their head roll back, showing off their very kissable neck. God, he wished he had the strength to sit up and bite them. But Darlin's weight on his lap paralyzed him, unable to find the core strength to hold them flush against him. All he could do was grip their hips to hold them steady and keep kissing them. He felt his teeth sharpen, aching to bite them and be bitten by them.

Going off of instincts, he began to thrust up into them, desperately trying to match the pace that they set. "You're so goddamn tight!" He whined while mindlessly fucking them, hands on hips helping them move faster.

"Oh, really Davey?" They asked with a breathless laugh. How Darlin' was able to keep their composure was a mystery to him, especially with the way they tightened even more around him, enough to have him choking out strings of profanities at the sensation. "You close, babyboy?" 

He could feel himself closer to the edge, but couldn't form words to say it, losing his sanity with every second that went by. The pool table started to shift in place, moving back with every movement and he couldn't help but fall further into their spell. He relished in the quiet moans that he was able to get out of them, but he wanted more. He wished that they were louder, and craved to have them screaming his name, but he was so focused on his own pleasure that he failed to realize how close he'd become.

"Darlin'- I'm so close-" He choked out between moans, fingers borderline drawing blood from their hips. He felt the unfamiliar washing over him, and he chased it with great desperation. Mindless and borderline feral at the feeling of Darlin' clenching around him, his hips stuttered, the feeling so overwhelming that he couldn't keep a steady pace. His muscles felt tight and he was choking on his rapture, barely able to breathe or speak or move.

It brought him joy to know that Darlin's composure was slowly slipping away, their growls slowly devolving into broken wails. They have always been the picture of composure, not even letting their anger be shown on their face aside from a quiet, cold, fury. He treasured the privilege of seeing them let go of themselves and just feel. Their strong thighs clamped around his hips to keep them both steady, and their nails scratched his chest. He was ready to wear their marks proudly the next day. 

"I know, David- shit," they moaned, tilting their head back with their eyes shut. Sweaty and incoherent, he's never seen them more beautiful than at this moment. One where either of them can break at a moment's notice. Even now, they matched David's thrusts, focused on making sure he didn't do all the work and focused on a good first time.

Pleasure and desperation mixing together, David snapped, his core reaching out to grab onto theirs. Blood filled with ecstasy and head ringing with the sound of his moans, he didn't feel the magic that surged through him. It was only when Darlin' screamed, head thrown back and back arching beautifully, that he realized something was wrong.

"FUCK!" they yelled out, their body going limp on top of him and falling backwards. He grabbed onto them and placed them onto his chest, giving each other a chance to breathe before moving. He pushed the hair stuck on their forehead, looking into their dazed eyes. He felt himself falling in love with them all over again.

Careful to not overstimulate either of them, Darlin' pushed themselves off David's chest. He whined, liking and wanting them to stay on his chest for as long as the waves would long for the moon. They rolled their eyes, laughed breathlessly and with a hoarse voice, they asked, "was that good?" 

There were no adjectives, verbs, adverbs or descriptors that could describe how that felt, so he supposed 'good' would have to suffice. 

David was never a religious man. Sure, he went to church like the good son he was to make his father happy, and he's not above a little prayer to get through a difficult slump. Despite all of that, he could never understand what it meant to have a religious experience, an event that was so miraculous that the only explanation was that a higher power rewrote the fabric of the universe in order to let it happen.

He was convinced that Darlin' was that higher power. The only one he'd worship from here on out.

Feeling his vocal cords functioning again, his strained voice responded. "Was more than good, beautiful," he said while playing with their hair. 

"Good, I'm glad," they sighed in relief. "I do have a question…" Their voice trailed off with a little bit of uncertainty.

"What is it?" 

"Did you-" they cut themselves with a chuckle. "Did you mean to half-shift in me?"

David's eyes went wide while his mouth spewed out apologies. He knew how painful it can be to have anything inserted into your body, always cringing at those who claim that 6 inches was not enough. But to have one suddenly grow bigger inside of them, even for a split moment, sounded awful. 

Given that he was quite a large wolf, even for his young age, it made sense that all parts of his body grew proportionally.

Placing a hand on his chest to calm him down, Darlin' laughed off his concern. "It's fine, I promise. Hurt for a little bit and don't think I'd be down for that again, but it felt really good." Their voice emphasizing the pleasure over the pain eased his nerves, glad that they did like it, unexpected as it was. "Just give me a heads up next time, ok?" They jest with a smile.

So there will be a next time. Yay for him!

"Of course," he said before leaning closer to whisper in their ear. "I'll make sure to shift before I fuck you instead."

They shivered at David's admission. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Shaw," they rolled their eyes before slowly coming off of his lap to sit beside him. David hissed at the loss of contact, out of overstimulation and the desire to keep them close for even longer.  

Sitting by his side, they both basked in the familiar silence that accompanied them for their shared lives. Darlin' laid his head on his shoulder and David wrapped an arm around their waist. In many ways, things were the same. Yet everything was different now.

"You should go to bed, David." They rest their chin on his shoulder to look at him. "You must be tired as shit right now." Completely ignoring that they looked like they were going to fall asleep at any moment. 

"You're right, I should go to bed." He felt more alive and awake than he ever has, but with the way Darlin' was slumped over, he figured that the best way to get them to bed was to sleep himself. 

He picked Darlin' up bridal style, careful to not strain any of their muscles and ignoring the yelp of surprise he gave them.

"What are you doing?" Curiosity and uncertainty filled their voice, yet they buried their face into his chest, slowly dozing off in the process.

"We're both going to bed." Before he could whine in protest, insisting that they weren't tired and could go home in their state, David kicked open the door to their childhood bedroom and laid them on his bed. Running to the bathroom he grabbed a washcloth to clean himself and Darlin' before they headed to bed.

Their eyes tracked his every move, he wondered if he was doing anything wrong. Maybe the cloth was too rough? Or maybe they didn't want to come to his bed?

"You know, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, since this is you're the virgin- excuse me, ex-virgin," they snarked from the bed.

He flicked their forehead at their comment. "Shut up and let yourself be cared for, you stubborn dick." He grabbed a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants for the both of them, throwing Darlin's set at their face and laughing at their exasperated expression. But it didn't stop them from putting his clothes on.

The sight of Darlin' in his clothes and dozing off in his bed, his scent mixing with his, was enough to make his wolf go feral. He's no stranger to the hardships Darlin' faced in their life, always concerned for when they went after the shady people they called family. Sure, it was clear they cared for them, but if they really loved Darlin', they wouldn't drag them into such dangerous situations.

It wasn't in them to say no to a friend's request though, so David supposed that he may have to be the one to keep them safe.

(Realistically, he knew Darlin' would hate that. The idea of another person making their decisions and dragging David into a danger he had no reason to be involved in would eat them alive. But forgive him, he's a boy - nay, a man - in love trying to keep his future mate alive long enough to call them his mate. You can't really do that with a dead person, despite other's insistence.)

Clothes on, he slipped beside Darlin'. Immediately, they moved back to give him space, much to his chagrin. He pulled them against his chest, a hand behind their neck to keep them close. "You just sent me to heaven and back, and now you won't cuddle with me?" Resting his chin on top of their head, he finished his thought with a laugh. "Rude."

He expected a snarky comment back from them, maybe a joke about how he was an asshole. He didn't expect brutal honesty from them.

"I didn't think you'd want to." Their voice was muffled from being pressed against David's chest, but he could still hear the apprehension in their words. He held them tighter, hopefully conveying to their stubborn brain that he did want them with him.

They fought back against his hold to look him in his eyes. "Most people don't really want to cuddle after fucking," they huffed and it filled David with anger. Who in their right mind would be blessed with the chance to sleep next to them, only to throw it away because they got what they wanted? How many times did Darlin' want to be comforted only to feel used like a toy?

He shook his head of those thoughts. It didn't matter anymore, he'd hold them for as long as they asked for it.

"Well I want you, Darlin'." His arms pushed them back into his heart. Before they could pointlessly argue, he gently scratched their scalp. Just as he thought, their breathing slowed down and head went limp against his pillow. "Now shut up and go to sleep," he chided with love and care.

They couldn't go to sleep without having a final word. 

"Are we," they yawned and rubbed their eyes, "are we… a thing?"

With conviction, he corrected them. "We're more than just a thing, Darlin'. But don't worry about that now." Yawning himself, he laid his head on his pillow and almost knocked out immediately. He was able to hear the last thing they said before succumbing to dreams.

"...love you, David."

'I love you too, Darlin'.'

–

He's a little concerned by the clothes left behind in his living room. Not because David shouldn't be having sex at his age, but because they couldn't have at least cleaned up after themselves? Really?

Carefully walking around the living room to not wake up the younger wolves, he headed to the kitchen to make some food for the two. Knowing those fools, they haven't eaten anything all day, being too busy with other things to remember to eat. Something small would be enough to get them some energy back.

He passed by the pool table, noticing the blanket on top of it. He feared the worst, not wanting to imagine what had happened there earlier. The scratches were too noticeable and the wobbly leg made it all too true. Great, he'll need to call the carpenter to fix the table. Or build him a new one.

It looked like someone else had the same idea, watching David roll out some dough. Love is stored in the pupusa indeed.

"You remember to replace the pork with beef, right?" His voice spooked his son, amused at him jumping 10 feet in the air. It was a little concerning to see him so unaware of his surroundings, it was because it was out of love. Sue him, he's happy that his son is happy. 

"Yeah- yeah, I did." David kept his head turned away from Gabe, most likely out of embarrassment of being caught. 

Satisfied by his answer, he leaned back to observe his son. David seldom cooked, citing a lack of time and energy to do so. That didn't mean that he didn't know the basic recipes, he just never made them. Not that Gabe ever minded, he was always happy to cook for his son. But of course, he'd pick up the knife for Darlin', especially since they could cook up a mean meal whenever they felt like it.

There was another thing that was off. David's hoodie wasn't his. Sure it fit him perfectly, but last time he checked, he went to high school in Dahlia, their mascot was not the Eagles.

"Who's hoodie is that?" He was curious to see where this went, and whether David knew what he was wearing.

David turned back to his father for the first time, looking at him with a confused stare. 

"It's mine, obviously…" His voice trailed off when he looked down, realizing his mistake. David went to Dahlia Collegiate and Technical Institute, and their mascot was the Dire Wolves. He should remember considering how many jokes were made at the pack's expense.

While Darlin' did graduate from DCTI, that wasn't their first high school. Their old school's mascot did happen to be an eagle… And they did like their clothes on the bigger side…

Gabe laughed, watching realization cross his son's face. When before he had some plausible deniability, now it was outright obvious what they had done. Finally.

He walked to David and patted him on the back. "There's nothing to be ashamed about, and I know how long you've been in love with them." He decided not to reveal Darlin's feelings just in case they hadn't confessed yet. Knowing these two, they've probably gone to bed before telling each other how they feel. 

David's shoulder slumped at his father's words. "I know, I know, but I just," he sighed, defeated by his own emotions. "I just don't want to fuck up with them."

"And you won't," Gabe reassured. "You're a good man who wants to do right by them. As long as you follow your heart, you won't mess anything up."

David groaned at the advice. "That's easier said than done," he pointed out. For David, making rational decisions with his head always trumped going with his heart, but unfortunately, love doesn't follow the rules and logic of rationality.

"You need to understand that when it comes to love, neither of you can control everything. A relationship is give and take, sometimes you're in control, sometimes you're not. It's scary, and I know for both of you this sounds like the worst thing ever. But you owe it to each other to at least try." 

The crockpot alarm goes off. "Are you willing to see Darlin' happy with someone else?"

He could see the alarms go off in David. "No-"

"Then try," he pleaded with David. "You both are good for each other. And you both deserve good things."

Walking past David to the crockpot to see if the beef had been cooked properly, he waited for David to come to his own conclusion. It can be tempting to spell out the answers, especially when it's as obvious as this is. But as a father and as Alpha, he needs to make sure that David can make his own decisions and live with those consequences. 

Gabe won't be around forever, and he needed to learn how to be his own man.

Silently joining him, David goes back to rolling out the dough. The determined look on his face was his answer, and he can't wait to see where it will lead.

He leaned over to whisper in David's ear.

"Can you please clean up after yourselves next time? I don't want to see your dirty clothes all over the living room."

Gabe's laughter at the expense of David's humiliation was loud enough to wake Darlin' from his bed.

[alwaysandforevergifs]

Loving any of us is a death sentence, isn't it?

[washeduphazbin]

Hello! I really loved the Adam x Reader Wife interaction hehehe reminds me too much of the dialogue: -You're an Idiot. -Yes... But I'm YOUR idiot... And forever 😌 Can we see a little more of this relationship?

You ABSOLUTELY can because it's the only thing on my mind since writing it. This will mostly be snippets of fluff between Adam and a female reader from my last one-shot. This is much shorter, but I wanted to give more of this dynamic before I work on a bit of a longer request someone sent in for them during the finale.

TLDR: Welcome to the Adamverse

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"So this absolute cunt really thought it'd be okay to take one look at me and suggest that those Losers in hell can really make it into heaven and be redeemed!" You hummed as Adam sat with his head in your lap, complaining about his musical meeting with Charolette Morningstar. He looked up at you through his black lashes with a pout on his lips; you very clearly weren't paying attention. You had a book in your hands, which was taking more of your attention than Adam was taking up.

Now, that was something he couldn't let happen.

Your book was thrown halfway across the room in one swift movement, "Adam." You huffed, looking down at his innocent face, twirling his brown hair around his finger.

"Reading will rot your brain." He brought a clawed hand to his head and made a crazy motion against his temple.

"Pretty sure you've got that backward, darling." You felt his wings shiver under your touch as you stroked them tenderly, finally giving him your undivided attention. He stretched out in your lap like an oversized cat; Adam hummed pleasantly,

"Readings for losers, and my wife is not a loser." He shot back, yelping as you tugged on one of his feathers. "You bitch, the fuck was that for!"

"You seem to forget how much your bitch wife loves to read fuckhead." You shot back with a dirty look,

"Jesus, what's got your panties in a twist! I'm the one who had a rough day. First, I got blue balled and couldn't get to finish inside your sweet pus, and then I had to go to the most painful meeting of my life with the biggest doe-eyed fool I've met since her father. Now my wife is ignoring me when I'm clearly in distress." He watched in amusement as you tossed your head back with a sigh; you...his favorite winner. You caught the softer look in his eyes as you glanced down at him,

"Adam, you know I love you more than anything."

"I'm aware of how great I am, yes- if you keep giving me those bedroom eyes, I'm not going to be able to hold back."

"Glaring Adam. I'm glaring at you. I in no way want to fuck you right now."

"Impossible. No one ever glares at me AND no one ever doesn't want to fuck the fuck master; I'm a goddam delight, sugar."

He watched you take a deep breath of air in, "You did not just call yourself the 'fuck master.'"

"Ugh, duh, of course, I did. I am the fuck master. I've never heard you complain about this dick babe."

"You're an idiot."

"Ugh, duh. But I'm your idiot, forever." He mused, wiggling his fingers with his wedding ring on it. "Because you're gross, and you love me,"

"Unfortunately."

"HEY!" He sat up, brows furrowing in frustration. His jaw was set in a way you only recognize as a moment of slight panic and stress. "The fucks that supposed to mean?" You sucked in a small intake of breath, cupping his cheeks between your palms. He glared at you but still nuzzled against the soft palms of your hands.

"Darling." You spoke softly, moving to rest your forehead against Adam's, "I love you. I wouldn't want to be with any other person in heaven, hell, or on earth." His eyes softened, and you could see his face drop, "You're annoying as hell. But so am I; that's like our thing." You gave a crooked grin, nuzzling your nose against his, only to nuzzle his nose right back against yours. "I love you and that you're trying to keep everyone here safe and protected."

"I am; I want to keep you safe. You don't belong down there with them, and they don't belong here with us." He nodded rapidly, "You're so...good."

"You're giving me far too much credit, I didn't do drugs, and I didn't kill anybody when I was alive. I wasn't like a saint."

"You're a saint to me." You felt your cheeks burn, and you hit Adam gently with your wings; you saw his face light up and snicker. "What? You are. My saintly wife," You let out a strangled sound of embarrassment as he began to pepper kisses against your face. "Who's so good at praying on her knees-"

"And you ruined it." Adam tossed his head back in a laugh, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed as he nuzzled his face into your breasts, “Adam?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Jason is a hopeless romantic 100%

it just doesnt show

But everyone goes to him whn its time to plan dates

Dick: Hey, can I ask you something?

Jason, reading: No.

Dick: You see, Wally and I have our weekly date night coming up, but we've been to pretty much every place there is. You got any ideas for how to shake things up?

Jason: *scribbles coordinates and tosses him the Bat-plane keys*

[later]

Wally: Wow, I've never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Dick: I'm glad you like it.

Dick: *texts Jason a thumbs up*

Jason: *read at 8:55 PM*

———————

Tim: Jason, glad you're here! I totally forgot it's me and Bernard's six-month anniversary. Help me out, man.

Jason, clipping his toenails: Fine. You better write this down 'cause I'm only saying it once.

Tim: *nods*

Jason: Go to Home Depot. You're gonna need some rope, a tarp, hammer and nails, a hatchet, matches, and fuel. After that...

Tim: *furiously takes notes*

[later]

Bernard: A camping trip was a great idea. It's nice to get away from it all. And I can't believe you set this all up yourself.

Tim, chuckling nervously: What's a boyfriend for if not to build a tent and chop down a tree?

———————

Duke: So the school dance is coming up.

Jason, working: Theme?

Duke: Under the sea.

Jason: Ugh, how cliché. Anyway, Armand's Tailoring has a blue suit that'll match whatever your girlfriend's wearing. Tell him I sent you. After that, call Patricia's Bistro and make a reservation with the code word "surreptitious." Alfred can take you in the limo if you give him a 24-hour heads-up to clean it. Once you're there, remind the DJ he owes me a favor to get your song requests bumped up. And remember, a slow dance is basically moving your feet in a square but otherwise go with the flow.

Duke: Sweet, thanks!

———————

Cass: Steph is sad.

Jason, cooking: *sighs*

Jason: *takes out a tub of ice cream*

Jason: *scoops a hole in the middle*

Jason: *fills it with candy*

Jason: Here.

Cass: Thanks!

———————

*phone rings*

Jason, waking up from a nap: What?

Kory: Sorry if I woke you. Barbara's coming over for breakfast in half an hour but I burned it with my powers. It was supposed to be eggs benedict.

Jason: Order takeout and put it on fancy plates.

Kory: You're a lifesaver—

Jason: *already hung up and went back to sleep*

———————

Kate: It's Renee's birthday tomorrow. I have a gift, but I'm not sure if it's good enough.

Jason, polishing his gun: If it's from you, it will be.

———————

Bruce: *walks in*

Bruce: Hey, son. Selina's not talking to me after our argument. How do I tell her how much she means to me?

Jason, reciting Shakespeare: I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, "I love you."

Bruce: You're right. I'm just gonna tell it to her straight. Thank you.

Bruce: *leaves*

Jason: *takes off his headphones and turns around*

Jason: Did someone say something?

———————

Damian: Todd, what is love supposed to feel like?

Jason: Why do you want to know?

Damian: None of your concern. Now tell me.

Jason: *shoots a training dummy*

Jason: It's when they're lodged in your head like a bullet. Except without the excruciating pain and messy red stuff.

Damian, nodding: Tell me more.

———————

Roy: *takes down a villain*

Jason, sitting on a roof: *wolf whistles*

Roy: The hell?

Jason: I know hot when I see it.

Roy: What are you doing here?

Jason: I brought Arrowdogs.

Roy: You hate Arrowdogs.

Jason: But you don't.

Roy: Aw, how sweet—EYES UP HERE, TODD!

[earthtooz]

x : BANDAGED HEART :*+ﾟ

in which: blade finds out you're injured and can't contain his anger.

warnings: gn!reader x protective!blade, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, 'who did this to you?' trope with blade LOL, slight manhandling, did i mention that he's protective?

a/n: blade debut, omg? this sucks btw but this was inspired by this comic that i saw the other day :> it just reminded me that the 'who did this to you' trope existed and i went YES and took my own spin onto it so, i hope you enjoy!

the smell of antiseptic wafts heavily through the air, bandages sit tightly rolled beside you, and you hiss at the sting of the antibacterial ointment slathered over the open wound on your arm. 

it hurts. 

blinking the tears away and gritting your teeth to bear with the pain, you reach for the unused roll, clumsily unravelling them with shaking hands and a blurring vision.

“oi.” a raspy voice from behind catches you off guard and you turn around from where you’ve seated yourself in the corner of the medical wing, having helped yourself to a supply of ointment and bandages. 

a familiar swordsman and fellow coworker towers above you, glowering at you through the streaks of his bangs. maybe if you weren’t on the verge of fainting, you’d have the energy to fear him.

“oh, it’s just you,” you mutter, “can i help you?”

his eyes glance you up and down, as if scanning you for any indication of misadventure. feeling uneasy under the intensity of his gaze, you return to trying to rip the bandages with bare hands since you had not brought scissors or even a blade with you in your haste. 

feeling the blood from your wound drip down your arm and onto the floor beneath you, you cringe, hurrying up so you don’t make a mess. this whole patching-yourself-up-thing should have been easy, but without something sharp and half your strength evaporated after a gruesome mission, it was much harder than usual. 

the growing frustration you were feeling was not offering much aid either, and with blade practically towering over you, you try not to let your fluctuating anger overwhelm you. 

aeons, it was as if you were sent on this mission with elio praying for your downfall. you’re lucky that you managed to get out with only a scratch on your arm and a missing weapon. it’s going to be hard finding a replacement for it, but when you just looked death in the face, you can’t say you have much to complain about that a weapon was the only thing you lost. 

suddenly, two hands sneak underneath your arms to lift you up, breaking your train of thought with a tight, unforgiving grip as you’re effortlessly placed onto a hospital bed right beside you. meeting the ruby eyes of the swordsman, your breath lodges uncomfortably in your throat, and you have to rip your gaze away from him; the intensity would paralyse you otherwise. 

“where are you hurt?” he asks, sounding more like a demand than a question. 

“i can do it myself,” you grumble. blade takes the bandage out of your hands, holding back your wrist that instinctively reached out to grab it back. the glare he shoots you from the corner of his eye placates any complaint you have.

“show me.”

reluctantly, you present your injured arm. he mutters a very quick and quiet ‘stay here’ before stalking off. a faucet is turned on, water begins running from a nearby sink, and blade returns with a wet cloth. 

grabbing your wounded arm, he cleans around the area, rubbing the blood that has trickled down your arm as well. he’s scarily gentle with you, attentive to your every wince and hiss, halting momentarily every time you let a noise slip. 

he makes quick work of patching you up, flawless and effortless in his technique. makes sense, you suppose, since he is covered in these. 

you wonder how many times he’s had to do this on himself. a small part of your heart aches thinking about it.

“thank you,” you whisper when he’s done, gratitude silently swirling inside you. grabbing the bandages and cloth, you slide off onto your feet. “i’ll put these away.” 

stepping in front of you, his body intercepts your path and you’re pressed against the bed, frozen under him. there’s an indescribable look of fury in his eyes, his red eyes seeming even angrier than usual. 

“what happened?” he asks.

you have hold yourself up, suddenly weak in the knees. “just a typical mission, it’s nothing you should worry about.”

the fellow stellaron hunter does not look satisfied with your response. “what do you mean ‘nothing you should worry about’? who did this to you?” he asks, punctuating each word with a dark expression. 

“blade- please, can we not talk about this right now?” you mutter, “i’m tired and i just want to sleep.”

he narrows his eyes. “who. hurt. you?”

“why? what can you do about it now?”

“kill them.”

you scoff. “yeah, right.”

blade wedges a leg between yours, hindering your escape even further by leaning himself closer to you. “i’m serious.”

“so am i. if you’re thinking about hunting them down, then please, don’t bother. let it go.” you mutter.

“but you got hurt.” 

“i get hurt all the time.”

his brows scrunch together, a small indication of the dangerous protectiveness growing within him. you interrupt his train of thoughts, placing a brave hand on his chest; right over his heart. ‘i’m fine. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“i’m not worried,” he grumbles lowly. 

“oh. i see.”

he grabs your hand and takes it away from his chest, holding you gently. “i’m angry that you got hurt.”

you’re speechless, blinking at the swordsman who raises your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. it feels like a promise- not that you know what said promise is, but with that look in his eyes, you know it’s not a peaceful one. 

“so why don’t you tell me the truth? who did this to you?”

the answer slips past your lips before you can help it and when the words are spilled, a creeping guilt invades you. whatever he’s planning, you know that bloodshed will follow.

“see, that wasn’t so hard.”

in a blink of an eye, blade is gone, taking the intense pressure with him. he left so quickly that you wonder if he was ever here to begin with. the lingering brush of his lips is the only indication that he was not a figment of your half-aware conscious.  

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[diejager]

Hello there, love your stuff! How would the monster au boys react to their human reader being on their period? Because I can totally see Soap smelling blood on the reader and thinking that they are injured, but then getting confused when they tell him it’s a period. ☺️

Sweet blood Cw: blood, period, tell me if I missed any.

I completely agree, Soap, even with the intellect and understanding he needed to be a demolition expert, dismantling and building explosives and weapons from nothing, he’s oblivious of some things. Despite his skillful in sights and decisions, he falters in some aspects in a domestic scene and anything related to it. He struggled at first, trying to understand why there was a smell of sweet blood waffling off you as if it clung to your clothes, the smell ingrained in every little groove of your body —you smelled much sweeter as well.

It made something on his mind swoon, instincts reeling for unknown reasons until he asked you himself after someone found him sniffing the air like a mutt and following you like a lovesick pup. He seemed so confused with the notion of you bleeding once a month and only understood when you told him it was your period - or menstruation in more technical terms - and that it was all natural. He brought up to you a memory of his older sister smelling of blood, old yet new, unripe yet ripe, it followed a lunar cycle and that made it easier to understand.

Unlike Soap, the other’s are more knowledgeable of your plight, coming prepared to help you with whatever you would need. Despite their inexperience with menstrual cramps and cycles, they knew the gist of it, what it entailed whenever someone had one, few of them actually had first-hand experience with it. Ghost had Beth and his mom’s experience, their grumbles and annoyed sounds. Gaz from the few girls he dated in high school, soothing their pains when they curled forward, holding their abdomen. Alejandro and Rudy knew of it from the girls they grew up around in Las Almas as children, running around and skipping school when they didn’t feel well. Price - despote his busy life - had a few flings and Laswell’s grumbling to sit through when their cramps started. Horangi and König both saw and heard from the women in KorTac, their swift mood swings and short tempers once a month made them prepared.

If you needed a heated pad warmed in the microwave, Rudy and Gaz were already there with it in hand, wrapped in a fluffy towel to prevent yourself from burning your skin. If you needed water and painkillers for your unbearable cramps, Ghost and Kónig would gladly get you a cup of water and a few pills from their own bottles, strong painkillers for headaches and muscle pains that were probably weaker than the cramps you felt. If you needed a massage, something to soothe the ache in your back and limbs from your hormones getting out of control, a chaotic mess around your body, Price and Alejandro wouldn’t mind setting aside their work to give you a massage, to press and burn the ache through experienced and warm hands. If you needed a distraction from the whole nausea and sickness, Horangi and Soap would jump at the opportunity, a cuddling feline holding you down with his whole body or an enthusiastic and praise-hungry wolf making tricks to please you.

Alone, one could do a lot to help you through your period, reminding you in advance to take your med, bringing you whatever you would need and taking care of you, but together, they worked like a well oiled machine, every member fitting in like a cog, moving in synchrony. They went over and above to satisfying you, dropping their duty to rush to your side at the slightest sound of displeasure. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for you, from going to a drug store miles away for a specific med to carrying you around in their arms or back.

From that first occasion, Soap goes around with his nose raised and mind ready to help you at the drop of the hat if he gets a whiff of sweetened blood from you. He even has a bag in his room with pads, painkillers, soft towels, fluffy blanket, heated pads and a list of food you crave during your period.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi

[s-4pphics]

make the bed. (e.w.)

“𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃.”

omggg my first writing challenge YIPPPEEEE shoutout to olivia rodrigo

ty to the post-pandemic prose and my babies @elliesbelle and @totheblood for pointers :D love yall down 

wc;cw: 1.1K, just angst YAAAAY, internalized homophobia, ellies so sad :(, mentions of alcohol

“lf I liked girls,” you slurred, your lips brushing against the shell of Ellie’s ear, the pounding speakers synched with the squeezes in her chest, “I swear t’god… you’d be mine.” 

Whenever you drunkenly murmur to her like this, Ellie wishes she didn’t hear you; She was shocked she could over the ruckus happening all around, rattling the bubble she created for the two of you. You always sounded so sure with your lies. They never fail to throw her into fight or flight mode. She tensed and her stomach churned in despair. 

“Y’so perfect, Ellie. Love y’so… fuckin’ much. All mine.” 

All she could do was nod and whirl you around with a pained smile before burying it into your clothed shoulder. You didn’t bat an eye; You were always the affectionate drunk. 

But she wanted to scream. To cry and beg and ask — demand that you fall into her right where you stand. To love her the way she’s loved you since she showed you how to ride a bicycle in elementary school. She flinched at every delicate kiss you planted on her neck, her hands squeezing at your hips. She doesn’t know if she wants to push or pull you closer. 

She knows. Her arms enclosed around your waist and you giggle into her skin. 

This is exactly how you two should be. She’s envisioned it since middle school: completely infatuated and engulfed in each other, secluded off in your own little world filled with nothing but solace. Closeness. Affection and desire. 

So why was she sick to her stomach at your scent? Lavender and sage no longer brought her the comfort that they used to in adolescence. She was being torn apart from the inside out, but she couldn’t scream. 

She only listened, digested every drunk fallacy that you directed to her in secret. With no one watching. No one ever watched. No one could know. That was your only rule when she climbed through your window months prior. Please just keep it between us, you’d whispered before leaning in to kiss her. 

At least Ellie could imagine that this was real as she held you tight: recreate the same image in her mind over and over. The two of you are together and happy to be in love with no selfishness or regrets in her mind. All she had to do was close her eyes, and you were all hers, just like you said. She’s so, so in love with you. 

But you didn’t want her. You never did. 

She’s instantly reminded of that day a few months ago. The memory feels like a ghost over her shoulder; Maybe that’s why she’s constantly peeking over it, picking at it with her nails. 

The two of you often reserved study rooms during exam season for review, but you had other plans. You were exactly where you were supposed to be — room 213 — but you weren’t by yourself. 

You — beautiful, as always — brought… friends. Friends that Ellie knew, that you knew, didn’t like her. She never actually talked to them, but she always felt… off. She was instantly riddled with anxiety, the books that she checked out ten minutes ago almost hitting the floor as her arms weakened. Sweat pebbled on her forehead as she stood and watched everyone stare at her. 

Why did it look like they were all laughing? She couldn’t hear any chuckles, but there was laughter. Someone’s laughing at her. Do they know? You have to know, but do they know about the two of you? About how Ellie feels—

Ellie? you’d called. 

… Mhm? she recalls almost fainting. 

Your eyes were confused; You knew something was off, and it made her even more nervous. 

Sit down, honey. Come meet everyone. You made sure to massage her knee under the table; It always soothed her. 

The introductions were surprisingly smooth. Ellie never expected your friends to be so polite considering how rowdy they seemed outside of class. She was pleasantly surprised and put at ease. Until the end of your study session. 

Everyone was packing their bags and cracking jokes. Ellie even got a couple laughs out of some of them during the quiet few hours. 

Ellie wasn’t sure what came over her, but she eased closer to you, still gathering your books. She relaxed at your scent. When you turned to face her with that gentle smile, her mouth moved on autopilot. 

I missed you so much. You never hit me back last night.  

Maybe it was the way Ellie said it. She shouldn’t have looked into your eyes the way she did, whispered to you like that, said she missed you with so much devotion. But she did, and she wished she didn’t. 

Your smile turned to worry instantaneously, and Ellie’s heart plummeted when your head whipped around the room to check if anyone heard before turning back to her. No one cared. 

Ellie felt like she’d been stabbed. It happened so quickly; she probably would’ve missed it if she blinked. Her nails dug into the hardcover of her books, tears jerking in her eyes before she tossed a stiff see you guys later over her shoulder and rushed out the room. You tried to grab her arm, but she shoved you off. She had to fight her instincts so she wouldn’t turn around and apologize for being too rough. 

She got back to her dorm and… trashed it while she cried. Disgust and anger flooded her system while she threw her clothes, her trinkets, the photo of you, Ellie, and her mother at your shared high school graduation across the room (she only sobbed harder when she noticed it cracked when it hit the floor). The emotions that rushed through her weren’t even for you, but for herself. Ellie’s own hope destroyed her, and she only has herself to blame. 

She should’ve known at the time to never speak to you again, but she loved you. She loves you. Every fiber, every cell of her being lived to see you at your happiest; It’s tortuous how you expose the darkest parts that she wished to keep hidden until the end of time. She hasn’t felt like this since she was a teenager. 

And yet, she still swayed you. Kept you close so she could breathe you in. This is the most you allow, at least: physical touch. She knew better than to allow you to mistreat her, but she couldn’t leave you. You both danced until your legs burned, and you fell into her bed the same night. 

She forced herself to lay in the massacred mattress that she’d tried to keep made since she was a kid. The least you could do was fluff the pillow you slept on every night.

[0bticeo]

welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

**

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

[spider-stark]

LITTLE DRAGON

Aegon II Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Summary - Your elder brother, Jace, attempts to teach you how to wield a sword. Aegon, your new betrothed, interrupts.

Warnings - slight Jace x Reader but you can ignore that alright

Word Count - 3.8k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

“You aren’t tucking your elbows!”  

Jacaerys shouted from across the training yard, sparing your horrid fighting stance a half-moment’s glance before shifting his focus back to the weapons table laid before him, enamored by all the fresh steel he had to choose from.  

Sweat dripped from your hairline, trickling down your temples and giving your reddened cheeks a glossy sheen. The sun’s rays felt particularly relentless today, blistering down upon the yard and reminding you of just how much you hated summers spent in King’s Landing, already dreading the thought of being stuck here.   

You had grown accustomed to the cool, dampness of the island you had called home for the last several years. Dragonstone was almost always engulfed in a cover of clouds, and the soft breeze rolling-in from the Blackwater ensured that the warmer months were never quite as stifling as they were in King’s Landing.  

“I am tucking my elbows!” You howled at him, gritting your teeth against the growing pain in your biceps.  

The two of you had been out in the yard since sunrise, going over the basics of swordplay over and over and over again. By this point it felt like your brother’s instructions had been all but carved into your mind—plant your feet, square your shoulders, bend your knees, and tuck your elbows.  

Remembering the steps hadn’t been the hard part, however. The hard part was actually doing them—and doing them right.  

“No,” Jace grinned as he plucked a delicately forged rapier from the table. “You’re not.”  

You blew out a breath, frustrated as you dropped the faulty form all together and let your arms hang limp at your sides. The training sword hung heavy from your hand, the tip of its blunt blade digging into the dirt.  

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, watching as your brother drew closer to you, admiring the nimble blade in his hand. “I’ve bent my elbows a thousand different ways—and none of them have been right!”  

“That’s the issue! You’re bending your elbows, not tucking them!” Jace reprimanded, though his voice remained gentle, as it oft was when speaking to you.  

Your patience was wearing thin as your frustration grew, aggravated by not only the sweltering heat and swordplay, but also yourself. Your brothers had mastered the basics of fighting when they were less than half your age—and yet you couldn’t even manage a half-decent defensive stance.  

Exasperated and nearly at the end of your rope, you knew that you probably looked as miserable as you sounded. “Are bending and tucking not the same thing?”  

“Bending your elbows is a subtle movement,” Jace started to explain, “it helps you maintain some degree of flexibility. But tucking your elbows is more rigid, making for a better defense mechanism. By keeping your elbows close to your body, you’re tightening your posture and making it harder for your enemies to land a blow.”  

Adjusting your grip on the training sword, you brought it back up into a ready position, both hands now clutching the hilt. “So all I need to do is pull my elbows in closer?”  

“Exactly!”  

Focusing on each of the movements, you slid one foot slightly ahead of the other, balancing yourself as he’d instructed earlier. You took care to keep your knees bent, just enough to ensure that you could easily dodge or leap out of the way of an incoming strike.  

Once you were confident that you had done those steps correctly, watching as Jace nodded along in silent approval, you lifted the sword so that the pommel fell just a few inches below your breastbone, the point rising high above your head.  

Then, finally, you tried tucking your elbows as close to your sides as you could, attempting to block as much of your torso as possible from incoming attacks.  

“Like this?” You asked him, gritting your teeth against the throbbing in your arms, still so unused to the weight of the weapon.  

Jace cocked his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Well…”  

“Seven Hells, Jace!” You howled at him, trying to hold the position, “There are only so many ways to move your elbows!”  

“Yes, but now it’s not your elbows causing the problem!” He retaliated, extending his arm and using the tip of his rapier to point to your legs. “Standing like you are now, if you had to dodge your legs would probably lock up and slow you down. You need to drive your knees further apart!”  

You did as you were told, albeit a bit begrudgingly. 

“Better?” You hissed through your teeth, ignoring the way your legs trembled beneath you.  

Jace studied you, eyes narrowing as he scanned every inch of your form. “Push your shoulders further back,” he instructed, “and straighten your back out a little bit.”  

Again, you shifted into the new movements, adjusting and tweaking the positions to his liking. Your fingers hurt now, too, and painful blisters had already begun to form on your palms.  

“Straighter,” Jace snapped, still finding your posture to be sub-par. “And try to keep your toes pointed towards-”  

Your frustration finally peaked as you fell out of the intricate form, nearly doubling over as an exhausted groan ripped from your throat. Jace’s eyes widened at the sound, doubling back slightly.  

“And what next?!” You cried loudly, letting your sword fall to the ground. Throwing your aching arms out to the side in a dramatic display, you sneered at him, “Shall I hop on one-fucking-leg and shake my ass?”  

A sigh escaped your brother's parted lips, shaking his head as he leaned down to pick up your discarded weapon. Regret already seeped into your mind and dulled your anger as you began to prepare for the lecture that was surely about to leave his mouth—one that was no doubt about the level of discipline required for swordsmanship, and how you needed to maintain a level head.  

But, before he had the chance, another voice broke through.  

“Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt to try,” Aegon quipped from somewhere behind you, sounding far too amused with himself. “Go on,” he urged, “give it a shot. I for one would love to watch.”  

With clenched fists you spun around to face him, glaring into his lilac eyes, resenting the way they sparkled with something like delight. It wasn’t until his gaze traveled south that you lost your cool, however, noticing how he eyed the low neckline of your tunic, watching as sweat slipped between your breasts.  

But as soon as you took a step towards him, fully prepared to strike the arrogant Prince, Jace snatched your wrist and held you back. Level-headed enough to think for the both of you, he refused to let you do anything that would give Queen Alicent further reason to despise you—even if he would have loved to watch his sister beat Aegon’s ass.  

“You’re interrupting our training,” Jace told him, keeping his voice respectful despite the undeniable edge of frustration.  

“Am I?” Aegon pursed his lips, staring at the training sword that was still discarded on the ground, abandoned when Jace realized he would have to hold you back from your uncle. “Doesn’t seem like you’re doing a very good job, then. It’s easier to fight when the sword is in your hand-”  

Jace interrupted, “We should really get back to work,”  

“No need,” your uncle swiftly retorted, flashing a cocky smirk that only served to make your rage grow further. “I actually came here hoping for a moment alone with my niece,” he continued, pinning your brother with a stare, “you wouldn’t mind, would you?”  

You recognized the trap that he had set for your brother. If it were anyone other than Aegon, Jace would have wasted little time in telling them off, but this was different. Rejecting Aegon would create conflict—the one thing your mother had asked you and your siblings to avoid, if only to avoid upsetting the beast that was your step-grandmother, the Queen Alicent.  

“Now isn’t a good time,” Jace tried to protest, searching for some peaceful way to turn Aegon away. “You saw her just now, didn’t you? She’s clearly in need of more practice.”  

You were silent, primarily because you could feel Jace’s fingernails digging into your skin, a warning to stay silent. When it came to you, Jace wasn’t violent by any means, but he was more than willing to be assertive if it meant keeping you safe.  

Aegon drew a breath, still wearing that sly smile that made your skin crawl. “Very well,” he said, and you felt Jace’s grip on your wrist loosen at his assumed victory. “Then I’ll teach her myself.”  

Jace’s eyes grew wide, a muscle in his jaw feathering. Refusing to back down, his mouth fell open to speak, trying to form some other nonsense excuse to keep you from being alone with Aegon—but you stopped him.  

“It’s fine, Jace,” you told him, slipping your wrist from his grasp. “If Aegon believes himself capable of teaching me, then let him.”  

The look on Jace’s face stubbornly pleaded with you to take it back— to say that you were done with training for the day, to say anything that would keep you from being stuck with him.  

But you refused, steeling yourself and meeting his gaze with an equally unrelenting stubbornness. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to avoid Aegon forever, and you refused to let your uncle think that he had enough of an effect on you that you would resort to cowardly excuses to get out of being alone with him.  

Jace leaned closer to you and asked in a low voice, “Are you sure?”  

You grimaced at the question. “Yes,” you snapped, not wanting to appear as the image of a helpless little girl in front of your uncle. But then you saw the hurt flash in your brother’s dark, doe eyes and immediately felt guilty for it. “I’ll come and find you when I’m done,” you reached for his hand, squeezing it in yours, “I promise.”  

His brows furrowed, still unconvinced that it was a good idea to leave you alone with Aegon, but aware that he wouldn’t be able to change your mind. You smiled, a sweet and gentle kind of smile that was reserved only for your older brother.  

“You heard the woman, Jacaerys,” Aegon waved an impatient hand, sneering at Jace. “Leave me and my betrothed.”  

The word betrothed seemed to drip from his tongue like tar—a nasty and vile sort of sound that was used only to further antagonize Jace.  

Jace went rigid beside you, his cheeks growing red with anger. But his hand was still clasped in yours, and so you gave it another squeeze. “Go,” you told him, having switched roles with him and now being the one to counsel him in restraint. “I’ll be fine.”  

You knew that Jace didn’t fully believe you—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust Aegon. And while you were surrounded by a plethora of weapons that could be used in self-defense should Aegon try something, Jace also knew just how lousy you were at properly using them.  

Even so, he didn’t argue, biting his tongue and stifling his rage in favor of the peace your mother so desperately wanted.  

But even the prospect of peace wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling his hand from your grip and replacing it with the rapier he had chosen earlier, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned in, “If he tries something,” he whispered, “then shove the pointy end through his throat.”  

You held in a laugh, gripping the hilt tightly. “Got it.”  

With that, Jace stepped back and turned to take his leave, roughly knocking into your uncle’s shoulder as he pushed past him. Aegon cut his eyes, but you found it hard to tell whether it was because of Jace’s insolence or if it was because of how close you were with your brother.  

You didn’t care enough to ask.  

“Was there a need to provoke him?” You scoffed as soon as Jace was out of sight.  

Aegon feigned innocence. “Well, it’s not my fault that your brother is so easily provoked,” he said with a roguish grin. “He’s the one that’s so greedy with your time. I wouldn’t have to interrupt your pathetic sparring sessions if there was ever a time where Jace wasn’t stuck up your ass.”  

“Our betrothal was proposed five years ago,” you told him plainly, narrowing your eyes, “if you were that desperate to spend time with me, then I’m sure there were plenty of opportunities.”  

“You’ve been on Dragonstone.”  

“And you have a dragon,” you reminded him, fully aware that the flight to the island was quite short from King’s Landing.  

Aegon lifted one of his shoulders in a lazy gesture. “And you have a Jace. If I had been foolish enough to venture to Dragonstone these last few years, then I likely wouldn’t have left with my head.”  

A scowl etched onto your face at that, fully aware that he wasn’t entirely wrong for assuming that.  

While it had been five years since your betrothal to Aegon had been proposed by your mother, hoping that it might bridge the chasm that divided your family, it hadn’t been until this past month that the Queen Alicent had finally given way and consented to the match. And, if the rumors could be believed, then you had heard that her sudden change in heart was in part due to Aegon’s insistence. 

But regardless of any hearsay, you did know one thing for certain—Jace had always held onto the hope that the Queen would reject the proposal. You often told yourself that it was because he didn’t wish to see his little sister wed to your vile uncle, but many others—Aegon included, it seemed—believed that it was because your brother wished to have you for himself, as was the Targaryen way.  

You knew that there was merit to those claims, even if you sometimes didn’t want to admit it.  

“He wouldn’t have killed you,” you finally settled on an answer, your frustration mounting with each word. “Maimed, maybe, but Jace is no kinslayer.”  

Eyeing the rapier in your hand, Aegon asked, “And what about you?”  

You paused, glancing at the nimble blade of your weapon.  

It was thinner than the training sword you were using—and a lot sharper—but it was awkward to hold, all its weight concentrated towards the hilt rather than distributed throughout. Even if you did want to use it against Aegon, you were probably more likely to hurt yourself than him with how little experience you had and how poorly training with Jace had gone.  

After a moment, the corners of your mouth tilted upwards in a twisted imitation of a smile, flashing your teeth at him. “Let’s just say that I’m not my brother,” you answered, purposely vague.  

Aegon’s stare narrowed slightly, but he didn’t look intimidated by your declaration. “Then go ahead,” he responded coolly, spreading his arms out wide. “Give it your best shot.”  

Your eyes flickered around the yard, realizing for the first time that there were no guards around right now to witness your interaction. If you wanted to kill him, now would be as good a time as any—you could call it an accident, even if Queen Alicent would try to deny it. But due to your poor swordsmanship, it was a believable enough lie that you knew most would believe it; knew that your grandsire, King Viserys,  would believe it.  

If you killed Aegon now, then you wouldn’t be forced to marry him.  

If you killed him, then you knew your mother would sooner betroth you to Jace before ever even considering Aegon’s savage little brother, Aemond.  

And that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? Jace was kind and pleasant and the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Your brother would make you a Queen—a beloved Queen, at that.  

And yet…  

Aegon snorted a laugh, letting his hands fall when he saw your brow crease, your body unmoving as you refused to lunge for him. “You’re right, you’re not your brother. I might have little good to say about Jacaerys, but he’s undeniably Strong,” he quipped, the mischievous glint in his tone causing your blood to boil, “but not you—you’re just a coward.”  

Your heart thrummed wildly in your chest, knuckles turning white as you gripped the hilt of the rapier tighter. Then, without Jace here to hold you back, a primal scream of frustration ripped from your throat as you launched yourself at Aegon.  

The rapier’s blade led the way, your movements fueled by a rush of adrenaline. But your arms were weak and your footwork clumsy and predictable, and Aegon easily side-stepped your attack with a smirk.  

Breathing heavily, you went to swing the awkward blade again, but Aegon had already made his next move—taking advantage of your lack of speed and coming up beside you, snatching the hilt from your inexperienced grip and disarming you, tossing the weapon a few feet away so that you couldn’t try and get it back from him.  

But with your nerves still lit by frustration and a refusal to accept defeat, you curled your fists and aimed for his jaw.  

Aegon caught you by the wrists before your knuckles collided with his face. He held fast even as you struggled against his grip—firm but not rough.  

“Your brother was right,” he taunted with a laugh when you finally wore yourself out, “you do need practice.”  

“Shut up-” you snarled, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.  

You weren’t used to this.  

You weren’t used to fighting, you weren’t used to the heat, and you weren’t used to Aegon—or, at least, you weren’t used to being this close to Aegon.  

It suddenly hit you just how intimate the position seemed. Your heaving chest bumped against his as he held you close, his grip on your wrists never loosening, even once you had stopped fighting and he had been able to lower your arms to your sides.  

You weren’t sure that you had ever been this close to Aegon—close enough that you could smell the faint trace of mulled wine on his breath—and you felt your pulse skip at the realization, fear settling deep within your bones.  

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized, but of the fact that you didn’t quite mind being held by Aegon—not as much as you should have minded it, at least.  

“I could help you, you know.” He offered, his lilac eyes flashing with some distant emotion that you couldn’t recognize. “I wasn’t just trying to get rid of your brother when I said that I would teach you how to fight.”  

Still pressed close to his chest, you tilted your head back to look up at him, his jaw tightening when you asked, “What do you know about swordplay?”  

“I was trained by the Kingsguard,” Aegon reminded you sharply, his offense evident by the sharp crease in his brow.  

You gave a dry laugh, thinking back on your childhood prior to moving to Dragonstone. “If memory serves me, you spent more time parading around with courtesan’s than training.”  

Your laughter was cut short, breath catching in your throat when you felt Aegon release his hold on your wrists just before one of his hands snapped upwards, his fingers curling around your jaw. His thumb brushed gently against your cheek, and you couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t something intoxicating about the way he held you—his lilac eyes seeming to admire every contour of your face. 

“Even so,” he began, his voice hardly a whisper as he ignored your claim, “I still know more than enough about swordplay to teach my helpless little dragon how to defend herself.”  

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as the pet name slipped his lips. It stirred a hunger within you that you hadn’t known existed, and certainly didn’t expect. Your muscles went slack, relaxing in his grip as your lips parted ever so slightly, your body suddenly urging you to lean in and taste the honey that seemed to drip from his tongue.  

But even as you began to oblige with your body’s urges, rising on your toes to meet Aegon’s sweet, wine-stained lips, you heard some familiar voice chime in the back of your mind—urging caution, reminding you of who was holding you right now.  

Your deviant uncle—the son of Queen Alicent, who was all but your sweet mother’s sworn enemy. She might have asked you to wed Aegon out of duty, but she certainly hadn’t expected or wanted you to like your uncle, did she? In some twisted way, it felt like a betrayal to her and your true family to allow yourself to find pleasure in this—and yet you couldn’t quite deny the warmth flooding in the pit of your stomach at the feel of his touch against your face. 

But, taking advantage of that swift moment of clarity, you forced yourself to take a step back and reclaim some sort of control over yourself. As his hand fell, Aegon stood frozen in the agony of his own perceived rejection as he watched you turn on your heel, walking away from him without so much as a single word.  

But to his surprise, instead of exiting the yard altogether, you leaned down and plucked the blunt training sword off the ground where it had been abandoned far earlier. You left the rapier where Aegon had tossed it when he disarmed you, thinking you had no use for a blade that could cause actual injury. 

“Alright,” you took a deep breath as you turned back around to face him, offering a weak smile as you swallowed your nerves and said, “If you’re so confident in your skill, then teach me.”  

It was Aegon’s turn to pause now, a flicker of doubt dancing in his lilac eyes as his own insecurities continued to bear down on him. While he hadn’t wanted you to walk away, he also hadn’t expected you to say yes.  

But here you were—standing in front of him, not rejecting him, and allowing him to help, regardless of how wrong it might have felt. 

He's to be my husband, you thought to yourself, biting back against your feelings and trying to rationalize your desire to spend a bit of time with him, I should at least learn to tolerate him.

“Okay,” Aegon eventually said, his voice more uncertain than you’d ever heard it sound before; but hopeful too, wearing the faintest hints of a smile. “Show me your form.”  

As you did as he instructed, clumsily moving through each of the movements that Jace had shown you and listening to him laugh and correct your failures, you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty as you started to think that being stuck in King’s Landing wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

And that, maybe, Aegon wasn’t so bad either.

a/n - had this sitting in my drafts for a bit cause i wasn't totally happy with it, but decided to polish it up and post it anyways cause why not lmao

[bones4thecats]

Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.1) ~ RoR/SnV x Child! Reader

Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Thor, Shiva, & Child! Reader Name: Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.1) Original Poll Link: Here Other Parts: (PT.2)

A/N: I actually really liked this idea on the poll I made, and I hope it turned out as good as I imagined it! Enjoy!!

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🌩️ Your father was the Lü Bu, the Flying General himself, and when you heard from the Valkyrie named Brunhilde that he was set to fight in the first match of Ragnarok, you gave him the best support he could’ve asked for

🌩️ You sat alongside his army, with his strategist, Chen Gong, sitting next to you, trying to keep you from jumping down and attacking the God of Thunder yourself

🌩️ When Chen Gong and the others sacrificed themselves, stating their loyalty to you father, you stood there in shock and tear-filled eyes as Thor looked at you, seeing a child without anyone left

🌩️ He felt guilty, but this was what they wanted, they wanted to join their lord, and while he initially wanted to just leave the area, he walked up to you and shocked the Gods and Humans as he kneeled down and hugged you

🌩️ After that day, you stayed by Thor’s side, he reminded you so much of your father it would make you cry

🌩️ Thor may not be the best person when it comes to comforting, but he tries his best when it comes to you, Lü Bu was the one person who could stand a fight against him, and because of this, he would try training you to be just as strong as your father and him

🌩️ He honors your father with you. Every day on his birthday, and on the days of each of his soldiers, including Chen Gong, you would walk into a field in the forest located in the Chinese section of Valhalla, you would both hand off flowers and lay them on the graves you and him had made

🌩️ The words he said to you when he comforted you that day are words that you will never forget

“ Your father was an honorable man, I hope you know that. And because of the honor he possessed, I will take you in as my own. I believe it is something that your father would’ve wanted. “

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🪩 He believed that Raiden was the one opponent he would remember the rest of his life, and when he saw the now-deceased rikishi stare at a young child with the two Valkyries, he froze

🪩 The man was a father, just like him

🪩 But while his child could handle loss of someone easily, you appeared to be around a young teen, this must’ve been one of the hardest things you ever had to witness

🪩 Shiva looked at you and back at the crumbling Raiden Tameemon, guilt filled his heart, which was something he hadn’t felt for such a long time, why did he feel guilty? He just won and brought honor to his pantheon!

🪩 Watching as you ran down and tried hugging the remaining pieces of your father just got him staring back at his wives and son, and when he saw how saddened their eyes were then they looked at you

🪩 The God of Destruction walked up to you and you jumped back when his one arm reached out to you, and that action made the Humans cry out for him to not hurt you

🪩 He kneeled down and since he was just on fire, the heat that radiated off of him made you hold your head away from him

“ Look at me, young one. “

🪩 You looked up at him and saw how his eyes shimmered with guilt, making you look at where your father once stood and back at the man who caused his demise

🪩 Shiva held is one arm back as you tried helping him stay standing when he slumped over in pain, after all, losing three arms doesn't exactly make anyone, including Gods, feel very good

🪩 Once you came to visit him with his wives and son, he saw how you carried yourself around him, not with resentment or fear, but with care and gentleness, making him smile

🪩 Whenever he rested, you laid next to him, you were like another child of his, and when he offered to take care of you in the Hindu Pantheon, it made you jump up and down and hug him and his wives as they agreed to taking you in as their own

“ Your father was one of the best fighters I have ever met in my thousands of years of life. And… seeing you look so painfully at where your father once stood, I just, I knew you had to have someone there for you. Would you do me, and my wives, the honor of joining our family? ”

[mellowwillowy]

𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yan! God x GN Yan! Reader

Warnings: Gruesome talk, blood, NSFW, Sadist x Sadist, mention of conceiving (miracle talk, no hope though).

"You are the most beautiful songbird in this world, dear."

Just like the songbird you were, you could only chirp and sing like them in this golden cage. The man's golden eyes stared into yours in adoration, his finger poked your cheek playfully every now and then.

How could he not adore his songbird when it took at least millenniums for him to catch you? It was a nice play chase game but he was also a man of needs. He needed to have you in his embrace, in his gilded cage.

"What will you do this time? I won't let you kill yourself to escape anymore."

And he was a man of his word. He would not go back on his words no matter what it took. Even if it meant he had to travel between fragments for millenniums just to find you.

"Oh... my songbird... how beautiful you are with these cuffs on your ankles..."

As though he was petting a bird, his hands ran up and down on your leg, squeezing your thigh every now and then.

"Dressed in white, you really do resemble an angel..."

He held the fabric of your clothes, humming as a glass of wine appeared in his hand. It reminded him of how those lambs' wool was splattered in red as it met its own demise.

"But you see... I enjoy tainting angels... I'm not just some benevolent God like you were..." He spilled the wine onto your clothes, enjoying watching how the red wine seeped through the pristine white fabric.

"My songbird... my favorite lamb..."

He brought his face closer to yours, his lip pressed against yours.

"All good for me, right?"

And that was his warning before he bit on your lower lip, nibbling it as though it was candy. His target shifted into kissing you, his right hand on your waist while his left hand held you still. You thrashed under his hold, legs flailing like a fish.

"Be good."

He bit your tongue, that was his first warning. Unlike his other self, he was not one to have his patience tested. And you loved that. The kiss lasted for as long as you could go on without breathing, tongue exploring each other's. You knew you were growing needy, as much as you enjoyed playing as the target and victim of his adoration, you also fancied him in one of the rooms in your 'heart'.

Growing bored, he pulled off from the kiss and started littering your neck with kisses instead. Your hand went to cover your mouth, your tongue feeling the lip he kissed earlier. You really loved him. So much that you want to cut his tongue and have it as your dinner.

He started to grow greedy, leaving his marks here and there, hickeys and bite marks painted all over your neck and shoulders for people to see. It served as a warning for people who dared to approach after all.

For you were the God's most beloved companion and lover.

Not wanting to lose, you nibbled his ears while your hands clawed his back as though treating him as a scratchbox.

"You must have really wanted to paint my back red again huh?"

He let you do so as he took off his whole attire, only leaving him with his pants, his toned chest bare open for you to feel.

"Go on, I ought to spoil my lover every now and then no?"

You didn't waste your time, digging your nails into his flesh as deep as you could to draw even more blood. You loved seeing him bleeding, you had always enjoyed making people you fancy bleed in one way or another, feeling their blood tinged your arousal.

He did not hiss even for the slightest, used to any kind of pain. His hand traveled down to cup your clothed sex before tearing the fabric that clothed it apart, teasing it with his fingers before he worked his way into it. His other hand stimulated you, both working to make you dig your nails even deeper, it made his back painted in bloody trails.

Gods had no worry with earthly wounds and scars but you two enjoyed keeping each other's marks, relishing in the pain as it was created, unwilling to erase it from your own skin as the two of you let time heal themselves.

As though he wanted more, he brought his mouth to work as well, making your hands move to tug his hair instead. You did not even bother to minimize your moans and whines, thighs squeezing him, not allowing him to pull away even if he was suffocating in a sense.

You knew he would never suffocate after all. No matter how hard and long you choked him, he would never pass out and his erection would only grow larger as he waited for his turn to do so. You two were sick.

It didn't take long for you to reach your high, yet just before you could come, he pulled away from your grasp forcefully, a smirk plastered on his face as he wiped his mouth. A bastard at heart.

"Why don't you return the favor?" He brought your face to his clothed cock by your hair. Used to this, you pulled down his pants and started kissing his cock before pulling down his underwear as well.

Well, it was safe to say his cock bounced out and accidentally hit your face. He only chuckled at the sight of you groaning before pinching your cheek, "How adorable." No matter how sick the two of you were, you two were also souls with a bond. A bond where the two of you would never hesitate to slaughter anyone that got in the way. It was no secret that you had always been brimming with envy seeing him fooling around with his followers.

He didn't mind seeing you going on a rampage with his little followers, in fact, he enjoyed watching it from the sideline. Watching how much they had to suffer as it depended on how much they had spent their time with him. The worst was yet the best for him. You would then sing like a songbird as you clean your mess up, praising yourself for serving another meal for Leviathan to feast. (an: Leviathan - the demon of Envy) In fact, he found you playing around adorable despite the mess he had to clean up as well.

You wrapped his length with your mouth, drooling at the thought of it entering and ramming you in and out. It would feel so good that you were already excited, your excitement leaking out as proof of it.

"So good for me, no?"

You nodded as you shut your eyelids, head bobbing in and out as your hand worked its way as well. You knew the parts he was sensitive to and you wanted to feel him tugging your hair even harder. Your tongue licked one of his cock's veins, urging him to twitch inside you excitedly.

"You really... are, khk-!"

You smiled to yourself mentally, adoring the subtle groans he made and dying to listen to more of it. You really loved seeing his flustered face, and you'd die to see it again, his face red until it reached his shoulder, moans slipping out of his lip and his erratic pace to chase his high, You loved it all. Although you could actually feel your jaw growing sore from his size, you did not pull away. Well, it's not like you could pull away.

The only warning he gave you before he shot his load into your mouth was a little statement of him saying he was cumming. And he came a lot.

Do Gods from his world just have this monstrous size of strength, size, and loads? No wonder they all just have these unlimited amounts of offspring and children.

He pulled out once he finished inside your mouth, his sperm trickled out from the corner of your mouth and hit the floor. His fingers squeezed your round chick, prompting you to open your mouth. You opened it and showed him just how your inside was painted in white with his semen.

He bit his lip, his face and shoulder red from his previous makeout with you. You could just really cum just by looking at his worn-out face, clenching your thighs while thinking about what you should do to make him redder.

"Swallow."

And you did so. His order rang inside your head while you swallowed all the probabilities and chances of a miracle to happen inside your body, for you to conceive. But you threw it all away and drank it down like your favorite drink, wiping the corner of your lip with your thumb before pressing the thumb onto your tongue.

You pointed down to your sex again, the grin on your face gave him all the ideas you wanted. To fuck himself into you as deep as possible and paint your insides white with the idea of a sweet 'miracle' despite the two of you knowing such a thing would never happen. Such a miracle never existed. But what were you two but indulging in each other's wish and lust?

"I truly love you the most, Caelus!" You kissed him with your arms wrapped around his neck. Caelus reciprocated your gestures, his lip nibbling your earlobe as he positioned his cock into your entrance.

"Beats me, I love you too, my love."

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒚.

[multific]

In the High of the Feeling

Mattheo Riddle x Cat Animagus!Reader

Warning: smut, tiny blood play, a hint of breeding kink

Summary: Much like for many animals, heat season was right around the corner for you as well.

A/N: This one has a little Omegaverse feel to it. I did try and make it different but there are similarities. Both parties are +18! 

A/N: This can be read as part 2 of this piece.

Being an animagus had its ups and downs.

Your loving and helpful boyfriend, Mattheo was definitely a bonus.

He would help with any difficulties or tried his best to help. No one in the school knew, none of the students beside him at least.

It hadn't been that long since the two of you got together and he realized your secret.

This will be the first spring the two of you will spend together and you were... for a lack of a better word, nervous.

Extremely nervous.

You knew what spring brought.

It brought a new start. Flowers bloom and animals... yeah.

It was rare for an animagus to be so tied to their animalistic side. But you were.

And with spring, came your heat.

A week where you would have the strongest desire to have offsprings.

Ever since you hit puberty, the feeling was there, but lately, as you got older, the feeling got stronger.

And now, that you had a boyfriend, you knew your body and mind will go crazy, you needed to stay away from Mattheo and you needed a way to explain this to him to the best of your ability.

But how do you explain to a horny guy that he needs to stay away from you because for once it will be you who wants to have sex all the time? With the purpose of getting pregnant.

You couldn't let that happen, you were too young.

You understood it was only nature, but still... no.

"Babe? BABE!" the yell made you snap back into reality as you looked at your boyfriend sitting across you by the table. "You have been distracted lately. Do you have another man or something?"

"Nothing like that... it's-"

"Is it a cat-thing?" he asked as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"Actually, yes." you looked around, making sure no one was there to hear you. "Spring is coming." you said with a low voice and he made a face then a sudden realization. You hoped he would understand.

"You are right! More Quidditch!" you wanted to slap him.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you let out a long sigh.

"No." you said not opening your eyes to look at him.

"No? Then what Princess? You have to go home for the break or something?"

"My heat is coming." you said, straight up, since you knew dancing around the subject won't help.

"What's that?" you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.

You shouldn't have expected for him to understand.

"Spring brings new life. Flowers bloom and animals..." his eyes grew big with realization. "Professor McGonaghall said she would give me a potion to keep my... needs at bay but apparently the very flower that you would need blooms after my heat would be over so..."

"I'm too young to be a father." was what he ended up saying.

"So am I. It's nature, unfortunately, I can't do anything with it. I will have the week off, I already spoke with the teachers. I have so many things to do. I just wanted to tell you to please just... for that week stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to control myself and... I wouldn't want to force you."

"First of all, you would never force me. I do understand your point now, but I'm also very curious. Tell me more about it. What happens? Does it hurt? What do you do? Do you touch yourself?" you could see in his eyes he was genuinely interested.

"It hurts, unfortunately, yes. But it's a very different pain from like a wound. I would say it's like a heartbreak and a broken leg at the same time. I always have a little area that I put together so I can stay there. I put soft things... pillows, blankets and- Oh that reminds me, can I borrow a shirt from you? Your scent might help me." he only nodded as he listened, he was more interested than ever. "So, yeah I just... I do touch myself, yes. It helps with the pain. I'm just worried about what might happen this time."

"Why?" he reached out on the table and held your hand in his. "What would happen this time?"

"Well, now I have you. I have a partner and my body knows that. So I'm nervous about what would happen this time."

"I see. I will give you the shirts. Many of them. When does this... heat start?"

"You can't really pinpoint it out, it's like a period but it should be this weekend/next week that it starts." you smiled at him, happy he didn't find it disgusting or anything.

"I will bring you my clothes tomorrow then."

"Thank you." but he didn't know, you thanked him for another reason.

The next morning you woke up with a strange feeling. Your foggy mind didn't even realize what was happening. You found yourself thinking more and more about your boyfriend, more specifically, him naked.

You were thankful that last night you at least build your comfort place on your bed.

Your entire body felt hot and your mind could only think of one thing.

The dirtiest images flashed in your mind.

You only ever slept with Mattheo a couple times, but now it was all you could think about.

How soft his skin was, how you could run your fingers over his scars, letting him know that it was okay.

How he smelled and felt like.

How amazing he made you feel as he just kept rolling his hips with a steady rhythm. 

The images flooded your mind as your imagination ran wild.

You wanted him to ravish you. 

To completely fill you up and have your own litter. 

You were going insane. You let out a soft moan when there was a knock on your door.

"Princess? I brought the shirts I promised." his voice, his nice voice, his intoxicating voice.

You felt your ears and tail pop out, you felt your eyes change.

You were gone. Your most basic instincts took over as you walked to that door and opened it.

He was saying something, you saw his gorgeous lips move. But you were far too gone to hear it.

When he looked at you, confused, you pulled him in and locked the door behind him, you pulled on his hair, kissing him with all you had.

Your cat-like teeth managed to scare his lips as you now tasted a little blood along with the tobacco he always smoked.

Your hands found his tie as you began to take off his clothes one by one.

"Hey, hey, slow down." he said as he pulled back as he laughed a little.

"You have too many layers." you said, not even looking at him as you began to undo his belt. That is when he jumped back, keeping you at arm's length.

"Why are your ears out?" you put your hand on his forearm as his hand was on your shoulder.

"I need you." you said with the most intoxicating voice Mattheo had ever heard. He did hear you say those words before. He did make you say and moan many things but this. this was different.

Your voice was filled with lust.

"Oh shit, this is it right? Your heat. Fuck." Mattheo looked around, he knew, he needed to go. NOW. "I-I have to... go." he said but by the time he finished you were completely nude in front of him. His eyes were glued to your body.

Men are such easy creatures.

"Matty, I need you." you said again as he looked into your eyes. 

"Okay... Okay. I-I have condoms."

"Noooo." you walked over to him, you put your hands around his neck as your mouths were only inches apart. "I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it ooze out."

He grabbed your waist with both hands.

It was all too much for him, he felt himself getting harder by the second.

"I'm so wet Matty, please." he had to gulp, he looked away from you and noticed the arranged pillows on your bed. While he was thinking you took the opportunity to make your final move.

He watched as you walked away from him and towards your bed. With your back to him, you knelt down on the bed and moved to lay down with your ass up in the air. You reached under your body and with two fingers you spread your lips, showing him your wet cunt. Then you moved one finger in and dragged it down, letting out a moan as you touched your clit.

"Please, Mattheo." is all you needed to say as you looked at him with your head on the bed.

He lost.

Thankfully he still had the mind to put on the protection.

"Nooo. No condom." you said but he didn't hear you, his focus was on your pussy. 

He jerked himself twice before grabbing your hips and slowly pulling you back, filling you up.

Just what you have been craving for.

You both let out a long moan as he filled you fully. You were finally a little satisfied, feeling his balls slapping onto your skin as his huge cock filled you up to your stomach.

He started off slow, keeping his focus as he felt your tail wrap around his leg then move up his back.

He needed to have control.

You were in a very vulnerable state. He had to remind himself.

But it seemed almost useless because every time you looked into his eyes, his common sense failed him.

Especially when he felt you beginning to move back onto him with rough movements.

"Fuck." he said as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock. "Shit, Babe." but you were a moaning mess. 

If he was far too gone, you were beyond.

"Wait." he said as he almost came, in his nearing high, he grabbed the base of your tail which made you yelp in surprise. "Sorry." he said, knowing how sensitive it was, he ran his hand up your spine. feeling the curve in which you were laying.

He loved it.

He loved you.

You patiently waited for him to began moving again, and when he did, oh how magnificent it was.

His movements were fast, you were sure his fingers will leave their marks but you didn't care.

All you wanted is to feel him fill you up.

Then he grabbed your hair and pulled back on it a little. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moaning.

His name was all you could say as he groaned and moaned. 

Once again you moved your tail around him as he moved you, laying you down onto your stomach, as he put a pillow under it, raising the place he wanted to reach the most. Your fingers entangled with the sheets as he moved back inside you. His two hands by your side as he continued to ruin your pussy.

"So good." he said. "So fucking good. Look at me." and you obliged, looking at him with your cat-like eyes as he was nearing his end. 

"Matty, I'm close." you said as you started to feel the familiar knot in your belly.

Upon hearing that Mattheo knew he needed to set a pace he can keep so you can cum.

He focused on you and you alone, he moved and kissed your shoulder as he felt you tighten.

"Come for me, Kitten." he whispered into your ear as you came with a loud cry. Or, you would have but he put his hand onto your mouth, he felt your sharp teeth gaze along his fingers but he couldn't care.

You felt so tight, warm and wet.

And feeling you cum around him did the trick.

He came with a small shake and a moan as he emptied himself into the condom. However, his instincts did the trick. After, he made long movements as if he was filling you with his cum. Slow and deliberate movements with his softening cock. 

It felt like heaven.

You finally came to your senses a lot more but when you felt him placing kisses along your spine, you knew he wanted this as much as you did.

You seduced him, but you didn't feel guilty about it. 

It seemed that only for a moment he left you but soon he was laying by your side as he put a blanket over the two of you.

"I could get used to this." he said as you cuddled into his side. "You are so sexy."

"It comes with the heat too, I put off a scent which is attractive for men."

"Nah. It was more than that. You were sexy before. We should have done this earlier, I didn't know you could take it so rough."

"I love you." you said as you closed your eyes, ready for a nap before you need your next round.

"I love you too, Princess. I think I could get used to this. Every year, a week where you cannot keep your hands off of me."

"Two." you said with a very drowsy voice.

"Huh?"

"I have heats twice a year. So, two weeks."

Mattheo looked at the ceiling. 

He knew he will need a lot more condoms, he suspected you will wake up within an hour or so and he needed to be ready.

But he can definitely get used to this.

Twice a year.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[stargirllanaa]

୨⎯ “I don’t smoke”- R.C

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, heavy drinking, violence, mentions of drugs, mentions past d/v, Rafe’s a narcissist, emotional abuse

Summary: based on ‘I don’t smoke’ by Mitski (you don’t have to listen to understand but I still recommend. You drink to much and everything goes so wrong.

A/n ✎: surpriseeee, I was taking a break but got randomly motivated lol, thank you for 300 followers!!! Ily all sm! My inbox is open btw, also pls reblog and comment if you enojoyed!! Also I recommend listening to the song while reading!! Tyy

Wc: 2.8k

18+ minors dni!!!

As you took a long drag of your cigarette, you thought about your night, how you ended up on the balcony of the Cameron house with a tear-stained face and a cigarette in hand.

You never smoked except for after you and your boyfriend got into it; nicotine’s supposed to relieve stress and calm the nerves, right? I mean, you weren't addicted, just a stress relief.

It made you laugh how almost every fight with your boyfriend was so stupid, usually a misunderstanding or him taking out his anger for something that had nothing to do with you.

You questioned why you always stayed with him; how could you be so in love with someone who mistreated you?

You laughed to yourself, taking another drag of your cig before inhaling, the warm breeze making contact with your slightly damp face, reminding you of why you were even out here; the sad realization brought fresh tears to your eyes, and before you knew it you were bawling again, sitting on the ground, knees brought to your chest, sobbing into your lap.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ Earlier that night୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

You and Rafe had ended up at a random party, some kook that Rafe knew from high school. Believe it or not, you enjoyed going to parties with Rafe. There was always an excuse to get as drunk and high as possible, and if you were faded enough, your thoughts would stop, and you finally felt at peace. It was honestly sad, but being in a relationship with Rafe, it was so hard to feel ok… to feel normal.

You guys had been at the party for about an hour, and you were already crossed, taking every drink offered to you in a heartbeat and even smoking with your boyfriend and his friends, but you could still feel, and you didn't like that, so you stumbled over to the drinks table, praying that there was at least enough left for a shot. Your vision was already spinning, and you were practically tripping over yourself, but you just wanted the pain in your heart to stop; that's it.

After what felt like a lifetime pushing through people and saying, ‘Excuse me,’ you finally made it. You reached for a bottle but didn't even read what it was; you were just desperate for anything. Your gut told you to stop drinking; you were nauseous, dizzy, felt heavy, and could barely walk straight, but your heart told you to keep going, so you did.

You poured yourself a shot, shaky, uncoordinated hands spilling a good amount on your fingers and the table. You drank the alcohol, tossing your head back as the bitter liquid made contact with your tongue before slightly burning the back of your throat. Your face scrunched up, looking around for a chaser but unable to find one.

As you stumbled around looking for your boyfriend, you bumped into at least five people, even causing one girl to spill her drink on herself; everything felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and the world was spinning; you hated, but you loved this feeling, you were numb to your problems but also felt sick.

When you made eye contact with your boyfriend, he was sitting on the couch; you could barely make out the color of the sofa or who else was even on it; that's how fucked up you were.

You sat down next to him before even realizing what you were doing. You practically fell into him; before you knew it, you were lying on his shoulder and falling asleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

“Y/n!” you heard your boyfriend's voice echoing through your head before even opening your eyes; you kept them closed. You were still tired and wanted at least five more minutes of sleep.

“She's knocked out, man.” you heard another man who wasn't your boyfriend say, most likely one of his friends.

“Y/n!” Rafe shouted, now shaking you awake.

You were genuinely confused when you opened your eyes—three blurry figures standing before you. When your vision evened out, you saw Your boyfriend was staring at you with his fist clenched to the side, clearly angry, as his two friends stood beside him, but you were laying on Rafe, at least you thought you were, but when you lifted your head and looked to your side to see who you were laying on, it was some random guy.

You immediately jumped, scooting yourself away from the random blonde. You had never seen this man before, and when you layed next to him, you could have sworn he was your boyfriend.

You quickly stood up, still tired and still drunk. Your heart was beating rapidly, and the look on Rafe's face didn't help; he was arguing with the man you had been lying on; you heard the name ‘Evan’ slip from his mouth.

"What's your problem, man?" Evan questioned, his tone challenging; he kept his spot on the couch as you hid behind your boyfriend and his friends, still able to get a clear view of the altercation.

“I've seen the way you've looked at her before.” Your boyfriend drunkenly spat, referring to you; he talked with his hands aggressively. That was a bad sign, and it worried you; you just wanted to explain to him this was all an accident, a drunken mistake.

“Listen, man; Your girl was all over me.”

Evan replied, words laced with venom as he stood up from his spot on the couch.”Maybe control your bitch next time-”

Without another word, Rafe lunged forward, his fist connecting with Evan's jaw.

The force of the blow sent Evan stumbling backward, crashing into a nearby table, sending drinks flying in all directions, causing everybody around to stop and look.

Evan recovered quickly, launching himself at Rafe.

The two boys wrestled with each other; trading blows amidst the chaos of the party; a crowd formed around them as phones were being taken out to record.

You were horrified, wide eyes watching as Rafe pushed the other blonde to the floor before punching him repeatedly. You knew this was your fault, and you felt horrible. How could you have made such a big mistake?

Your tears spilled, and your hand covered your mouth as you watched Rafe's friend's topper and Kelce pull him away from the kook on the floor, finally separating them. Rafe looked so angry. He was breathing heavily, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, but when you looked at the bloody blonde on the floor, you gasped. You regretted even looking at him; blood covered his face as he rolled over slightly, coughing more blood up; you even heard someone mutter, “Call 911.”

When Rafe's friends finally let go of him, he didn't go back for more; he honestly seemed satisfied, and when he grabbed your wrist roughly, pulling you away from the now-dead party and to his truck, clearly trying to avoid the police you were honestly shocked, You had never witnessed rafe hurt someone that bad, I mean he was going crazy, you couldn’t get the image of Evans blood covered face out of your head. And the more you thought about it, the more grateful you were that Rafe had never caused that much harm to you. I mean, sometimes he would slap, chock, or grab you, but he had just shown you how much he was genuinely holding back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

You had finally arrived at Tanneyhill after what felt like hours of complete silence as Rafe dropped his friends off. He refused to talk to you, ignoring you as you tried to explain to him that it was an accident and that you were just really fucked up. You were still drunk, not as drunk as you were when you originally made the mistake, but drunk enough to keep trying to talk to Rafe.

The thing was that you would rather argue with Rafe than be ignored; you hated when he punished you with the silent treatment; it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, and you also didn't know how long he would keep this going, sometimes it was days, sometimes it was hours, you would much rather him just hit you and get it over with.

“Why would you even bring me here if you're going to ignore me?” You questioned Rafe, voices pleading for a response as you found your place on his bed.

He didn't even look up at you; instead, he rolled his eyes as he focused on his phone, scrolling through whatever social media app he was on.

“Are you fucking serious?” You recklessly said as tears started to brim your eyes; his breathing halted for a moment at that. “I said it was an accident! What the fuck do you want me to do?” You choked out, throwing your hands up.

Rafe continued to ignore you, slightly laughing at something on his phone; he wanted you to feel as guilty as possible, and he knew making you sit in silence and think about what you did would be the best way to achieve that, so he had to be strong. He wanted so badly to respond and put you in your place, but he also knew you would prefer that to this.

“Rafe!” you shouted, wanting so desperately to be heard, but you got no response, not even a look in your direction.

“RAFE!” You repeated even louder this time, but still, he kept eye contact with his phone and ignored you; it made you so angry and sad, so many emotions you didn't want to feel. This was the fucking worst.

“I fucking can't.” You cried, tears blurring your vision as you left Rafe's room, slamming the door behind you as you made your way to the balcony. You grabbed your chest, trying to slow your fast and deep breathing, but you couldn't. Rafe was treating you like shit, and it was so frustrating.

The blonde didn't stop you from leaving his room; he knew your little routine and that you would return to his bed in at least ten minutes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

The following day, you woke up to muffled yelling from outside Rafe's bedroom door; you didn't even remember falling asleep or returning to his room last night; your last memory was bawling on the balcony as the smell of your cigarette filled your nose.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, noticing the pounding sensation throughout your head. You drank way too much last night, you thought to yourself before being brought back to reality by the muffled voices behind the door. Their voices were tense, filled with bitterness, and you couldn't help but feel a twitch of worry knotting in your stomach.

You glanced around the room, searching for clues or signs of what might have sparked the disagreement, but it was nothing new for Rafe to get into it with literally anyone.

The morning light filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your familiar surroundings, but your attention remained fixed on the heated exchange just beyond the door. But before you could even form another thought, Rafe's bedroom door swung open and slammed closed behind him as he breathed in and out fast and placed his hands on his head.

You exited his bed, swinging your feet out from under his blankets before standing up and walking over to him. You just wanted to comfort him and try to make him feel better. Even though you and Rafe didn't necessarily get along all the time, he's still your boyfriend, and you didn't enjoy seeing someone you love so upset.

“Rafe.” you calmly mumbled, touching his back. “Calm down,” you said, rubbing it. You could tell he was still distraught by how he was breathing.

His breath was rapid, his jaw clenched, and his first balled to his side.

“Take some deep breaths.” you calmly mutter, still trying to calm him down, but you knew you had triggered something in him when you saw the way he turned to you, eyes narrowed and dark; you didn't understand why what you said upset him, but you knew that all his anger would now be directed towards you.

“Calm down?” Rafe repeated, tone harsh and aggressive. “Deep breaths?” he hissed, taking a step closer to you as you took one back.

“Do you hear yourself?” The kook tapped on his temples as he stared you down, jaw clenched as he leaned on his dresser.

“You sound just like Sarah.” he tisked as he crossed his arms.

You didn't know what to say, but at this point, you were on the other side of the room; you knew you were playing a dangerous game, even being in the same room as Rafe when he got like this.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Rafe? I-” You looked down before being cut off by the sound of glass hitting the floor after your boyfriend knocked over serval objects that were sitting on top of his dresser in one clean sweep.

You flinched, closing your eyes as the abrupt noise of objects breaking filled your ears. You were grateful he took his anger out on his random trinkets rather than you, but you couldn’t stop your breath from speeding up as you held your chest, trying to lower your anxiety.

“I want you to be fucking quiet for once.” Rafe fumed angrily, now stalking towards you. “I want you to stop getting shitfaced just to embarrass me.” he spat, referring to last night.

As he stalked towards you, you made a run for it, successfully reaching the other side of the room, but this pissed him off even more you could see the way his jaw clenched even from where you were standing.

“Yeah, because the whole world revolves around Rafe!” you sarcastically nodded with a fake smile. He was fucking delusional if he thought you would purposely get drunk just to fall asleep on another man and embarrass him.

He rolled his eyes in response, jaw ticking again.

“I'm at least happy you got your anger out on someone other than me last ni-” Your words were cut off by empty glass being thrown directly at your face; luckily, you dodged it, falling to the floor and covering your head immediately.

Thankfully, the glass was thick enough that it didn’t break. What the fuck. If that would have hit your face, Rafe could have fucking killed you. You didn't know how you went from trying to comfort your boyfriend to almost being killed by him so fast. He was so unpredictable it was scary, and since you were so lost in thought, you didn't realize he was now right in front of you.

“You know why I hurt you, don't you?” Rafe questioned, voice now calm… scarily calm as he kneeled in front of you, brushing a hand over your hair.

You didn't respond; you were shaking and now crying. You were too terrified to even look up at him, too scared of what was coming next.

“Look at me.” Rafe sneered before tightening his once soft grip on your hair and using it to pull your head back and make eye contact.

You groaned at the feeling, more tears falling from your face as the pain intensified every second. You regretted even trying to make him feel better in the first place. Fuck, you regretted even meeting him.

“You know why I hurt you, don't you?” Rafe questioned again. This time, his voice was harsher, and his eyes grew darker the longer you didn't respond, but you didn't care you weren't answering that stupid fucking question; Rafe had no excuse to hurt you no matter what you did, and you weren't about to validate his reasoning.

“This is exactly why.” Rafe scolded, grabbing more hair as his grip tightened further. You screamed out in pain, but he quickly covered your mouth with his other hand as he continued. “You’re disrespectful.” he critiqued as he spoke through his teeth.

You were sobbing into his hand, tears soaking his fingers as he looked down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. Rafe wanted to hurt you; Your boyfriend wanted you to feel exactly how he did when he entered his room in the first place.

“You’re kinda pathetic, you know.” Rafe looked you up and down, grip still tight on your hair.

“You're already crying, and I barely even touched you yet.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!

Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘bad liar’

[spdrvyn]

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

[answer2jeff]

SHARING SPACE — Carmen Berzatto.

synopsis: just a blurb, how you ended up moving in with Carmen :)

warnings: established relationship, reader is implied female (but little use of specific pronouns), fluffy headcanons, some smutty implications, some smutty implications but still fluff, mentions of alcohol and smoking, blurb is set once they're rebranding The Beef into The Bear.

i need more Carmen fluff this man is my whole life. btw this is super short but i'm sooooo burnt out :'(

It started with you "accidentally" falling asleep in his bed from the night before, panicking and hurrying to put your clothes in the morning before he had to rush to work. You weren't technically dating, but you were too close for comfort to be considered something as shallow as "friends with benefits." It was more than that.

But then things seemed to slow down. It turned into spending an extra ten minutes enveloped in each others arms. You shared, "good mornings" between sickly sweet kisses, his hands feeling up and down your torso while your fingers entangled in his hair. Carmen whispered about how much he didn't want to leave—as much as both of you knew he had to.

"You're gonna be late, Carmy." You'd groan, cupping his clean-shaven face and planting small kisses on his cheeks. Carmen let out a sigh of disappointment, realizing his short moment of bliss would be over the second he thought about leaving.

"I'm gonna clean up, 'kay?" He'd mumble, kissing your sweet lips one last time. His pupils dilated at the sight of you in his sheets, something he wish he didn't have to cherish from how little free time he seemed to have.

"Mhm."

Once he'd hop in the shower, you'd get yourself dressed before pouring him a warm cup of coffee, occasionally placing any dirty dishes stranded in the kitchen in the sink as an act of courtesy. You'd check the time, 7:00am,

As much as it pained you to leave without a proper goodbye, you worried that Carmen needed space- that he didn't have time to pepper kisses along your cheeks before he left.

"Bye Carmy!" You'd call out, but not quite loud enough for him to hear from the bathroom.

He wished you would've stayed just a little longer.

Eventually, you caught on. At one point, you swore you saw Carmen popping his head back into his bedroom to see if you were still there as you were already halfway out the door. From that point on, you started leaving little notes next to his coffee, littered with "I'm so proud of you," and sweet comments like, "break a leg Bear," and sometimes even an "I'll see you soon."

Then it turned into spending all weekend, every weekend, in his apartment—even though you'd been stopping by the restaurant between closing hours, and spending a good hour or two with him every other day of the week.

It just wasn't enough.

You started bringing a share-sized blanket and bottles of your favorite drinks whenever you came over, which was practically 4-5 times a week by that point.That blanket ended up rotating between your apartment and his, until it finally resided on the couch.

Wrapping himself in that blanket whenever you weren't around, reminded him that there was something else to think about; that there was someone else who needed him just as much as he did them.

You started leaving little things like your hoop earrings on the kitchen counter, or your puffer jacket on his coatrack, wondering if they'd still be there by next weekend; wondering if Carmen would ever have the heart to give them back to you. (Spoiler alert, he kept everything you ever "forgot"' in the exact same spot. Having a piece of you in his home at all times seemed to make up for your absence during the week, even if it just made him miss you more.)

Then you started packing extra clothes with you that you'd stuff into an empty drawer in Carmen's dresser. You brought your travel-sized, makeup bag with you, which you just ended up leaving in his bathroom. Along with your meds, and your skin care, and practically everything else you couldn't live without.

...

"You should just move in at this point." Carmen let out a breathy laugh as he watched you do your makeup, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Not even 20 minutes ago, he saw you pick out an entire outfit from the spare clothes you brought, not even realizing that you left a pair of black shoes that went with everything, right in his shoe rack.

"I practically live here now," you paused to put on some mascara, your mouth gaping open as you tried to concentrate, "but my lease is up on the 23rd." You joked, twisting the cap on your mascara back on and tossing it into your makeup bag.

"I mean—would you want to? Live here? With—with me?" He physically turned to look at you, your reflection not giving him enough clarity. He needed to see you, whether you said yes or no. You felt your stomach turn, and the question seemed unreal.

"I— yeah, I guess. Only if you want me to, but that'd be pretty... cool." You turned your head to face him, gazing into his desperate eyes. He needed to be able to call this apartment "ours," not just "his."

This apartment felt more like a home than you than anywhere else you resided in Chicago. You made your commute to work from this apartment, you ate and showered and slept in this apartment, bits and pieces of you were tossed all around this apartment, you brought home every new piece of clothing and jewelry back to this apartment.

Carmen literally made you keep a spare key in your wallet, advising you to come over whenever you needed something—even if he wasn't home. He trusted you with his space,

He took it upon himself to buy you a toothbrush, the shampoo and conditioner you raved about after he complimented your hair, and extra pads/tampons/menstrual cups (since he wasn't sure what you used,) just for when his bathroom would be occupied by you. He cleaned out the hidden cabinet behind the mirror above the sink, making sure you had a place for all of your things. He moved all of his cologne, deodorant, lotion, etc in the cabinet underneath it.

All he ever wanted was to make sure you felt safe.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

don't give up on me.

Regulus Black x F!Reader

Summary: You're sick. Regulus knows that. But how can he convince you that you're worth saving?

Word Count: 6.5K

Warnings: IN DEPTH DISCUSSIONS OF EDS, WEIGHT LOSS, THROWING UP, FAINTING, HOSPITAL WING VISITS, ANY AND ALL ED-RELATED WARNINGS

AN: If this kind of content is triggering for you, PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING!!! nothing is more important to me than y'all keeping yourselves healthy - both mentally and physically! If this shit helps you then, here ya go :) (P.S. the summary is really bad sorry!!)

You ran back to the dorms, promising Pandora that you'd be back before breakfast. Lie.

Every day was pretty much the same: you weighed yourself on the muggle scale that you'd snuck into your bags behind your dad's back, and then based on that number, you'd eat. Or you wouldn't. It was easy to miss mealtimes - you'd make the excuse of needing to finish some homework or having forgotten something in the dorms. If you went to the hall during mealtimes, you'd put a little food on your plate and push it around to make it seem like you'd eaten loads when you hadn't touched anything at all.

If the number on the scale weren't acceptable to some extreme standard you'd set yourself to, then you'd spiral - only small amounts of food, you'd go on a run before dinner (strategically showing up late enough that there wouldn't be much left), calling yourself the worst names in the mirror.

It was a routine that you hated - you wanted to kick it, but you couldn't. It was a safety net. You needed control, and this was the only way to have it. It was your drug and you were dependent on it.

It had started as a need to look better, more like your sister. She was taller, skinnier, better at everything she did. You wanted that. So you started skipping meals, spending more time doing workouts - you'd bought one of those muggle aerobics DVDs, and you'd follow it almost every day. You lost a few kilograms in the first few weeks of summer, and the pride of achieving your goal outweighed the hunger pains and headaches. Your weight became an obsession to you and you weighed yourself after every meal and in the morning and night, and your diet to become healthier quickly became a desire to be smaller.

It didn't help that you remained invisible to everyone except your few Hogwarts friends. They owled you frequently, begging you to come up to London so you could spend time together, but you lived too far away for that to be possible. Your dad was busy all the time - it wasn't easy for him after the divorce - and your sister was busy with all her friends. They didn't like you very much, finding you odd as you went to school so far away. They left you alone for the most part - you only saw them when your sister agreed to drive you somewhere.

Not eating became natural after a while: the hunger pains stopped being painful, the headaches disappeared, and the desire to eat had all but disappeared. No one really noticed - you were pretty good at hiding your tricks - but your quickly shrinking body was noticeable. Your dad brought it up once, worried about how your clothes looked so big on your body: he offered to drive you to the doctors, wondering if being a wizard meant that you were more prone to getting sick. You shook your head, telling him that you were fine, but you made a mental reminder to buy much baggier clothes to hide the weight loss.

After that, you quickly went from loving your new body to despising it. You hid every inch of your skin even in the height of summer - hiding under baggy clothes, blankets, and behind pillows. You shoved your mirror to the back of your wardrobe.

By the time you went back to Hogwarts in September, your robes were far too big for you. You'd altered them sneakily: you kept the robes you had but they rested on your body better.

You'd avoided hugs from your friends, lying about an injured arm, but you'd happily reunited with them on the Hogwarts express. They all commented on how they were loving your new look - you smiled sadly at the reason. You remember getting off the train onto the platform - Regulus had helped you down from the train, gripping your hand tightly as you stepped off. As your friends dragged you away, you'd looked back at him. He'd looked almost concerned.

You came back to the Great Hall halfway through breakfast. You sat down with your friend, adjusting your collar where it was rubbing against your neck. You felt uncomfortable, almost like there was an emptiness in the back of your mind.

Pandora caught your eyes mouthing, are you ok? You nodded in response. You grabbed a glass of water and some fruit. Your throat was so dry and every single movement made you nauseous. It's fine, you told yourself, you can run it off before Charms. You're fine.

You were lying to yourself. You weren't okay, you had a problem and you knew it. But you couldn't pluck up the courage to go to Madam Pomfrey and get help. This was comfortable. You never wanted to go back to the way it was before - constantly hating your body for the way it looked in clothing, jealous of what others looked like. You'd take a few bad days like this over that.

You yawned. You were exhausted but your sleep wasn't restful or comfortable. Some parts of your body would always be sore when you woke up.

You felt someone move to sit next to you, and before you could turn to see who it was, they grabbed the apple out of your hand. You turned to protest, before seeing Regulus' pointed look and the knife in his hand. He began to cut up small slices and feed them to you, not giving you time to protest until the apple was finished and entirely consumed.

"Get a room lovebirds, someone from down the table called, but Regulus was quick to shoot them the finger. You smiled at that and Regulus let out a breath at the sight of it.

"It's nice to see you smile, canari. You don't seem to do it as much anymore," He said lowly, making sure his voice was only for you.

You pat his shoulder to reassure him, trying to hide your panicked mind behind gentle touches. He smiled at you before standing up to leave. He offered you a hand, which you gratefully took, and you both headed towards Defense Against the Dark Arts - your first lesson of the day.

That night, you had been planning on skipping dinner. You had convinced Pandora and Barty that you had an essay for Professor McGonagall that you hadn't even started, and they had believed you. They left you in the common room, promising to bring back one of your favourites - a Pumpkin Pasty. All was well.

You slipped out of your dorm room and down the stairs to the front door, heading out for a quick run.

"Where do you think you're going?" A voice cut through the cool air. You shut your eyes. Busted.

Regulus walked up to you, raising his eyebrows and waiting for an answer. "Tell me, Reggie, does growing up rich make you so entitled or are you just naturally a pompous ass?"

He laughed, throwing his head back, and grabbing your hand, "I'm going to let it go because you haven't eaten anything and you're probably hangry." He dragged you down to the Great Hall, even as you dragged your feet.

He pulled you in and sat you down by his side, piling your plate high with all the foods he knew were your favourite. If your anxiety wasn't spiraling, you would be touched that Regulus knew exactly what you liked and what you didn't.

People were sat all around the table, making small talk and eating. You took deep breaths as nonchalantly as you could, cutting up the food Regulus had piled on your plate. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem - you’d have a few days of no one noticing you skipping meals, then you could comfortably eat dinner with no worries. You could prepare for that. But, after breakfast this morning was sprung on you, you didn’t think you should be eating this soon. I mean you had only just run off the apple you had for breakfast. How were you going to keep your weight down if you were gorging yourself on the most unhealthy food every minute of every day.

You tried to join in with the conversation every so often, pushing things around on your plate as you did so. You thought you were hiding it well, but you caught Regulus glancing at you in concern, every time you finished speaking.

Catching onto this habit, you worriedly stood up, grabbing your things and getting ready to go.

“Leaving again so early?” Barty asked, grabbing your wrist. He looked at the wrist almost concerned but you tugged your hand away. You looked around the table before your eyes landed on Regulus, concern filling his face.

You swallowed nervously, “Yeah, I'm going to head up to bed. Goodnight,” You stepped over the bench and left through one of the back doors. Regulus watched you leave. Something didn’t sit right with him.

As soon as you rounded the corner, you picked up the pace almost breaking into a jog. You made it down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, heart pounding in your chest and nearly threw yourself up the stairs to your dorm. You closed the door and locked yourself in the bathroom. You were usually methodical about this process, you had a system. But you were desperate at this point. You tied your hair up messily and filled up a hidden water bottle at the sink before chugging it and turning to the toilet. 

Back in the Great Hall, Regulus decided that he was going to go check on you. He excused himself and bid everyone a good night - just like you had - before heading in the direction of the Slytherin dorm. 

You were bent over the toilet, retching. You hated this so much. It didn’t feel good - it almost hurt - but you felt so relieved doing it. You couldn’t explain it. It was somehow the one thing that helped you feel better.

Regulus quickly made his way up the stairs to face your dorm. The stairs were enchanted to stop the boys from climbing up them, but Regulus was able to jump and skip a few steps to make it to the top. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to you. Not now.

Regulus knocked on your dorm door, to which he was met with silence. You couldn’t hear him. Not liking the feeling in his gut, he slowly pushed the door open. To his surprise, you weren’t there.

From the bathroom, he heard the faint sound of someone retching. Regulus furrowed his brows. You hadn't seemed sick this morning. Why didn’t you say something? You were going to go on a walk, for Merlin's sake! Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the bathroom door, pressing his ear to the door. That was definitely you retching. He knocked. You froze.

“Canari? Are you okay in there?” He asked, leaning against the door.

Shit. 

You scrambled to get up, quickly flushing the toilet and washing your hands.

"Canari?"

You splashed your face with water before replying, “I’m fine, Reg.” You cursed yourself for the wavering in your voice.

You turned to the mirror - you were a mess, your tear-streaked face red and splotchy. You washed your face, trying to get rid of as much inflammation as you could. 

You took a deep breath and leaned against the sink. How could you have been so stupid? How were you going to talk yourself out of this?

“Can you open the door, please?” Regulus said. He was half intending to break the door down, but he wouldn't violate you like that.

You sighed and opened the door with your head down. You tried to walk past Regulus, but he gently pulled you towards him, your head resting just over his heart. His finger tilted your face upwards, his eyes widening at your red eyes and face. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” he asked.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You tried to pry yourself away from him, but he wasn't letting you go so easily.

“You’re not fine if you’re throwing up. What's really going on?”

“It’s nothing. I had a stomach bug over the summer. Sometimes it acts up a little. It's fine. I'm fine.” you affirmed. Your solidness was almost more to convince yourself than him.

One look at Regulus told you he was not convinced. He pulled you back into his chest. "You sure that's all it is? You'll tell me if it gets worse?"

"Yeah, Reg, I'll tell you if it gets worse. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

"It's okay, Canari. As long as you are okay, it's okay."

You managed to avoid any more confrontations until Christmas. You decided to stay at school over the Christmas holidays, like you usually did, which meant no friends to worry about your ever-growing problem.

You woke up to a dry throat and a pounding headache. The usual. You coaxed your body into slumping out of bed and you brushed your teeth. God, you looked a mess. The dark circles under your eyes were prominent and your face was pale and gaunt. You almost looked like a skeleton.

The sun was pretty high in the sky - it was probably almost afternoon. Shit. How could you have slept half the day away? It's fine you'll just have to stay up later tonight to finish all your essays. You walked out into the dorm to be greeted with 4 other empty beds - everyone else had gone home for the holidays. You figured it was probably safer to stay at school than to go home looking so terrible.

Begrudgingly, you pulled on a pair of jeans and a Slytherin sweater you were almost sure wasn't yours, and slipped down to the common room. You'd left an essay for Professor Binns in front of the fireplace - you had rushed to the bathroom after Barty had practically force-fed you a few. You'd blamed it on the fact you got a dog food-flavoured one (you didn't - it was chocolate brownie, which was almost worse), but the side-long glance Regulus had given you made you retreat into your dorm room for the rest of the night.

Still, you needed to finish that essay and you headed down the steps, pausing halfway down to calm your racing heart. The common room was cold and empty - it usually was in the winter, given that most Slytherin students went home for the break. You shivered violently - the cold that nestled into your bones in early October had refused to leave. Now, without at least a jumper or two under your robes, you were constantly shivering.

You glanced at all the tables - there was no parchment or quills. There was no one still here that would want to steal your essay or your quills, so you were surprised to see all your stuff gone and the common room completely clean. You searched everywhere in case the house elves had moved it while cleaning, but you couldn't find it anywhere.

Tears started brimming in your eyes knowing that those were the only quills you had and there wasn't much chance that you could afford to buy a whole set of new ones and finish your essay before Christmas day.

"Good morning, Canari." You whirled around to see Regulus standing behind you, his obsidian-black suit perfectly ironed and immaculately clean. His hair was perfectly coiffed - as it usually was - and his face clean of the stubble you knew that he was able to grow. Not a hair out of place. Never a hair out of place. Why couldn't you be more like Regulus - perfect without trying. Skinny and pretty and fun to be around. Not always worrying about if you were trying too hard.

A lone tear slipped out of your eye and down your face. Regulus was there in an instant, his hands grasping your face, thumbs wiping away any tears.

"What's wrong, Canari? Why are you crying?" Regulus said, pulling you into his chest. You felt him stiffen against you, his fingers running over your protruding spine. But you nestled into his warmth, the chill in your bones just barely sated by his heat.

You looked up into his eyes, sniffling, "Someone took all my stuff."

"What?"

"I forgot my stuff down here last night - my essay for Binns and all my quills were on the table, but now they're gone," your breathing picked up as you began to panic, "And I can't afford to buy a whole new pack of quills, which means that I won't be able to finish any of my other essays and Professor McGona-"

"Canari. I have your stuff." Regulus interrupted, his arms running up and down your back, "It's okay. I took it to my dorm before I went to bed. Here." Regulus led you to the staircase leading up to his dorm and made you wait as he dashed upstairs and got your things. He handed them to you in a neat pile before leading you back to your dorm with his hand on your lower back. "Put your stuff away and then come down with me. Let's eat breakfast together."

Alarm bells started ringing in your head. Eat? Now? With so much to do? How could you waste your time? But you couldn't make Regulus more suspicious of your behaviour.

You head down to the Great Hall with him, pulling at your sleeves as he placed all manner of pies and treats on your plate. You felt nauseated by the smell alone.

It didn't skip your notice how Regulus looked at you as if you were going to break at any second. Hell, he probably thought you already had.

You turned the corner off the path to head into the Forbidden Forest. If any of the Professors found you out here they'd give you a detention. That coincidentally would mean that you missed dinner. Two birds, one stone.

You set off on your run, keeping to the border of the forbidden forest, but deep enough in that no one would be able to see you without looking. You kept a steady pace - you were used to this routine. If you overate, you'd run until you felt exhausted and then you'd slip back into the dorm and skip dinner.

Except the snow was never normally this heavy and with every breath you exhaled a puff of smoke left your lungs. The inhales were almost painful, the cold air rough on your fragile lungs. You could hear your heart pounding in your head and your ears were starting to ring but you ploughed on.

What a mistake that was. You feel your foot slipping before you can even grab onto something. The next thing you know everything was black.

Regulus was worried. He'd paid close attention to your ever-deteriorating health, and he was worried, to say the least. After you'd run from lunch with him and Barty, he'd followed you back to the dorm. You hadn't even noticed him trailing you as you almost ran back to the common room. You'd slammed your dorm door shut and hadn't left for hours. You'd finally left when you thought no one was in the common room, dressed in some sweatpants and a jumper that was far too thin for this ghastly weather. He'd grabbed his own coat and a spare jacket for you, before following you through the hallways. He'd contemplated calling your name once, but clearly, there was something going on. And Regulus wanted to know what.

You'd slipped out of one of the doors to the courtyard and set off on a light jog down toward Hagrid's hut. That's odd, Regulus thought, you didn't have detention. Of course, it didn't pass his mind that you may just be running. After all, who would willingly go on a run in the middle of December in Scotland. Still, he watched as you ran down the steps that led to the now frost-covered pumpkin patches. Maybe you needed to collect something from him, he thought. Yes, that's probably it. Far more likely than Miss 'golden-girl' having a detention. Professor Kettleburn probably needed something and sent you to go get it.

His confusion only multiplied when you bypassed Hagrid's hut and disappeared into the thicket of the Forbidden Forest. Regulus picked up his pace, making sure that he wasn't caught as he followed your footsteps. He tried to keep up but you were always a faster runner than him, always making it to class on time even if you were both running late. He quickly lost you, having to resort to tracking your footsteps through the deep snow. He was ever more confused as to why you were out here - if anyone caught you here, you'd have a month's worth of evening detentions. Not the best way to start the year.

When he finally caught up to you, his heart dropped to his feet. You were lying face down in the snow, clothing soaked through. He knelt beside you, his hands running over your face as he softly called your name. Your skin was cold to the touch, causing Regulus to panic. He quickly bundled you up in the spare coat he brought with him. He removed the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around yours, before tucking your hands into the pocket of the jacket.

He hoisted you up in his arms, wrapping his arms securely under your body. He slowly started walking back to the castle, being careful to avoid anyone seeing him leave the Forbidden Forest - the last thing he needed was the both of you getting in more trouble. He carried you through the hallways to the hospital wing, rapping his knuckles sharply against the window while you remained unconscious in his arms.

Madam Pomfrey was quick to open the door and, at the sight of your unconscious body, ushered you both inside, helping Regulus to lay you on one of the free beds. She laid a thick blanket over you and dug out a heating potion to dispel the chill from your bones. Regulus just sat by your side and held your hand. It was ice-cold as usual, but somehow Regulus never wanted to let go.

"...Mr. Black?" Madam Pomfrey asked, but Regulus had missed the question while he was staring at you. He looked up at her questioningly, silently asking her to repeat the question, "I said, will you get some dry clothes for her? I trust that you have something you can give her."

Regulus nodded dumbly, leaving the hospital wing before breaking into a run. He ran upstairs and pulled a sweater and some sweatpants for you. They would be big on you but hopefully, they would keep you from getting too cold. His heart was pounding as he returned to the hospital wing.

He diligently gave the jumper and sweatpants to Madam Pomfrey, before turning around so she could change your clothes modestly. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, he wanted to tell Madam Pomfrey, but somehow he was sure that she wouldn't appreciate that sentiment.

Once she was done and you were nestled under two layers of blankets and in clean clothes, Madam Pomfrey turned back to Regulus.

"Mr. Black, I'm going to have to collect a report from this accident from you, if you would so oblige."

"Uhh, of course, yeah. Um, well," Regulus prided himself on being a good liar, but under so much pressure, not so much. "We found a - uh - salamander on the fifth floor by the library when we were studying there earlier. She said she'd go tell Hagrid so she headed down to his hut. I wanted to find her to finish my essay before dinner so I headed down to see Hagrid, but then I found her lying in the snow."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, "Did Hagrid find out about the Salamander?"

Regulus nodded, "Yeah, one of the third years told him. I heard them talking about it while I was looking for her." It wasn't a total lie. Two third years had found a Salamander by the fifth-floor boys' toilets. They'd told Hagrid, and Regulus had overheard them talking about it.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, sealing away the report and filing it away. Regulus stood up to go back to the common room when Madam Pomfrey stopped him.

"She's incredibly thin, Mr. Black. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Regulus shook his head, "It's worrying how underweight she is. You haven't noticed anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Regulus shook his head again before turning around to leave the hospital wing. He knew something was wrong. He just didn't know what.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you could feel was heat. You were warm. After months of being on the edge of freezing all the time, it was nice.

The second thing you noticed was the smell of cologne. A familiar cologne. Regulus' cologne. It was an expensive one - the Black family was rich and they weren't scared to show it off.

You opened your eyes slowly, grateful for the darkness. You looked towards the window to see that it was nighttime. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You could have sworn that it was just past lunch. You pushed yourself up further only to realise that you were in the hospital wing.

Before you could push yourself up even further, a voice interrupted you, "And just where do you think you're going, young lady?" Madam Pomfrey walked up to you with a glass of pumpkin juice in hand and two tablets. "You're dehydrated. And possibly have a concussion. You should be glad Mr. Black found you when he did."

Regulus found me? How the hell did he know where I was?

You took the pills from her hand and swallowed them down quickly. You savoured the taste of the Pumpkin Juice - it had been so long since you'd had the calorie-filled drink.

You turned to the door just in time to see Regulus walk in. It was as if he had exhaled for the first time seeing you awake. His shoulders dropped, his chest relaxed and all the tension in his face melted away.

He sat by your side gently, letting you finish the juice. Madam Pomfrey spoke up again, "Now, young lady, do you want to explain that nasty little fainting spell?" She said, her eyebrows raised as she scrutinised you.

"Uhh, well - I was - uh - walking down to Hagrid's hut, and - uh - my ears started ringing, and I think I fell." You said, your voice hoarse from disuse.

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you are underweight?" Madam Pomfrey pressed.

"I've just been nauseous the last few days." You lied quickly, slightly recoiling under her heavy words, "I think it's stress but it might be a bug. I remember Pandora complaining about her stomach the night before she went home."

Madam Pomfrey seemed convinced. Regulus less so. As soon as Madam Pomfrey left, he turned to you.

"You lied." You shifted nervously under his intense gaze.

"I didn't. I have been nauseous all week."

"If you were nauseous, why were you on a run?"

"I thought the fresh air might help."

"Fresh air in the Forbidden Forest? Bullshit." Your heart dropped. He'd followed you there.

"Why did you follow me?"

"Why were you there alone? If I hadn't followed you and you'd fainted, you would have been dead by the time anyone found you."

"Oh, so I guess that means I should thank you now, should I? Oh, thank His Lordship, Mr. Black for saving my life, even thOUGH NO ONE ASKED HIM TOO!" You exclaimed, seething. You threw his hands off you and tried to push him away but he refused to budge.

"Stop being difficult," Regulus said, pulling the blankets back over your frail body.

"OH I'M BEING DIFF-"

"JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!" He interrupted, his blue eyes blazing with fury. You could just about pick out the lingering concern that was embedded in his gaze. You saw red.

"GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" You pushed Regulus away with every ounce of strength in your body. He fell off the chair, crashing to the ground in an undignified heap.

You watched, in horror at what you'd done, as he walked over to the door. He cast you a longing glance as he left, almost as if he was begging you, pleading you to let him in, to not shut him out. To let him help you.

You sighed. You weren't sure if you could be helped.

On Christmas Eve, Madam Pomfrey let you go back to your own bed, with the promise that you'd visit her every day so she could check up on you. Regulus hadn't visited since you told him to leave, and a small part of you was glad that he hadn't. The rest of you had missed him dearly.

You felt him walk up to you as you lounged on one of the sofas in front of the fire.

"Room for one more?" He asked hesitantly, standing in front of you. You shuffled to the edge of the sofa to give him room to sit down.

"So how are you?" He said, hands toying with his wand as he tried to avoid staring at you.

"We don't have to do this, Reg. Can we just let it go?" You sighed, hoping that you didn't have to get into this conversation right now.

"Yes, we do. Tell me, Canari, are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine, Reg." You both sat in awkward silence, not exactly knowing how to approach this conversation. "I'm gonna - uh - go. Now. Uh - bye."

You stood up, trying to escape into your dorm room, but Regulus beat you to it - blocking you with his body. It wasn't fair that he was almost a whole head taller than you.

"No, what's going on? Are you sick?" Regulus insisted, hands coming up to brush your arms. You shuddered at the gentle touch, but he still didn't pull away.

“Reg-”

“Canari.” he insisted. "Don't lie to me."

You took a deep breath. "I'm sick," you whispered quietly, but loud enough for Regulus to hear it.

He shifted on his feet, “What do you mean?”

You looked at him, noting the tears building up on his lash line. Regulus never cried. More than once, Barty had joked that the 'snowman didn't have a heart'. You shook your head, "It won’t make sense."

"Then help me understand."

You took a few breaths, trying to get your thoughts in order. Regulus led you back to the couch, his large warm hands covering your cold frail ones. You tried to get your thoughts in order, tried to figure out where to start. Well, it's probably best to start at the beginning. “I don’t know what happened. I was just supposed to lose a little weight. I started eating less, doing some muggle workouts. And it worked. But now - now, now I just can't stop." you finished.

Regulus' face contorted to one of concern. You avoided his gaze, your eyes filled with tears at finally revealing your secret. Regulus pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. You nestled into them, your head of his heart as sobs started to wrack your body. Regulus held you tightly, whispering that it would be okay. He breathed deeply and steadily, hoping you would fall into rhythm with him. 

Eventually, your heaving breaths slowed, and you began to calm down. After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked “How long has this been going on?”

"Since the summer break. But I think the problem's been going on a lot longer than that." You whispered into his chest, defeated.

Regulus took a deep breath, his mind relaying all the suspicious behaviour he'd picked up on over the past term. "Why didn’t you say anything?"

You shrugged weakly, "It wasn’t your problem."

You jostled in his lap as he turned you to face him. "Canari. Your problems are my problems. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm here? Because I want to be here. For you. I want to help, Canari. Please." You avoided his gaze because you knew what you'd find. Genuine concern. Something you weren't sure if you deserved. "You always help me or anyone else whenever we need it. Remember when Pandora had those nightmares for months and every night you'd hold her hand until she fell asleep? Or when Barty told us that he was afraid of the dark so you gave him an enchanted tea candle that would never go out? Hmm? If we were going through this, wouldn’t you want to help us?"

"Of course, I would," you said firmly, tears building up in your eyes again. You rubbed the way with the corner of your sleeve, but Regulus caught your hand.

"So why can’t you let me help you the same way?" he asked, his eyes shining with sincerity.

You shook your head lightly, "It’s not that simple, Reg."

"Why?"

"Because.”

"Because what?"

"It's just not the same," you said a little louder, pushing yourself off his lap. You had to put a distance between him and yourself, or you knew that you would break. You turned around heading in any direction that was not here, not in front of the only man capable of reducing you to tears.

"I don't get it. What’s the difference between me and you? Why can’t you-"

“Because I don’t HATE you!” you exclaimed, turning around to face him again. The pain in your eyes was evident as you tried to shrink further into yourself. Regulus was up in an instant, cradling your head in his hands as if you were a porcelain doll. You took a shuddering breath, "It’s not the same thing because I don’t hate you. I want to help you all, because you are good people, and I like you."

Tears streamed down your face as the confession spilled from your lips. You told him about everything, the loneliness, the self-loathing, the punishments, everything. Regulus stood there as you sobbed in his arms and confessed to him, taking every beating and tucking it away in the corner of his frozen heart that was reserved for you.

When you had finally settled, Regulus looked at you sadly. His gaze was heavy as if he was trying to see if there were any other secrets you were hiding. "Is that really how you feel about yourself?" he asked, saddened even more when you began nodding. "What did you do that was so wrong?"

You didn’t know. The loneliness that had plagued your childhood had melted into the insecurity that you didn't belong anywhere, and you never would. So slowly, you accepted that you never would. Your voice was weak when you spoke up again, "I'm sick, Reg. I know that. But I don't think this kind of sick can be healed by one of Madam Pomfrey's potions. People catch colds or break bones - those can be fixed. And once it's fixed, it won’t bother them again. But this," you gestured your body repeatedly, "this I don’t know if I fix. I don’t know how, I don’t know where to start. It’s me against me. It's a losing game. I’m not the kind of sick that gets better, Reg," you shrugged slightly and shook your head.

Regulus wrapped his arms around you tighter, "There's always a cure."

"Not for me."

"No. You're not giving up. YOU CAN'T FUCKING GIVE UP WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN TRIED TO GET BETTER!" Regulus wasn't one to lose composure ever. In fact, Regulus wasn't one to show much emotion at all, but here he was, crying and yelling over you. Trying to convince you to get better. He tucked his chest into you, whispering, "Please. Please, you can't- you can't leave me here. Not alone, please, Canari."

You rested your face on his head, your cheek pressed against his beautiful curly hair. You stayed like that, you pulled into his lap, his head cocooned into your chest, your head laying on the top of his head. Both of you expended every last tear in your body before he spoke up again.

“Can I try to help?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean you want to get better? Right?" Regulus removed himself from your chest and looked into your eyes. His hands traveled to rest on your face. You nodded. "You can always talk to me about anything," You avoided his gaze, "you know that right?"

At the uncertain look on your face, Regulus stiffened. You quickly spoke up, "It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do, but-" You paused thinking how best to word this.

"Yes?"

"It’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you," you said, your voice trailing off as you spoke. "I don’t want to fuck up and end up hurting you because I couldn’t be better. I don’t want you to worry every bloody day. You don't deserve that." you took a deep breath and looked away again. "I don’t want you to leave because I couldn’t be strong for you."

"Is that really what you think I would do?" Regulus asked, his tone growing angrier. You cowered under his anger, and Regulus noticed. He tried to level his breathing as he continued, "I would never be disappointed with you, because you're trying your best. You said it: you're sick. And sometimes it takes time to heal. And you're healing for you, so that you can have a happy life. A long life." He paused, considering whether to add this next part, "No matter whether that life has me in it."

You leaned into him again, his arms wrapping you into a tight hug. Your life would always have Regulus in it, no matter how long, short, sick, or healthy it would end up being. Regulus made you promise to go back to Madam Pomfrey in the morning to tell her the whole truth.

"Promise you will be there the whole time?" you asked softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, and exhaustion washed over you.

His arms tightened around you, "I promise. As long as you promise not to give up. Even when it gets hard."

You smiled your first proper smile in what felt like an age.

"I promise."

fin.