#DO THEY HATE ME AND ME SPECIFICALLY??????

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐭

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: drew appears on the late late show with james corden to play the infamous game ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’. little does he know, you had previously been on the show and specifically requested he be invited.

warning(s): english is not my native language. mild language, secondhand embarrassment, extreme cheesiness and boyfriend material overload.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

based on this request

“Alright, Drew,” James started, rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, welcome! We are so happy to have you here.”

“Thank you, man, I appreciate it,” Drew said, shifting in his seat.

“Though I gotta say, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

James let out a dramatic laugh.

“As you should! Because, as you saw, your lovely girlfriend Y/N was here not too long ago. And guess what? She personally requested you to be here tonight!”

Drew groaned playfully, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I knew it!”

“And,” James continued, “she also made sure we included dark chocolate, which I assume is some kind of inside joke?”

Drew exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Yeah, uh, I hates dark chocolate. Like, passionately. So this is definitely her way of messing with me.”

“Well, my friend, she succeeded!” James laughed.

“Now, let’s get started! First up…”

He gestured toward the table, dramatically lifting the first lid.

James scrunched his nose.

“Oh, this smells absolutely disgusting. So, Drew, here’s your first question: What is the most annoying habit Y/N has that drives you crazy?”

The crowd gasped playfully. Drew tilted his head back, laughing.

“Oh man, I can already hear her reaction to this.”

“Would you like a bite of pickled pig’s feet instead?”

James wiggled his eyebrows.

Drew shook his head.

“No, no, I’ll answer. Uh… okay, Y/N is literally the most perfect human, but if I had to say something…”

He exhaled dramatically.

“She never puts the cap back on the toothpaste. And she squeezes it from the middle instead of the bottom, and it kills me.”

The audience burst into laughter.

“That is valid,” James agreed.

“She’s an amazing actress, but a toothpaste menace.”

James pulled out a glass filled with a murky, grayish-green liquid.

“This is a sardine smoothie. And your question is: What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for Y/N that she doesn’t even know about?”

Drew winced at the drink.

“That looks awful.”

“It is awful,” James confirmed. “So spill it.”

Drew thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Okay. There was this one time when Y/N had a bad day she didn’t say anything, but I could tell. She had this childhood book she lost years ago, so I spent weeks tracking down a first-edition copy. I left it on her nightstand with a note, but I never told her it was me.”

The audience awed loudly.

James clutched his chest.

“That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life!”

Drew shrugged, grinning. “I just love making her happy.”

James lifted the lid, revealing a large, slimy cow tongue. Drew grimaced.

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“Then answer this,” James smirked.

“Out of all of Y/N’s past on-screen romantic co-stars, who do you think had the best chemistry with her?”

Drew’s jaw dropped as the audience gasped. “Oh, come on!”

“Answer, or it’s cow tongue time!”

Drew groaned.

“Fine. If I’m being honest… I hated watching her with Jake Gyllenhaal. They just had way too much chemistry, and it made me so jealous.”

James burst into laughter.

“You paused the movie, didn’t you?”

Drew sighed. “Paused it. Left the room. Came back an hour later and still wasn’t over it.”

James lifted the plate.

“Drew, Y/N personally requested the chocolate, but we added wasabi. Your question: What’s the cheesiest thing you say to Y/N in private that you would never say in public?”

Drew groaned.

“Oh no. Nope. I refuse to expose myself like this.”

“You sure?” James taunted.

Drew sighed. “Fine. I call her ‘my little sunshine bean.’”

James lost it. “SUNSHINE BEAN?!”

Drew buried his face in his hands. “I knew this was a mistake!”

James wiped his tears.

“Alright, last one. You have to call Y/N and let her ask you a question. Answer, or take a bite of fermented tofu.”

Drew sighed dramatically before dialing your number.

“Drew?” your voice filled the studio. “Are you on Spill Your Guts?”

The crowd cheered.

“Yeah, baby, I am. And James is making me call you.”

You giggled. “Okay… If you had to get a giant tattoo of my face anywhere, where would you put it?”

Drew groaned as James cackled.

“Fine! I’d put it on my ribs. Right over my heart, happy now?”

You gasped dramatically. “That was actually a really good answer.”

James smirked. “What’s a role you regret turning down or missing out on?”

Drew sighed. “I was this close to being in a Western movie, and I regret not pushing harder for it.”

James lifted the bowl. “If you could travel anywhere right now, where would it be?”

Drew smiled. “Greece. I wanna take Y/N and just disappear on an island for a month.”

James leaned in. “What’s your dream project?”

Drew grinned. “Something I can do with Y/N. Whether it’s a rom-com or an action movie, I just wanna work with her.”

James clapped his hands.

“Drew, you survived!”

Drew blew a kiss to the camera.

“I did it for you, baby!”

[stars-obsession-pit]

Hello! Can do a chapter fic off this fic prompt Danny phantom x dc: https://www.tumblr.com/corkinavoid/767516270934556672/dpxdc-legal-power?source=share

This isn’t a one-to-one recreation of that dialogue but it’s based on that as a framework/premise

Batman dropped down into the room behind a pair of figures—a teenage boy and a slumped adult—letting his landing create an audible thump to alert them of his presence.

If the teen noticed, he didn’t react. Even as Bruce approached, he continued to stare impassively at the wheezing figure on the ground, an old wooden bat with flaking green paint on its side loosely held in his right hand. Bruce had already suspected who the figure would be since he arrived, but seeing the Joker so broken was still bizarre. No laughing, no schemes. He didn’t even seem to be attempting to escape his binds, just… lying there, almost as if pinned in place.

Bruce paused a step behind the teen. “I don’t know what the Joker did to you, but this isn’t the right way to go about this.”

The teen scoffed, and Bruce felt a painful lurch in his chest as he was reminded oh so strongly of his son Jason. “And what, let him go kill more people?”

“I know he deserves to face justice, but not like this. Everyone deserves a right to fair trial. No one person should be judge, jury, and executioner.”

The teen turned to look at him with glowing green eyes, and Batman felt himself freeze. He had faced gods before, yet even using that as a comparison felt like an understatement. The boy’s eyes belonged to someone far older than his teenage form implied, and they radiated power. Inevitability.

When the teen—no, the entity—spoke again, his words carried an unearthly echo. “Perhaps, but I’m not acting for just myself.” He paused, glanced down at the Joker, then asked almost conversationally, “Do you know how many people he’s killed?”

Another pause, but before Bruce could even try to answer, the entity continued, “Eight hundred and fifty-six. He’s ended the lives of eight hundred and fifty-six human souls. I can tell you about every single one, if you want. About who they were, what their dreams were before he killed them. About the pain they felt at his hands.”

He punctuated the word ‘pain’ by raising up the wooden bat in his hands and ramming its end down onto the Joker’s arm. He let out a wheeze, muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“I have a duty to my people. I am the King of the In-Between and of all the souls that pass through it—even ones whose stays were as brief as his. I am the rightful arbiter of his fate. And with that power, I sentence him to death.”

He raised the bat again, adjusting his grip so he’d hit with the side rather than the end this time, then paused and let out a chuckle. “Of course, just because it’s based on some justice doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with it too.” He swung the bat down, slamming it into the Joker’s side, then hooked it under the clown’s torso and flicked him up through the air to slam into the wall. “We all really hate this guy.”

With the entity’s attention fully turned away from him as he sauntered towards the Joker’s slumped figure, Bruce could finally unfreeze himself.

Even if the Ghost King did have the right to pass judgement on Joker, Bruce still couldn’t let torture go on like this. He wouldn’t win a direct fight, but he could hopefully at least grab the Joker and bring him over to the police. Carefully, he reached for some of the smoke bombs and batarangs on his belt and readied his grapple. He’d have to do this very, very fast.

But before he could move, another figure entered the scene. Red Hood, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the room, an unexpected bit of a pep to his step.

“Nice to see someone else who gets that that bastard needs to die. But if I may make a suggestion, how ‘bout you use a crowbar instead of that old bat? It’d be a bit more… fitting.”

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 9

paige x azzi

word count: 7.3k

A/N: I don’t even know. I’m real iffy about this (i hate it) but a lot of people wanted it so here we are lol. This is honestly a random ass chapter and it’s a little all over the place. There’s at least a common theme throughout the chapter which is good I guess! Let me know what you think :)

—————————————————————————

Paige has been chronically offline since the accident. Of course she still scrolls on her accounts but her social media presence was almost nonexistent—just a collection of sponsored ads and the occasional basketball dump that, knowingly to fans, was usually Azzi’s doing these days. If it weren’t for her teammates tagging her in posts, some people joked they’d forget she even had social media.

Because Paige was so inactive online, fans paid extra attention to her whenever she did show up. Every glimpse of her—whether it was a blurry background appearance in someone’s TikTok or a split-second cameo in an Instagram story—became something to dissect. It wasn’t just about what she was doing, but who she was always with.

Azzi wasn’t much better when it came to social media. She posted more than Paige, but that wasn’t saying much. Her feed was mostly basketball, occasional glimpses into her workouts, and sometimes a rare photo dump. But what fans noticed most was that, when she did post anything remotely fun or glimpses of her life, Paige was often in the videos.

It started subtly—Azzi posting TikTok trends with the team, Paige reluctantly included but always standing closest to Azzi. Then, she’d randomly post duets of them. Ones where Paige didn’t even try to hide her smile when Azzi pulled her into frame, or where she’d roll her eyes but still play along, because it was Azzi. Fans ate it up, stitching their videos with captions like Azzi is the only one who can make Paige do anything.

Then there were the off-the-court moments. Paige and Azzi getting caught whispering on the bench regardless of who was sitting in between them. The way Azzi’s hand would linger on Paige’s arm after huddles, or how Paige always seemed to turn to Azzi first when she was talking.

None of it was concrete. But to fans who had been paying attention, it was enough to start putting the pieces together.

The suspicion grew more on a random night after a game. KK, Aubrey, and Ice were piled in one of the team suites, Ice’s phone was propped up on live. They weren’t talking about anything in specific—just answering questions, talking about the game, and laughing about something they were trying to explain they saw from the bench.

In the background, Paige was in her own world, sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone like she didn’t even know the live was happening. Which wasn’t unusual. Paige was rarely the one front and center in these kinds of things, and the fans knew it.

But that didn’t stop them from trying.

The comments flooding in.

Pls get Paige in the camera!

Can Paige come say hi???

Ice glanced over her shoulder. “Yo, they’re asking for you,” she told Paige, shifting the camera slightly to show the fans her reaction.

Paige didn’t even look up from her phone. She just shook her head, laughing. “Nah, I’m good.”

The comments started flying in:

SHE LAUGHED OMG

She always does this 😭

Why is Paige allergic to cameras but will be in every single Azzi TikTok?

KK snickered, reading the comments in her head but not saying anything out loud. She, Ice, and Aubrey went back to talking about what happened on the bench during the game, reenacting the moment that had them in tears. The chat kept moving at full speed, fans still begging for Paige to come into frame, but the three ignored it, too caught up in their conversation.

After about 15 minutes the door to the suite opened, and Azzi walked in with Jana.

When they stepped in, Ice perked up. “Look who it is!” she said, grinning.

“Come say hi to the live real quick,” KK said, motioning for them to get in frame.

Jana, always down, strolled right over and leaned into the camera. “What are y’all doing?” she said, reading some of the comments as they flooded in.

Azzi, on the other hand, didn’t fully step in. She just popped her head into frame, flashing a quick smile. “Hey, guys,” she said casually before popping back out.

With the addition of Jana, the energy in the room picked up again. Ice, KK, and Aubrey focused on interacting with fans. The chat was flying, a mix of people laughing along and still—relentlessly—begging for Paige to get in the camera.

KK was the first to notice. She shook her head and nudged Aubrey, who glanced at what KK was pointing at and laughing. Jana and Ice caught on next, and within a few seconds, the four of them silently reached an agreement.

They all turned toward Paige simultaneously, eyes wide, lips jutted out in exaggerated pouts.

Paige, still lounging on the couch, didn’t even have to look up to know something was off. They had gotten way too quiet. With a small sigh, she lifted her head—only to be met with four identical, pleading expressions staring directly at her.

She blinked. “That looks like a scene from a horror movie.”

KK snorted, but no one broke character.

Paige let out a long sigh before pushing herself off the couch. “Alright, alright, chill,” she mumbled, as she walked toward them.

The live chat exploded:

NO WAY SHE ACTUALLY GOT UP THE POWER THEY HAVE

We finally won 😭

She stepped into the frame and forced a tight smile. “Hello,” she said simply.

She looks like she’s being held hostage 💀

Someone check if she blinked twice

Paige glanced down at the screen, reading through a few of them which were definitely inappropriate and shook her head. “Y’all are crazy,” she mumbled.

Then, her attention shifted slightly—just past the camera.

Her lips curled into a small grin, subtle at first, but it grew when her ears tinged a faint shade of red. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. Her voice was softer, more familiar, like she had completely forgotten they were on live.

The chat instantly reacted.

WHO IS SHE TALKING TO??

Wait, what’s happening?

Y’all saw that shift in energy?? HELLO???

Just then, another voice mumbled something from behind the camera. "You look cute when you’re all shy like that."

Paige’s smile deepened as she shook her head, a small huff escaping her lips. “Did I say I was shy?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

WHO JUST SAID THAT??

Was that Azzi???

NAH WHOEVER THAT IS HAS HER FLUSTERED

Paige is actually blushing. I’m sick, it's not me.

Azzi’s voice came again, a little clearer this time, but still low enough that it wasn’t obvious who was speaking. "You don’t have to say it. I can see it."

Paige bit her lip, eyes flickering downward for a second before shaking her head again. “Mhm,” she hummed, her amusement clear. “That’s crazy.”

Now the fans were in full meltdown mode, scrambling to piece it together.

HELLO???

WHAT IS HAPPENING.

WHO IS SHE TALKING TO??

KK glanced down at the comments, but she hadn’t been following the chaos leading up to them. All she saw was "Who’s behind the camera?"

“Oh,” she said, reaching for the phone. “It’s just Azzi Fudd Fudd.”

She turned the camera toward Azzi, who barely had time to blink before being on the live. Azzi gave a small smile, waving before KK propped the phone back in its original spot.

OH. MY. GOD.

IT WAS AZZI LMAOOO

THE WAY SHE WAS JUST STANDING THERE?? HELLO??

Paige, babe, be so real with us right now. Like be fr.

Paige, for her part, had already retreated back to the couch, stretching out with an arm over the backrest.

Eventually, Azzi wandered over, standing in front of Paige, who tilted her head up to look at her. The fans couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t matter because Paige had that goofy grin on her face—the one she only ever gave Azzi.

Paige picked up her phone, holding it out in front of her as she showed something to Azzi. Azzi took it, leaning down just a little closer, her eyebrows furrowing as she examined the screen. The fans could see her jaw drop in mock disbelief.

“Absolutely not,” Azzi said, shaking her head with a playful, incredulous tone.

Paige looked shocked. “Wait, what?” she asked, but before Azzi responded, she was turning to walk off frame, clearly trying to hide a grin.

Paige jumped up from the couch to follow her. The camera caught her moving quickly, her hand still holding her phone as she trailed behind Azzi, just as the two disappeared off-camera.

A moment later, a playful squeal is heard, followed by Azzi’s laughter. “Paige, stop!” she yells through her laugh.

There’s a bit of shuffling—movement that suggests a playful struggle—before Paige’s voice comes through. “You act like you don’t like it.”

After that there was a soft thud, like someone bumping into furniture, then the distant click of a door shutting.

KK glances toward the door before turning back to the screen, eyebrows raised.

As time passed and Paige and Azzi still hadn’t returned, the live became chaotic, with Ice and KK taking over, entertaining fans the best way they knew how—by arguing.

“Bro, you literally just said the opposite like five minutes ago,” Ice argued, pointing at KK.

“Girl boo. No, I didn’t,” KK shot back.

“Oh my God bro yes you did,” Ice insisted, shaking her head. “Somebody roll the tape.”

Then, someone finally asked:

Where did Paige and Azzi go???

KK glanced at the chat. “Prolly with they boyfriends.”

Ice turned her head, eyes widening before she let out a snicker, barely holding back her laugh.

GIRL BE SO FR RIGHT NOW.

WITH WHO???? NAME NAMES.

ICE LAUGHING CAUSE SHE KNOWS.

Paige and Azzi somewhere laughing at us rn.

KK YOU’RE NOT FUNNY (yes you are but still).

After that live, it seemed like the fans were watching their every move. It wasn’t like Paige and Azzi were hiding anything—it was more that they weren’t about to make any official announcements, nor were they ever planning on doing anything overt in front of the cameras.

Still, the speculation never stopped. Fans were divided—some adamantly claimed the two of them weren’t even gay, others argued they were just best friends, while a small group swore up and down that something was definitely happening between them. Despite all the chatter, Paige and Azzi never commented on it. And that, in itself, said enough.

There were no denials, no confirmations, just the two of them continuing on with their lives, the bond between them only becoming more obvious with time. It was clear to anyone who paid close enough attention that Paige and Azzi were something more than just teammates, more than just friends. But until they decided otherwise, everyone would have to keep guessing.

…

The podcast started, and the two of them were settled in front of the mics, the cameras already rolling. Paige looked a little stiff at first, clearly still not quite used to the whole “podcast” thing, while Azzi was a little more relaxed.

The Overtime WBB manager gave them a thumbs up, signaling for them to just start talking, telling them they’d chime in if they needed anything..

Azzi leaned into the mic first. "Hi, I’m Azzi Fudd."

Paige raised a hand, half-waving at the camera. "Paige Bueckers."

Azzi flashed a grin. "Um so, we’re partnering with Overtime WBB for a few podcast episodes, and honestly, it’s just gonna be a yap session. Nothing too serious. Just us talking and they’re going to clip whichever parts they like."

Paige chuckled at that. "Yap session? That’s one way to put it."

Azzi turned to her with her grin still in place. "Basically what it is. And yes, you have to participate."

Paige huffed as she leaned back in her chair. "I don’t know why I got picked for this.”

"You know exactly why you got picked for this."

Paige just shakes her head, picking up some of the cards they had in front of her, flipping through them absentmindedly. She wasn’t quite sure where to start.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cards in Paige’s hands. "So, how do you wanna do this?"

Paige looked up, smiling softly. "You can start."

Azzi leaned forward, giving Paige a look. "Just so you know I’m not running this whole thing. I’ll let you sit there being mysterious for a little bit though."

Paige laughed. "I’m not tryna be mysterious. I’m just… tryna figure out how to talk into a mic without sounding awkward."

Azzi laughed softly. "Just act like we're on the phone or FaceTime or something."

Paige gave her a look—one silently saying, you definitely don’t want us doing that.

Azzi caught the look and rolled her eyes slightly, laughing again. "Okay, maybe let’s not do that."

Paige nodded with a grin on her face. "Exactly."

Azzi shook her head, picking up the cards in front of her. She scanned through a few trying to find one that she knew would relax Paige a little bit. After a second she turned back to Paige with a grin. “Who's the best shooter on the team?"

Paige snorted. "Me."

Azzi raised an eyebrow "So, we're starting off the first episode with lying, huh?"

"Azzi, I’m a better shooter than you."

"Really? Do we wanna tell everybody what happened yesterday after practice?"

Paige sat up in her chair as she squinted her eyes at Azzi. "You mean when you cheated and threw your ball in the air on my last shot?"

Azzi grinned. "You still missed. Meaning you lost."

Paige shook her head. "You cheated.

Azzi’s grin only grew as she shrugged nonchalantly. "You're just a sore loser."

Paige shot her a glare. "I’m a sore loser? You still can't admit I beat you in a one-on-one."

"Because you didn’t win."

Paige threw her hands up. "Bro, I was up 18-17!"

Azzi’s grin only grew when she saw Paige getting riled up. "Exactly. It was win by two. So, no, you didn’t win."

Paige let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. "Whatever."

Azzi laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I’ll let you be delusional today but we both know what's good."

Paige smirked a little at this but didn't say anything back. Just raised her eyebrows at Azzi before she looked down at her cards. After a moment, she picked one out and glanced up at Azzi.

"Would you rather be stuck in a room with me or Coach for 24 hours?"

Azzi snorted, her face lighting up with amusement. She pretended to think for a moment, tapping her chin dramatically before glancing at Paige with a grin. "I don’t know man...that’s a tough one...you’d get a little annoying after like hour ten."

Paige dropped her jaw in disbelief, looking at Azzi like she’d just been betrayed. "Wowww."

Azzi's eyes sparkled as she looked back at Paige. "Still…I’d rather be stuck in a room with you, Paige."

The way she said it and the way she looked at Paige as she tilted her head slightly, made the words hang in the air for a moment. There was a beat of silence, the slight tension between them clear to everyone in the room. Paige held Azzi’s gaze, and for just a second, neither of them said anything—too caught up in the weight of the moment.

Paige’s smile faded slightly, her heartbeat a little louder in her ears. Azzi blinked, breaking the spell, and leaned back casually in her chair, her grin returning like nothing had happened.

Azzi flipped to the next card, reading it over before glancing at Paige with a curious expression. “Who's the hardest player to guard in college basketball?”

Paige barely hesitated before answering, her voice smooth in the mic. “You.”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard for a split second before a slow smirk spread across her face. “Oh?” she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Go on.”

Paige rolled her eyes at Azzi’s reaction but continued. “You’re shifty, your release time is basically nonexistent, you can get to the rim, and you never stop moving. It’s annoying.”

Azzi grinned, clearly pleased. “Annoying, huh?”

Paige nodded. “Very.”

“So what I’m hearing is, I give you problems.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “Alright I never said allat.”

Azzi turned to the camera, her smile still present. “You hear that, everybody? Paige Bueckers just admitted that I’m the toughest player she’s had to guard. Basically said she can’t guard me.”

Paige groaned, rubbing her temples. “See, this is why I don’t say nice things. Your head gets bigger than it already is.”

Azzi laughed, clearly enjoying every second of Paige’s frustration, before turning back to the camera. "I swear she’s a lot nicer to me when she isn’t in front of a camera."

Paige scoffed, tilting her head slightly. "That’s funny, ’cause I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Azzi smirked. "Oh yeah?"

Paige nodded, her eyes locked on Azzi. "Mhm. You act all innocent in front of people, but when it’s just us? Whole different person."

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "What kinda different we talkin'?"

Paige leaned forward, a smile forming on her face. "The kinda different when you’re all over me."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "You’re wild for saying that on camera."

Paige shrugged, her smile growing. "What? It’s not like I’m lying."

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider if she was going to play into this with Paige. "You’re the one who gets all soft when we’re alone. Acting like you don’t melt the second I touch you."

Paige let out a soft laugh. "I don’t melt."

Azzi smirked. "You do."

Paige and Azzi exchanged a look before breaking into quiet laughter, clearly amused by how quickly their conversation had derailed.

"Now look who's flirting on camera," Paige teased.

Azzi shook her head, feigning innocence. "They can cut it out."

Both of them instinctively glanced to the side where the Overtime WBB crew stood, watching. One of the staff members, who had been jotting down notes, simply nodded. "Say no more," she mumbled, scribbling something down—probably making a note to edit out that part.

The staff member finished jotting down notes and looked up at them. "Alright, we’re going to do a speed round of questions to see how well you two know each other which should give us enough to wrap it up for today."

Paige and Azzi both nodded, settling in. Paige glanced at the paper, huffing out a laugh when she saw the question. "What’s my go-to order?"

Azzi snorted. "Chicken tenders and fries."

Paige grinned, satisfied with the answer, but Azzi wasn’t done as she adds, "She eats like a toddler."

Paige gasped. "No, I don’t! They’ve just never failed me. Gotta stick with ole-reliable when I go to new places."

Azzi shook her head, laughing, before reading the next question. "What’s my pregame ritual?"

"You always have to poop right before the game."

"This is true."

Paige continued easily, describing Azzi’s pregame routine as if she had been Azzi’s teammate for years. "But other than that, we both listen to the playlist I made, you tie your shoes a certain way, right first then left, and then you stretch longer than everybody else so you can pretend like—"

Azzi cut her off, eyes widening. "Alright, alright, let’s not spill all my secrets!"

Paige chuckled saying, “What you got opps?”

Azzi mumbles out, “Probably.”

Paige just laughed, shaking her head. She glanced down at her paper again. "What’s one of my pet peeves?"

Azzi didn’t hesitate. "When people chew too loud."

Paige pointed at her. "Facts."

Azzi looked slightly toward the camera before turning back to Paige. "Any time somebody chews loudly, she physically looks like she’s in pain. She’s too nice to say anything, though."

Paige rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she moved on. "Alright, what’s something I always say on the court?"

Azzi laughed instantly. "‘That’s off’—you used to only do it when you shot and knew it was about to miss but you’ve started doing it when I shoot now too."

Paige laughed. "Cause you gotta rebound more so I’m tryna help you out."

"Yeah whatever."

Paige gestured for Azzi to go next.

Azzi glanced down at the paper in front of her, skimming a few of them before asking, "What’s my guilty pleasure TV show?"

Paige leaned back in her chair confidently. "Any Bachelor or Love Island spinoff. You swear you don’t care, but then you get way too invested every time."

Azzi playfully rolled her eyes but grinned. "Okay, fair."

Paige wasn’t done. "Then you force me to watch it with you every night and start asking questions like, ‘Why did he pick her over the other girl?’"

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Alright you’re just adding all the extra details to these questions. "

Paige gave her Azzi smile and shrugged. "That’s the game, right?"

Azzi exhaled, looking down to hide her blush before picking her next question. "What’s something random I love?"

Paige didn’t even blink. "The smell of fresh laundry. You always say it’s one of the best smells in the world."

Azzi raised an impressed eyebrow. "I’m surprised you got that one so quick."

Paige shrugged like it was obvious. "That’s because every time you do laundry, you take a deep breath and say, ‘That’s elite’ before you make me fold em."

Azzi covered her face laughing. "Okay, stop exposing me!"

Paige just grinned before asking the next question. "What’s something that instantly annoys me?"

Azzi hummed. "When people take too long to tell a story."

Paige pointed at her again. "Oh my god bro! If you have a five-minute story, please don’t take twenty minutes to tell it."

Azzi shook her head, smiling. "She gets so impatient when people don’t get to the point. I can literally see it on her face. Then she starts fidgeting around like a child."

Paige let out a dramatic sigh. "Because why are you dragging it? Just get to the point!"

Azzi laughed, nodding before glancing at her next question. "What’s one of my biggest fears?"

Paige’s smirk faded slightly as she answered the question softly. "Not reaching your full potential."

Azzi blinked, the playful air between them shifting just for a moment. Paige held her gaze, the answer coming too naturally—reflecting the long conversations and late nights the two of them shared talking about things like that.

Azzi nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said softly before clearing her throat and forcing a smirk. "That and spiders."

Paige let the moment pass and grinned. "Yeah, those too. You basically crawled up my back when there was a spider in my bathroom once"

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, next question."

Paige smirked. It was clear she was enjoying herself. "What’s something I do when I’m overthinking?"

Azzi exhaled, already knowing the answer. "You play with your ring on your finger and if you’re trying to not be too obvious because I’m around you bite the inside of your cheek."

Paige stared at her for a moment before grinning because of course Azzi had picked up on the second one "Okay, stalker."

"I just pay attention to you."

Paige didn’t say anything for a second, just held her gaze with that small smirk of hers.

After a beat of silence—just the two of them smiling at each other—the staff member cleared her throat. "Alright guys thank you. I think that’s good for today."

Azzi turned toward them, flashing a polite smile. "Sounds good, thank you."

Paige, however, was still looking at her, that smirk lingering like she knew something Azzi didn’t.

Azzi stood up, stretching her arms above her head before mumbling under her breath, "Stop staring at me creep."

Paige leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms—eyes never leaving Azzi. "Not my fault you’re in my line of sight."

Azzi rolled her eyes but glanced over her shoulder, seeing which staff members were still lingering around. After a second, she seemed satisfied with what she saw and then turned her attention back to Paige.

She moved closer, standing between Paige’s legs, her presence drawing Paige's gaze upward. The smirk on Paige’s face never faltered.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, a glint in her eyes as she reached out to take Paige’s hand, fingers casually playing with hers. "What?" she asked.

Paige tugged gently at Azzi’s hand, pulling her down into her lap. "I like your hair like that," she said softly, her fingers playing with the ends of Azzi's curls as she settled her more comfortably.

Paige glanced up at Azzi, smiling up at her softly. "This okay pretty?"

Azzi looked around again, checking the room before her gaze returned to Paige. She nodded, her voice quiet. "Yeah," she replied, settling into Paige's lap.

As soon as she got confirmation Paige pulled Azzi into a kiss by her jaw. Azzi’s hand instinctively found its way to Paige's cheek, her fingers tracing her face as she kissed back, both of them losing themselves in the moment for a while.

When they broke apart, Azzi whispered softly, her breath still warm against Paige’s lips, "You did well. I’m proud of you baby."

Paige chuckled, her smirk returning as she leaned back slightly. "Thank you."

Azzi raised an eyebrow at Paige’s demeanor, her tone teasing as she asked, "Did you like it?"

Paige, still with that same smirk, shook her head playfully. "Nope."

Azzi laughed, her fingers gently running through Paige's hair as she leaned in again, clearly enjoying the playful tension between them. "You're cute," she mumbled affectionately, her lips brushing Paige's temple.

Azzi’s fingers gently continued to play with Paige’s hair, a soft rhythm as they both relaxed into the moment. Paige let her head fall back against the chair completely, closing her eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over her. The warmth of Azzi’s presence beside her always felt grounding.

Azzi, always attuned to Paige’s needs, let her take the brief moment of quiet. She shifted slightly, resting her head against Paige's shoulder, her hand still lightly grazing Paige’s hair as she hummed softly when she smelt Paige’s cologne, content to simply be there.

But the stillness didn’t last for long. A soft voice broke the moment. "Hey, sorry to bother you guys."

Azzi blinked, her eyes opening to see a staff member standing nearby. She straightened up, offering a polite smile, though there was still a relaxed air about her. "No problem," Azzi said.

The staff member looked at both of them. "Just wanted to check in to see if there's anything else from the podcast you want to be taken out, besides that one portion we already talked about?"

Paige opened her eyes, glancing over at Azzi showing she fully expected her to answer it for them.

"I think we're good," Azzi said, giving Paige a quick look to silently confirm. "Just that one part...everything else should be fine."

Paige simply nodded in agreement before closing her eyes again.

The staff member made a quick note on her clipboard. "Alright, cool. Just wanted to check in before we wrap up. You can just message us if anything else comes up."

As the staff member walked off, Azzi shifted back into a more relaxed position, her fingers resuming their movements through Paige’s hair. She mumbled, "Kinda crazy how we spent our off day working."

Paige mumbled in response—her eyes still shut. "Tell me about it."

Azzi huffed out a soft laugh, amused by Paige’s tired tone. She leaned in and kissed Paige’s neck gently, the brief contact making Paige grin.

Pulling away just enough, Azzi sat up, looking down at Paige with a small smile. "Let’s get you back to the room before you pass out sleepyhead," she said softly as she helped Paige sit up.

Paige stretched slowly, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she finally met Azzi’s eyes, still smiling. "I’m not sleepy… just...happy I don’t have to talk."

Azzi grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever you say," she replied. Her eyes softened when she noticed the way Paige’s eyes were starting to droop. "You’re gonna pass out the second we get back to the room, aren’t you?"

Paige didn’t answer right away, but the lazy smile on her face and the way she leaned slightly on Azzi as they began to walk was enough of an answer. Azzi shook her head in amusement, offering her a gentle nudge as she led the way toward the door. "I knew it," she mumbled with a grin.

Once small clips of the podcast were released, the attention on Paige and Azzi only grew. The fans were watching more closely if possible, dissecting every interaction, every glance, every touch.

The two of them didn’t mind. Paige who was still reacclimating to the overwhelming attention, was more reserved around fans in general. But one thing she never did was change how she acted with Azzi. Whether cameras were on them or not, Azzi remained within reach—adjusting Paige’s hoodie strings, fixing her chain, brushing something off her sleeve. Small gestures that didn’t go unnoticed because there was no one else on the team doing them.

It was ironic, really. Fans remembered Paige playfully yelling at Ice during a livestream, claiming she hated being touched after Ice bear hugged her. Yet, with Azzi, she never seemed to mind.

Some of the more in-tune fans noticed subtle shifts in their demeanor when they were in public versus when they were on lives or behind the scenes. Paige was usually the protective one—shooting glares at the team when they bothered Azzi, draping an arm around her when she was pouring about something. But when they were at games or events, surrounded by fans, the roles seemed to reverse. Azzi subtly became the protective one.

She was the one gently guiding Paige away from crowded situations, standing just slightly in front of her when fans ran over to them too quickly, placing a hand on her lower back when the attention became too much. People other than just fans were starting to notice.

"Have y’all realized that Paige acts all big and bad with the team but the second they’re in public, Azzi’s the one protecting her???"

"No, let's talk about it bc Azzi is always making sure Paige is comfortable in crowded spaces and I think I’m gonna cry."

…

The event was supposed to be simple—meet fans, take pictures, sign a few autographs. And if this had been two years ago, it probably would have been much calmer. But things had changed.

With the rise in popularity, the number of fans crowding the venue had grown, completely filling the space with excited chatter and eager energy. People called out players' names, some holding jerseys and posters, others just wanting a quick interaction. Paige, despite being a transfer, had been welcomed with open arms. And if there was any doubt before the event, it was clear now—these fans completely adored her.

Azzi was caught up in conversation, taking pictures, signing things, flashing smiles when she needed to, but every so often, her eyes drifted toward Paige.

At first, it was just out of habit—glancing over to check in, to get a quick glimpse of her girlfriend.

But then, the crowd around Paige continued to grow.

Azzi’s stomach tensed as she watched more people press in, everyone trying to get a moment of her attention. At first, Paige didn’t seem to mind. She was still smiling, still quietly answering questions.

But Azzi knew better.

She remembered one night, months ago, when Paige had admitted, almost offhandedly, “Since the accident I get really claustrophobic sometimes. Not all the time, but when too many people are around me, and I can’t move the way I want or go where I want, it just…gets to me I guess.”

Azzi hadn’t forgotten.

Which was why she kept glancing over now, watching the way Paige’s shoulders stiffened just slightly, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. The way she was playing with the ring on her finger was always a clear sign of discomfort.

Azzi didn’t hesitate to make her way towards her after that. She didn’t rush, didn’t make it obvious—just started subtly making her way toward the crowd, offering a few more smiles, taking a couple more pictures along the way.

Azzi was nearly there when she saw Paige tensing as a fan wrapped an arm around her waist for a picture. It might have looked normal to anyone else, just a casual pose for the picture but the fan's arm was pressed securely around Paige’s torso, right where her scar was.

Paige didn’t say anything. She just offered a tight smile, her fingers still idly twisting the ring on her finger relentlessly.

Sliding smoothly into the group, Azzi greeted the fans with her usual warmth, her voice light. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”

The distraction was enough. The fan instinctively loosened her hold as she turned toward her, and in that split second, Azzi slid in. “Mind if I hop in for one?” she asked, flashing her grin. Before the fan could fully process it, Azzi gently moved their arm away from Paige, positioning herself in the middle instead. The way she did it was subtle—done so effortlessly that no one would think twice about it.

The picture was taken, and Azzi smiled at the fan before signing something for her.

After that she turned toward the group smiling as she said, “Sorry, guys, I need to steal her for a second,” already reaching for Paige’s hand to tug her away from the group.

Azzi guided Paige toward the exit, her hand resting lightly on Paige’s back as they weaved through the maze of people. As they neared the door, Azzi caught CD’s questioning look from nearby. With a simple glance, CD silently asked where they were going.

Azzi mouthed, Just taking a quick break.

CD gave a small nod of approval, trusting them both, before turning back to the chaos of the event.

Azzi led Paige toward the team's coach bus, still parked out front. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the heat of the packed venue, and the moment they stepped onto the empty bus, Paige exhaled deeply. They slid into a random seat, and as soon as she was sitting, Paige dragged her hands down her face, finally letting herself breathe.

Azzi didn’t say anything at first. She knew Paige needed a moment to gather herself. Instead, she just sat beside her, letting the quietness settle between them.

But when she noticed Paige starting to zone out, her eyes becoming unfocused, her fingers idly twisting the ring on her hand again, Azzi reached over and gently took her hand.

“What’s going on in that pretty head?” she asked her softly.

Paige let out a quiet breath, giving Azzi a small, appreciative smile before shaking her head. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she admitted, “I don’t know if I can do this, Az.”

Azzi’s brows knitted together as she turned toward Paige. “What do you mean?”

Paige let out a slow exhale, her fingers still playing with the ring on her finger. "I don’t know how to do this whole public figure thing anymore," she admitted, her voice quiet. "Before the accident, it was easier. Even though it was hectic, I could handle it—I loved it. But now… everything’s just harder. Social media, interactions, all of it."

Azzi frowned slightly, wanting to ease her worries. "You don’t need to be a public figure to be a basketball player P."

Paige simply gave her a look—one that silently told Azzi they both knew that wasn’t true.

Paige took a deep breath before continuing, her tone filled with frustration. "How am I supposed to be a face of a league team when I can’t even handle a crowd at a damn bowling alley?"

Azzi sighed softly before adjusting, hooking her arm through Paige’s and leaning her head against her shoulder. She reached down, replacing Paige’s hand with her own as she began absentmindedly playing with the ring on Paige’s finger, both of them staring ahead in silence for a moment.

Then, after gathering her thoughts, Azzi finally spoke. "You’re going to be perfectly fine, baby."

She paused, knowing she needed to explain why in a way that made sense to Paige. After a brief moment, she continued, her head still resting against Paige’s shoulder. "You’re so easy for people to love, to root for, to gravitate to."

Azzi lifted her head slightly, glancing at Paige before leaning down and continuing. "The moment you announced you were transferring to UConn, your name was everywhere. Every sports outlet, every social media page—everyone was talking about the return of Paige Bueckers." She paused, her fingers still gently twisting the ring. "You didn’t even have a social media presence and brands still threw the craziest deals at you."

Paige listened quietly, her chest rising and falling steadily as she took in Azzi’s words.

"You went from not being mentioned on draft boards to jumping into the first round after what…four games?" Azzi tilted her head slightly before laughing at herself. "I started rambling and kinda lost my train of thought."

Paige chuckled softly, the sound warm as she kissed Azzi’s head before leaning her own against Azzi’s.

Azzi smiled before letting out a quiet breath. "I guess my point was, I’m saying all of this to remind you that despite everything you went through, despite how much it still weighs on you. How much you still want to work on…you’re a light for everyone else. You’re a genuine person, you have the sweetest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. You’re talented, honest, and just…” Azzi pauses to gather her thoughts, silently thanking the universe for giving her someone like Paige. She continues saying, “You’re just an amazing human baby. And people don’t see that a lot in public figures these days."

Paige closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words settle.

"You could never post on social media again, you could hire a social media manager to handle everything, and people would still love you," Azzi continued. "They love you even when you don’t interact with them. Just being in the same room as you is enough for some of them. Just getting a glimpse of you—I don’t know if I’m cut out to make the decisions but if I was a GM that sounds like a damn great person to build my team around.”

Paige swallowed, her fingers curling around Azzi’s. She didn’t say anything right away, but the tension in her shoulders slowly began to ease.

Azzi squeezed Paige’s hand gently, grounding her before she continued. "No, you might not be the same Paige from high school—the one who filmed TikToks with kids after games and didn’t mind when hundreds of people waited for her and warmed her." She glanced up, making sure Paige was listening. "But this version of you? This perfect version of you that I love more than anything in this world. You still find time to make people’s day, even when you don’t realize it."

Paige exhaled softly, her body relaxing against Azzi.

"It’s gonna take time to get used to it again," Azzi admitted. "And that’s perfectly fine. Until then, just doing it in small bursts is enough." She played with the ring on Paige’s finger again. "And just so we’re clear—you are not obligated to give your time to anyone."

Paige let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking her head slightly.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smile forming. "What?"

Paige turned to her, her blue eyes soft and filled with something Azzi recognized instantly. "I just love you," she whispered. "And I’m so thankful that God brought you into my life."

While Paige was saying this, Azzi's brown eyes were locked onto Paige’s blue ones the entire time. Her heart swelled, a slow smile forming as she whispered, "I love you too beautiful."

Azzi held Paige’s gaze for a moment before suddenly perking up. “One sec,” she said, standing up before Paige could question her.

Paige watched in confusion as Azzi walked toward her actual seat on the bus, rummaging through her bag. “What are you doing?” she said, brows furrowing.

“Hold on,” Azzi replied, focused as she finally pulled something out. She turned back, making her way toward Paige again, a small box now in her hand.

When she reached her, she held it out. “Here,” she said. “Open it.”

Paige looked at the box, then back at Azzi, suspicion flickering across her features. “Azzi…”

Azzi groaned, already anticipating the resistance. “Don’t be difficult.”

Paige huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head before finally lifting the lid. Her breath hitched when she saw the delicate silver necklace inside, a heart-shaped locket resting in the center. She blinked, stunned, before looking back up at Azzi, who was watching her with a soft smile.

“Open the locket,” Azzi said gently.

Paige carefully lifted the necklace from the box, her fingers grazing the cool metal as she unclasped the locket. Inside there was a small picture staring back at her—one of the first pictures they’d taken together. The memory was still so clear even though it seemed like two different versions of them.

A lump formed in Paige’s throat as her fingers trembled slightly, tracing the edge of the locket. No one had ever given her something like this before—something so thoughtful.

Azzi shifted beside her, watching her reaction closely. “You always say I make crowds and things like that easier,” she rambled. “So, I wanted to give you that—so you know I’m always there, even when I can’t be physically next to you.”

Paige took a long exhale, her chest tightening in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Slowly, she looked back up at Azzi, her blue eyes glistening.

“Baby…this is beautiful,” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the empty bus.

Azzi smiled and reached for the locket. “Here, let me put it on.”

Paige turned slightly, pulling her hair to the side as Azzi unclasped the necklace and carefully fastened it around her neck. Her fingers lingered for a moment, rubbing the back of Paige’s neck gently which only made her chest fill with more warmth.

When Paige let her hair fall back into place, her fingers found the locket resting against her shirt. She held it lightly, rubbing her thumb over the surface. “I love it,” she admitted, her voice softer than before, more vulnerable. “I love you.”

Azzi grinned, nudging Paige’s knee with her own. “I know.”

Paige rolled her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Bro you’re annoying.”

Azzi laughed, nudging her one more time. “I love you too, big head.”

They sat there for a moment in comfortable silence, both knowing they needed to head back inside. With a shared sigh, they stood, their fingers brushing briefly before Azzi stepped toward the door.

Just before they stepped off the bus, Paige gently grabbed Azzi’s wrist, stopping her in place. Azzi turned, a silent question in her eyes, but before she could say anything, Paige tugged her in, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips.

Azzi, of course, kissed her back, her hand resting on Paige’s hip, rubbing a few circles against her skin before she pulled away slightly. “You ready to go back to the chaos?”

Paige huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Not really,” she admitted.

Azzi grinned. “Too bad. I gotta go be the people’s princess.” With that, she grabbed Paige’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze before pulling her off the bus. As they neared the entrance, they made sure to drop their hands, slipping seamlessly back into the world that was waiting for them.

This time, though, Paige felt much better about everything.

[annadasniper]

bro- rant under the cut because I hate that this is actually how some people act nowadays

man there are times where I get so pissed because I see people just like this, trying to use God and the bible to justify hate, when love is literally what could be considered the main theme of Jesus’ whole message. Love each other, be good people, and believe in God are legit his major teaching points and so many people, Christian or not, forget that a lot. One of my favorite quotes from a meme is God saying “Why is no one loving thy neighbor? I specifically requested it!” Man rant aside this stuff pisses me off so much the people who say this shit are the people who actually need to read the bible and get disproven. Saying you’re Christian doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole to people who have different beliefs. Anyway how is your day going?

And for the record, the bible never says that you get to murder or even hate people you don’t like, in fact it advises heavily to not do that

[rafes-slut]

Stacking donuts on it

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x bratty!reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, playful teasing, food play, light humor, established relationship, mild language.

Summary: you were bored at home so rafe comes over and brings you donuts then you talk him into letting you stack donuts on his cock

---

It was a painfully slow day. The sun was out, barely a breeze in the air, and you were bored out of your mind. You had scrolled through social media more times than you could count, tried watching something on TV, and even considered cleaning your room—but nothing sounded remotely appealing.

Then, it hit you. You wanted something sweet. Specifically, donuts. And who better to get them for you than your doting boyfriend

So, you called him, and after some light convincing borderline demanding), he agreed to bring them over. Because, well—he was a good boyfriend. Most of the time.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You grinned as you swung it open, and there he stood, looking effortlessly good as usual, a white bag in hand.

"You’re lucky I like you," he muttered, stepping inside and holding up the bag.

"I know I am," you teased, pecking his cheek before snatching the bag from his hand.

You both settled onto the couch, and as you took your first bite, you found your gaze drifting to him. He was sitting comfortably, leaning back against the cushions, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of the absolutely genius idea that had just popped into your head.

You swallowed your bite and licked the glaze from your lips. "Rafe."

"Hm?" He didn’t look up.

"Can I stack donuts on it?"

His thumb paused mid-scroll. He blinked, then slowly turned his head toward you. "On what?"

You gave him that look.

"No." His answer was immediate.

"But—"

"No."

You pouted, shifting closer to him. "Come on, Rafe, just let me try—"

"Absolutely not."

"Please?" You dragged the word out, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Just a few. I just wanna see how many I can stack—"

"You’re insane," he muttered, rubbing his forehead like you were giving him an actual headache.

"You love me," you countered, grinning.

"Not right now."

"Rafe," you whined, dramatically draping yourself across his lap. "Pleeease?"

He sighed, head falling back against the couch. "This is the dumbest shit you’ve ever asked me to do."

"So, you’ll do it?" Your face lit up with hope.

Another deep sigh, then a grumbled, "Fine."

You squealed in victory, practically bouncing as you reached for him. "Okay, okay, sit back—"

"I hate you," he muttered under his breath, but he was already undoing his jeans.

You ignored his complaints as you eagerly helped free him, your excitement only growing when he was fully exposed.

"Okay," you said, grabbing the first donut. You carefully placed it on top, watching it balance perfectly. "Oh my god."

Rafe groaned, running a hand down his face. "I can’t believe I let you talk me into this."

You snorted, grabbing another donut. "Hold still."

"Hold still?" He huffed. "You act like this is normal—"

"Shhh, you’re ruining my focus."

He grumbled something under his breath, but he stayed still as you continued stacking. Three. Four.

"This is art," you declared, biting your lip as you admired your masterpiece.

"This is stupid," he countered.

You grabbed your phone. "I need a picture."

"Absolutely not—"

Too late. You snapped one before he could stop you, grinning at the screen.

"You did not just take a picture," he said, glaring.

"I absolutely did."

"You are so annoying."

"And you are so good at staying still," you teased. "Ooh, wait—"

You leaned down, took a bite out of the top donut—while it was still stacked—and snapped another picture.

Rafe groaned. "You better not show that to anyone."

"Obviously not," you laughed. "This is for my own personal entertainment."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you done?"

You pouted, admiring your work one last time. "Yeah, I guess."

"Good," he grumbled, shoving the donuts off himself and pulling you into his lap instead. His hands grabbed your waist, holding you firmly against him.

"You owe me for this," he muttered, his voice suddenly deeper, more serious.

Your stomach flipped. "Owe you?"

"For my suffering." His grip tightened, his lips ghosting over yours. "I think I deserve a little reward for putting up with your bullshit."

You grinned. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?"

He smirked. "Let me show you."

[sirithesillies]

hello people i was given cocon and im so bored so take way too much info about me (more than you will ever need):

obligatory this is a hella long post below :) :

i have multiple names, and therefore multiple middle names !!! notable ones are Luci (Lucifer or Lucious, whichever idc) && Nex :)

rn? 15 bodily

July 31st :D :D

^ that makes meeee a leo >:)

i like reds, greens, n purples

2 or 7 :D

YEAH !!! i have a bearded dragon named buddy, and i also share three dogs (sasha, sheeba, and albus.)

i was born in indiana? i think? but we moved so often iderk. lived in britain for a while but don't think i was born there?

a measly 5'3 :(

uhm.. american women's 8 1/2? i think?

13, 14 if you count roller blades and 1 maybe 2 if you count the ones i actually wear

uhm i was. sleeping.. in my dream.. it was a dream about me trying to fall asleep and it was really comforting though so win-win

i was told i took to crochet really quickly? i work for all of the skills i have, much to my dismay.

i have amazing vibe detectors to the point people use me as a problematic-partner-bloodhound. this works for all people MINUS the ones that are around me✌️

my music taste is super finicky !!! i've posted about it before but lowk i dont rlly have a favorite

v for vendetta at the moment...

i have a variety of mental illnesses so someone who can match my freak frsies.. i need a lot of attention and give it in return so i just need someone whos chill parallel playing like 20/6 or wtv..

i like the idea of kids and i'm good with them in short bursts of time, but i would be a HORRIBLE parent, so probably not unless i fix that :)

im not sure lowkey, haven't thought much about it. i would rather it just be personal honestly

im a polytheistic kemetic and hellenistic pagan, which means i work with both egyptian and greek deities :) i worship Sekhmet, Ra, Bastet, Apollo, Hera, and Poseidon :) I... do a lot honestly :sob:

doctors fear me, nurses love me, and i know medical staff by name. surprisingly that's gone down a lot this last year or two but i also have chronic breathing issues so i go to the hospital fairly often

yeah :sob:

not that i remember at least

baths for special occasions ONLY, showers above all else otherwise

theyre green and white with christmas puppies on them :D

i've had a work of mine go #1 on the charts on webtoon if that counts :sob: i also ran a decently big editing account in like 2020-2021 on tiktok

i'd love to be as well-known as a celebrity, but lowkey i know i'd hate actual fame, and i'd get so overwhelmed being famous. i'd need to be someone with an avatar or mascot in front of me so i could still live a semi-normal life

discussed above in my "favorite song" question, but i like a bunch !!! metal, rock, pop, hiphop, rnb, emo/scenecore songs, etc. etc. etc.

no and i DO NOT WANT TO !!! you will never catch me naked anywhere near a lake, let alone in one.

8 of varying sizes.. im also counting very specific stuffed animals but not all of them, since i use some of them as pillows

on my side curled up...

we live in a two story house with one main story and a basement. main floor has two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen and living room combo, while the basement has one bedroom (mine!!), one bathroom, a free space, and our laundry room n pantry :)

i dont. actually eat breakfast.. uhm i like Krave brand cereal with strawberries and i like bagels either with normal cream cheese n strawberries, or fried with ham and an egg

yes i have

yes and i SUCK at it

out of all words? тоска. it sounds like "toska" and is some immeasurable yearning from the bottom of one's heart. smth smth i like words for their meanings because reducing one to its sound is superficial or smth. fr tho for a word i think sounds nice, try "eloquence"

cunt... stickin to the classics here. fuck and shit are ALSO high up here.

a very, very, very horrible 14 and a half days. it sucks. don't do it.

yeah :sob: i have scars all over if you care to look tbh, most of them have luckily just faded

not to my knowledge?

i don't like lying, nor do i make a point to practice. i don't think i am? i tend to panic and give shitty stories when i lie. so.. nah, don't think i am

for all people minus those who matter to me. lord.. show me a picture of a person and i can clock little things about them, but if someone obviously is being horrible to me? nahhhhhh theyre such a nice person they would neverrr...

nope!! can't fake accents very well. i mean.. i can kinda do a southern one ig?

i can speak with an american accent, but i speak pretty naturally with a brit one. one of my largest flaws..

i think slavic and arabic accents are gorgeous..

uhmmm my mbti is INFP-T, and im. sorta just.. me on here... idk how to describe my personality :sob:

i HATE wearing expensive clothes. most expensive article of clothing i own? a carhart jacket that's older than i am

yeppers :)

innie..

ambidextrous :) i use my left primarily to write and my right for almost everything else

no, but i don't like them on me and am terrified of black widows.

I like banana pudding? im not picky at ALL honestly

i like so many... the basic bitch answers of i like most mexican and chinese dishes, but i also like viet and indian foods... uhm im again not picky

im a mess :sob:

"woof..." "oh gosh" or "HELP???" are frequents

idk lowkey i use a lotta words a lot. yapper core...

15-20 minutes from the time i wake up to the time i'm out the door

diagnosed narcissist goes crazy

i just.. let lollies melt on my tongue... no sucking or biting required.. no conscious effort... just leavin it there

uhm i talk outloud to think but also this is biased of multiple consciousnesses in one so it's sometimes hard for me to pin if im.. just.. monologuing purposefully for a headmate or if im just thinking to myself.

i hum, but not sing :)

i think so, but who m i to say

terrified of death, horrified of being forgotten, and i despise being alone..

god no i hate gossip

no clue honestly..

medium

all 50 states AND all european countries

ela and art

ambivert :)

no but i used to live on an island near the mariana trench and it woulda been so fuckin cool to say i scuba dived near the mariana trench..

uhm various people and touchy subjects ig? im not very easily made nervous

YES and i will NOT be taking slander for it

uhm it depends? sometimes i do, sometimes it isnt worth it to, and other times i don't

yeah

no

kinda? hard to say but uhm uhm uhm

goose lore...

.....gooose lore........

a kid named Jack that i will not be getting into for aforementioned lore reasons

rn i only have my one ear piercing, but i used to have my tongue and cheeks pierced too. i wanna get my septum done and my lips (angel fangs or snakebites) when m older

yes if i try hard enough..

anywhere from 60-100 wpm depending on what im typing and if i know what i want to say. but i also fuck up a lot, so.

not very fast..

natural blond rn but i wanna dye it lowkey

blue-green, but ideally brown :)

used to be allergic to red food coloring, but now im just allergic to tylenol... lame..

yeah !! i use digital websites to :)

my father is in the military and works a variety of handymen jobs, and my mother is a hairdresser

ehhh the people around my age that i know are hit or miss, but im not getting any younger and i sure as hell don't wanna be older so

sm stuff :sob: im hard to make mad-mad but there are a few things that make me annoyed. it takes a LOT of time and effort though so yk.

im decently happy with it- there's a slight disconnect from it but overall i think my names are nice :)

Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

i really honestly don't care... i dont think much would change with it, right??

i like to think im nice enough, and im smart enough at stuff to say it blankly. im good at my art stuff and im fine enough to take care of myself for the most part :)

im lowk impulsive and i have major trust and abandonment issues :sob:

"August" i stole from auguste toulmouche, sirius is a constellation i relate to (and a certain character that i also liked), and keres was a name that i just. came with. i started using it again recently :)

im not sure, but im directly related to alexander graham belle. like, the guy who made the telephone. family's wiped from all records due to divorces n the like, but yeah :)

im lucky enough that a lot of them are faded, but i have scars pretty much everywhere if you care enough to look for em tbh

my sheers are grey and my blankets are mismatched.. but my comforter is black and so are my two pillow-pillows

My room walls are green and my floor is a brown carpet :)

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[ldydeath]

I'm Yours | Choi Seung-hyun (T.O.P)

Summary: You and Seunghyun can’t stand each other. What’ll happen when you two get stuck in an elevator? Warnings: None Author’s Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you like it!

“Oh shut up, Seunghyun.” You rolled your eyes, throwing a piece of popcorn at your friend as he continued on about whatever he and Jiyong were talking about.

His eyes widened and he crossed his arms as he turned to look at you, halting his words mid sentence. Jiyong let out a small laugh, shaking his head before he walked to the other side of the room. You and Seunghyun’s arguments could get ugly and slightly annoying, Jiyong wanted no part of that.

“Why do I have to shut up and he doesn’t?” Seunghyun pointed a finger in Jiyong’s direction and you shrugged.

“Because I like Jiyong and I can’t stand you.” 

“I hate you.” Seunghyun pouted, a glare on his face as he made his way back to his friends. 

You shrugged a satisfied smirk on your face as you watched Seunghyun walk away. You didn’t know why you liked annoying him so much, but you didn’t think you’d ever stop. Ever since you’d started working with BIGBANG you’d had this relationship with Seunghyun. You figured your relationship with the other guys was pretty normal but there was something about the way you’d bicker with Seunghyun that you just really enjoyed. 

Your eyes wandered around the room before stopping on Seunghyun again, he was tall and incredibly handsome, sure, but there was this soft side underneath his hard exterior and it was beautiful to see a man so confident in himself to let that show often. He shifted and you looked down, pulling out your sketch pad. There was no reality in which you’d live it down if you got caught staring at him. 

You had been working on a costume design for Deasung when you noticed a shadow on your book and looked up with a raised brow. You’d expected it to be Jiyong peeking at your work to give you some ideas and were genuinely surprised to see Seunghyun standing over you. He never really took interest in costume designs, just wearing whatever was picked out for him. But yet here he was, looking over the outfits with a look of interest. Almost like he had something to add.

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh, slamming the book down and catching a glimpse of your watch in the process. You groaned, standing up and packing up your items. Seunghyun watched you with an amused look on his face and you glared at him.

“Were you just going to stand there all day or actually tell me we needed to go? We’re going to be late now.” Seunghyun shrugged at your words. Of course he didn’t care if he was late.

“More fun this way, isn’t it?” He smirked.

“I hate you.” You grabbed his arm, yanking him out of the room. 

“Okay, okay, you can let go!” Seunghyun cried as he ran after you. 

You let go of his arm, shooting him a glare as he adjusted his jacket. The two of you stood awkwardly next to each other as you waited for the elevator to come. He had an outfit fitting and if he was late then everyone would be late and you’d never hear the end of it - or go home at a decent time. Clearly feeling bad for messing with you, Seunghyun ushered you to get on the elevator first and you leaned against the wall as the doors closed.

You quickly typed a text in your phone alerting your team you were on your way when the elevator came to a halt. You looked over at Seunghyun who gulped, and you sucked in a breath. The elevator was stuck. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You tried to hide the panic in your voice. 

Seunghyun turned to look at you, remembering that you had a fear of tight spaces, specifically elevators and his face softened. As much as he loved to give you shit, now wasn’t the time. Besides, he was kind of crazy about you and if he needed to hold your hand through this, who was he to complain. 

“Hey, it’s fine. Look, I'll press the call button and we’ll be out of here in no time.” He pressed the button, waiting a second only for the button to do nothing. 

“Oh, great.” 

“It probably just takes a minute.” He shrugged walking over to you, he hesitated a second before grabbing your arm, turning you to face him fully. “We’re going to get out of here, I promise.” 

You nodded your head, reaching into your pocket for our phone, trying to stay unaware of just how close Seunghyun was to you. Your heart raced and you hoped that if he could hear it he’d assume it was the fear of being stuck in an elevator and not the affect he had on you for being so close. You clicked on your texts, sending a mass one out to alert everyone that Seunghyun - and yourself were stuck in the elevator. Security would have you out quicker if they knew he was in here with you. 

“There. Everyone knows now.” 

“I would’ve thought of something like that eventually “ Seunghyun pointed to your phone with a small smile on his lips and you let out a laugh. 

“Sure.” You took a small reluctant step away from him and chewed on your bottom lip.

This was not gooey for many reasons. You couldn’t be alone in a large room with Seunghyun, let alone an elevator. It was too obvious that you had feelings for him when you were alone with him. You were going to have to play it cool so that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings. You placed a hand on your chest, taking a few deep breaths to calm your heart rate. 

Seunghyun watched you with amused curiosity. One of the many reasons he loved to tease you so much was how cute you were when you flustered. Even if this wasn’t the best of circumstances, he was glad to be alone with you. 

“Want a distraction?” Your eyes widened, confused as to why he was being so nice and nodded your head at him. “I have feelings for you.” 

Your eyes snapped to his, surely you hadn’t heard him right. Maybe he was joking. The way he was looking at you though? It didn’t seem like a joke. 

“Very funny, Seunghyun.” You rolled your eyes. 

Seunghyun closed the distance you’d been working so hard to keep and gently cupped your face. His eyes stayed locked on yours before darting to your mouth and then back to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission to kiss you. Your heart sped up and you nodded your head. His lips were on yours in an instant. 

Your arms ran up his chest, gripping his shirt and pulled him in closer, you kissed him back with such passion, all your feelings for him pouring into the kiss. You’d waited for this for so long and you could hardly believe he felt the same way. Seunghyun pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting yours. 

“I wouldn’t joke about this. Not with you.” You nodded your head, your eyes closing as you caught your breath. 

“I have feelings for you too.” The words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were back on yours. 

His arms wrapped around you tightly pulling you closer as your arms moved from his chest to his shoulders. You pushed his jacket down off and he shrugged his arms out of the sleeves, his mouth breaking the kiss to trail open mouth kisses down your neck. God, this was perfect.  Just as his lips met your collarbone, the elevator began moving again. 

“Fuck.” Seunghyun cursed pulling away from you and reaching down for his jacket. As he shrugged it back on you fixed your top and let out a sigh. 

“You guys ok?” Jiyong appeared as the elevator doors opened and you nodded your head at him. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re good.” Seunghyun nodded. 

Jiyong raised a brow, looking between the two of you a knowing smile on his lips. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened in that elevator, it was just unfortunate that the guy who knew Seunghyun the best was the one who’d met you there. 

“I knew it!”

“Shut up Jiyong.” You folded your arms as you made your way off the elevator. 

“Yeah, shut up, Jiyong.” Seunghyun winked, rushing to catch up to you. “You got a minute?”  You nodded your head.

Seunghyun took your hand, laced your fingers together and led you down the hall. Popping his head into the first doorway he came across to check if it was empty and let you inside, shutting the door behind you. You turned to face him, startled by how close he was still standing next to you. You figured his confession had just been the elevator talking. 

“I meant what I said in there. I think I’ve had feelings for you for quite some time now.” He hesitated for a second before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles across your skin. 

Your heart rate picked back up at the closeness of him and you wondered if he’d always have this affect on you. You didn’t mind it though, and you leaned into his touch. This was much softer than the rush of emotions that had overcome you on the elevator. Almost as if all the confidence you’d both had early was gone. 

“I meant it too.” 

Seunghyun let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Hearing that you felt the same way about him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before resting his forehead against yours. 

“Let me take you out later? We can make this official, figure out how and when we want to tell the guys? For now, we play it cool and get you to that appointment.” 

You nodded and he let you go, following you out of the room. He had the rest of the night to show you just how much you meant to him.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

[mahalachives]

Part 1: Oops, I Tripped Into Prythian

Summary: In which a fan gets yeeted into the world of fae

Genre: humor, drabble, minor az x reader (bcus why not)

You were just minding your business, lying in bed, rereading A Court of Thorns and Roses for the fiftieth time, when the universe decided to absolutely wreck your life.

One second, you were flipping a page; the next, you were free-falling through what could only be described as the worst interdimensional portal ever. No warning, no flash of light—just a violent, gut-churning yeet straight into the land of hot Fae males.

You crash-land face-first onto something soft, groaning as your limbs flail like a traumatized starfish. Someone clears their throat.

“Why,” a silky male voice muses, “is there a human in my lap?”

Your eyes fly open. Rhysand. High Lord of the Night Court. Captain of Sarcasm. Maker of poor life choices. And you? You were sprawled across him like some overenthusiastic fangirl who finally got her wish—but at what cost?!

“Oh gods,” you whisper, scrambling off, only to face-plant into the grass. “It’s happening. I’m in Prythian.”

Rhysand raises a brow, looking equal parts amused and suspicious. “You know where you are?”

You sit up, brushing dirt from your face. “Yes, obviously. Unless I have a really specific fever dream going on right now.”

Before Rhys can respond, Mor appears, grinning like she just found the juiciest gossip. “Well, this is new. A human dropping out of nowhere?”

Cassian strolls up, arms crossed. “Did you summon her, Rhys?”

“I did not summon a clumsy human who smells like anxiety and… is that cheese dust?” Rhys sniffs disdainfully.

You blink. “I was eating Cheetos before I got transported. Excuse me for having snacks.”

Nesta appears. “What’s a Cheeto?”

Feyre, looking far too composed for the insanity at hand, sighs. “More importantly, who is she?”

You inhale, sit up straighter, and declare with absolute confidence: “I am just a humble reader who was yeeted here against my will. But—” You raise a dramatic finger, “—I refuse to waste this opportunity.”

Cassian smirks. “Opportunity?”

You whip around, eyes locking onto him. The shadowsinger, lurking in the background like a hot, brooding cryptid. Azriel. The Book Boyfriend.

Your voice drops to a sultry whisper. “Azriel.”

His shadows twitch. His brows raise just slightly. He looks at you as if you are both an anomaly and a problem. Which is fair, because you are.

“Oh no,” Rhys mutters, face-palming. “Not another one.”

You scramble to your feet, dusting off your pajama pants. “Listen. I don’t know how long I have before the universe decides to yeet me back to reality, but I am shooting my shot.”

You turn fully to Azriel, who is now staring at you with the intensity of a thousand unread texts. “Azriel, my dark and broody king, my nightmare of the night—”

Cassian snorts.

“I would like to formally volunteer as your emotional support human.”

Azriel blinks. Once. Twice. And then—he walks away. Just… turns and leaves.

You spin on Rhys. “DO SOMETHING.”

Rhys, grinning, shrugs. “If he didn’t kill you immediately, I’d say that’s progress.”

You fist-pump. “Yes.”

Nesta mutters, “I want to hate this, but I don’t.”

Feyre, ever the diplomat, sighs. “Let’s get you inside before you fall into another male’s lap.”

Mor loops an arm through yours. “I like you. This is going to be fun.”

Cassian winks. “For us.”

And just like that, you, a simple ACOTAR reader, are now a walking disaster in Prythian.

…And maybe, just maybe, Azriel’s shadows linger a little longer than usual as he watches you.

Because what fresh chaos is this?

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You’d been in Prythian for approximately four hours, and already, you had:

Fallen from the sky like a cursed shooting star.

Launched yourself into Rhysand’s lap (an experience that would haunt you forever).

Profess your undying love for Azriel, only for him to stare at you like you were a particularly difficult puzzle—and then walk away (rude).

Been force-fed fae food by Mor, who was far too excited to introduce you to “actual, non-poisonous, non-human garbage food.”

Currently, you were in the House of Wind, which was all well and good except for one small problem:

“No elevators?” you whisper, staring at the 10,000 steps leading up to it. “No escalators? Not even a rope lift?”

Nesta, standing beside you with her arms crossed, smirks. “You think we just float up there?”

You give her a very serious nod. “That is exactly what I expected. I mean, Rhysand has wings, Azriel has wings, Cassian has wings. Feyre could have wings. This entire operation seems wildly ableist.”

Cassian cackles from behind you. “She’s got a point.”

Nesta squints at him, then turns back to you. “If you want to get up there, you have two choices: One—train until you can make the climb without dying. Or two—bribe one of the bat boys to fly you up.”

Your head whips toward Azriel, who is conveniently leaning against the wall, arms crossed, exuding maximum broody energy.

You smile. “Azriel.”

His shadows curl around his shoulders, as if sensing danger.

“Would you like to give me a ride?” you ask, voice absolutely dripping with suggestion.

Cassian chokes on air. Mor drops her goblet. Feyre buries her face in her hands.

Azriel, who has likely survived countless wars and assassinations, looks like he wants to die on the spot. His shadows frantically swirl around him, whispering all kinds of warnings, probably screaming abort mission, abort mission.

But to your absolute delight, he simply stares at you for a long, painful moment, then says, “…No.”

Cassian howls with laughter. “I take it back. I love her. She’s staying.”

You huff. “Fine. I’ll get another ride.”

Mor, still laughing, grabs your hand. “Come on, I’ll winnow you up before you give Az a heart attack.”

You shoot Azriel one last dramatic look. “You could have had all of this,” you say, gesturing to yourself. “But you played yourself.”

Azriel blinks slowly.

He looks… confused. Intrigued. Maybe even a little impressed.

The moment Mor winnows you away, you just know his shadows will be whispering about you for weeks.

Later that night, in the House of Wind…

You are lounging in the giant fae living room, eating whatever snacks Mor gave you, when you hear Cassian scream.

You shoot up. “What the—”

A second later, something huge crashes through the door.

It’s Azriel.

Holding a chicken.

Correction: a very angry, flapping, unhinged-looking chicken.

Cassian is on the floor, laughing so hard he’s wheezing.

Rhys is leaning against the wall, covering his mouth with a hand, his shoulders shaking.

Nesta is watching in judgmental silence.

Feyre looks between everyone. “What… exactly… is happening?”

Azriel glares at Cassian, who is too busy dying to explain.

You blink at the chaos, then point at Az. “Why… are you holding a chicken?”

Azriel exhales sharply. “Because Cassian thought it would be funny to sneak a mortal farm animal into my room.”

Cassian cackles from the floor. “You should have seen his face. Pure terror. The great and mighty Shadowsinger, scared of a little chicken.”

Azriel glares at him, but his grip on the chicken tightens as it attempts a murderous escape.

You stand, crossing your arms. “Azriel.”

His hazel eyes meet yours.

“I have a very important question.”

He sighs. “What?”

You smirk. “Would you say that this is fowl play?”

There is silence.

Rhysand snorts.

Feyre groans.

Nesta covers her face.

Cassian completely loses his mind, laughing so hard he starts crying.

Azriel, for a brief second, looks like he might actually be fighting a smile.

And you?

You decide right then and there that you are never leaving Prythian.

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Azriel, still holding the feral chicken, looks one deep breath away from assassinating Cassian. His shadows curl around his shoulders, clearly debating if this situation is beneath their skill set. The chicken, meanwhile, pecks his leather vambrace with zero fear.

“I swear,” Azriel mutters, “if you don’t take this thing back, I will personally deliver it to Eris.”

Cassian, sprawled across the floor, wheezing, waves a hand. “Take the chicken. See if I care. Maybe Beron will make it his heir.”

The chicken squawks in defiance.

You—being the kind, merciful, and deeply chaotic human that you are—decide it is your duty to name this creature.

You step forward, tilting your head. “Azriel.”

His eyes flick to yours, cautious.

“His name is Cluckriel now.”

Cassian completely loses his mind. He rolls onto his side, pounding the floor, gasping, “Cluckriel—”

Rhysand is now facing the wall, shaking.

Feyre bites her lip. Nesta is openly smirking.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathes through his suffering. Then, he turns—completely ignoring you—and walks away with the chicken still in his arms.

You call after him, “Are you keeping him?! Is this your emotional support chicken now?!”

Azriel does not answer.

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You were beginning to accept that Prythian was your new home, and frankly, you were thriving. Between terrorizing the Inner Circle and dramatically flirting with Azriel (to which he mostly responded by walking away or sighing heavily), you were settling in just fine.

Which was precisely why it made perfect sense that Rhysand decided it was time for you to meet the other High Lords.

“Be on your best behavior,” Feyre warns as you stand before the shimmering portal leading to the neutral meeting grounds.

You give her an exaggerated salute. “Absolutely. I will represent the Night Court with grace and dignity.”

Cassian leans in. “She’s lying.”

Nesta sighs. “She’s lying.”

Mor grins. “I kind of hope she isn’t.”

You dramatically adjust your borrowed Night Court cloak, striking a heroic pose. “Fear not! I shall charm them all.”

Rhys rubs his temples. “Let’s get this over with.”

The moment you step into the meeting, you realize two things:

You are underdressed. The High Lords are all adorned in their regal finery, and you are wearing what can only be described as Night Court athleisure.

Tamlin is here. And he looks like he just smelled something foul. (Probably your sheer audacity.)

Beron eyes you with the disdain of a man who thinks fun is punishable by death. “And what, exactly, is this?”

You beam at him. “Hi, I’m Y/N, and I’m here to ruin everyone’s day.”

Helion chokes on his wine. Kallias straightens in interest. Thesan tilts his head, studying you as if you are an interesting new species.

Eris mutters, “Oh, this will be fun.”

Tamlin crosses his arms. “Another human playing at being something they’re not.”

You gasp, clutching your chest. “Oh no, my deepest insecurities, exposed by such a keen intellect! However shall I recover?”

Rhysand makes a strangled noise. Azriel looks suspiciously like he’s trying not to smile. Cassian grins outright.

Helion leans forward, intrigued. “Tell me, Y/N. How did you come to be in Prythian?”

You consider your answer carefully. “I fell through a wormhole. Or perhaps the universe just decided I deserved to be here. Either way, I am thriving.”

Kallias, cool and composed, nods. “And what is it you do?”

You shoot Azriel a slow grin. “Oh, you know. Make things awkward. Bring joy to those who don’t want it. Offer emotional support to broody males.”

Azriel exhales through his nose. Cassian is beside himself.

Beron sneers. “And why should we tolerate this nonsense?”

You tilt your head, giving him a sharp, knowing smile. “Because it amuses you, Beron. And gods forbid you ever admit that you need a little amusement in your miserable existence.”

For the first time in history, Beron has no retort. He just squints at you like he is debating whether to set you on fire or adopt you.

Rhysand claps his hands together. “Well, I do believe that concludes introductions. Shall we proceed to the actual discussions, or should we just let Y/N continue to terrorize everyone?”

Helion raises a hand. “I vote for terror.”

Eris raises his goblet. “Same.”

Tamlin storms out.

Azriel sighs. “I hate this.”

You grin. “No, you don’t.”

And for a moment—just the briefest of moments—his shadows curl around his shoulders in silent, reluctant agreement.

[theyikesfiles]

Personally, I find that this kind of article never reaches the target audience? This is no criticism of the article tone and it's intentions, more of an observation - and something I often lose my sleep trying to figure out is how exactly to reach this target audience.

I was obviously very into Harry Potter, engaged with the fandom, read fanfiction, did fanart, the whole thing - and like a significant portion of the fans, felt betrayed and outraged by JKR's blatant hateful endorsement of bigotry. There is a large fandom community committed to boycotting products and media of the franchise, encouraging piracy, and engaging with the work critically. To quote Sérgio Vaz, the reader is sacred, not the writer. I sense a movement of fans claiming the relationship they built with the story as their own, reframing its cultural impact. But like every internet community, it is also a bubble of sorts.

To the point that it made me wonder - who's still buying all of this Warner Bros Harry Potter tat? Who's even going to the cinema to see Fantastic Beasts? Surely everyone here knows better?

How do you get a relatively offline and politically uninterested millennial to not buy a Dobby plushie for their kid? Are they reading small political blogs? How do you get a 64-year-old uninformed father who watched his kid go through their formative years with Harry Potter, drove them to book launches and movie premieres as a teen, not to buy them a Hufflepuff mug for xmas? I know for sure, from meeting people like this in real life, that the arguments in this blog post would never reach them. "A lot of people see their spending power as being totally divorced from the world at large. Every day, we’re plagued by difficult decisions about where our money should go and how we square our ethics with the crushing reality of a cost-of-living crisis. (...) But often, it feels like some smarmy losers use the very true ethos of ‘there is no ethical consumption under capitalism’ as a cheap excuse to satisfy their vainest urges. It’s evident in every influencer who does a Shein haul and then claims it’s a way to appeal to lower-income followers (it’s not. It never is.)"

This is well said and the more insidious part of the problem - and tackling this could mean a complete overhaul of people's values in a western capitalist society. The road is long and the work is hard, but I often find that some will opt to shame Harry Potter fans simply because it's easier. Infantilising arguments like "you're not getting a hogwarts letter" and the ever so repetitive "read another book", as far as I observed, tend to breed resentment and defensiveness - and HP fans already have a pretty cosy community to turn back to and lick their wounds when they feel attacked.

I'm not saying this as a "they should be nicer to wittle Harry Potter fans and protect their feelings!". To some extent, outrage, and shame can be useful tools to shake some people out of their comfort zones. But is it working, in this case? Is it generalising the audience and failing to communicate to specific groups within this audience? Will a Chinese teen who loves British pop culture, a boomer father from the American midwest, a middle-class millennial mom from Staffordshire, and an Irish author of smut fanfiction in their late 20s have the same takeaway from blog posts like this? The answer is "obviously not", so what do we do?

However, to the people who do know better and still choose to invest their money in HP merch and media, I can offer my sincere disappointment and bafflement.

This got a bit long as a response, but these are genuine non-rhetorical questions.

I haven't purchased a HP item in close to a decade - I use the books I already had as doorstops or to prop a laptop up for meetings nowadays.

There is NO "death of the author" with JK Rowling - she controls and continues to profit from her IP, and uses that money to fund hate groups.

[octaneink]

Could you do some dating willne headcannons or some willne smut but like in an established relationship? I’m obsessed with your fics, I swear I’ve read them so much I could recite them from memory 😭😭

Ahhh thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really happy that you like what I've written. I've never done headcannons or write smut lol so bear with me. I don't really know how to write smut ngl so I hope you like the spice (I think thats spicy? I don't know) at the end, I've never really written anything lke that before so I hope its...realistic?

Warning for some steamy stuff at the end!

Dating Will Lenney Headcanons

Playful Banter

In your relationship with Will, playful banter is the base of your dynamic, and he uses it to keep things light, fun, and endlessly entertaining. Whether you’re curled up on the couch, out for a walk, or in the middle of a mundane task, Will’s teasing is a constant—a reminder of how much he adores you.

He’s the kind of person who can’t resist poking fun at your quirks, but it’s always done with so much affection that it never feels mean-spirited. For example, if you’re watching one of your favourite romantic series for the hundredth time, he’ll lean over with a smirk and say, “Oh, this again? Let me guess—they’ll hate each other, then fall in love, and you’ll cry even though you know exactly how it ends.” But then he’ll stay right there beside you, secretly enjoying how much you love it—and secretly enjoying the series himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but he’s grown fond of the predictable charm of your go-to media.

Will’s teasing isn’t just one-sided, though. I think he’d love it if you gave as good as you get. If you catch him singing off-key in the shower, you’ll absolutely call him out on it. “Wow, I didn’t know cats could sing opera,” or something, and he’ll laugh so hard he almost slips. Or if he’s trying to fix something around the house, and it goes wrong, you’ll be there with a camera and a sarcastic comment like, “Handyman of the year, everyone.” He’ll pretend to be offended, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

The best part is how his teasing always comes with an undercurrent of love. He’ll joke about your “weirdly specific and unnecessarily complex” coffee order, but he’ll still remember it perfectly and surprise you with it on a rough day. And if anyone else dares to tease you, he’s quick to jump to your defence, proving that his playful jabs are reserved for him alone.

Your banter becomes a language of its own—a way to say “I love you” without actually saying it. It’s in the way he grins when you roll your eyes at his jokes, the way he nudges you gently when you’re being stubborn. The way he always knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on your worst days. With Will, every day feels like a game, and you’re both winning.

Supportive Partner

In your relationship with Will, his unwavering support is one of the things you cherish most. He’s not just your partner—he’s your biggest cheerleader, your hype man, and your safe haven all rolled into one. No matter what you’re going through, whether it’s chasing a dream, tackling a new challenge, or just having a rough day, Will is always there to lift you up and remind you of your worth.

When you decide to try something new—whether it’s skating, learning an instrument, or even something as simple as baking a complicated recipe—Will will be the first to encourage you. He’ll sit with you while you practice, offering gentle advice when you ask for it and cheering you on even when you feel like giving up. “You’re a natural,” he’ll say, even if your first attempt at playing the guitar sounds more like a cat in distress. “Seriously, I’ve never heard anyone make that chord sound so… unique.” His teasing is always light-hearted, but it’s paired with genuine admiration for your willingness to try. And when you finally nail it? He’s beaming with pride, as if you’ve just won a Grammy. “Told you! I knew you could do it. Now play it again—I need this on video for when you’re famous.”

On tough days, Will’s support is a quiet, steady force. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you’re feeling down, even if you try to hide it. Without a word, he’ll wrap you in a hug, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “Talk to me.” And when you do, he listens—actually listens. He doesn’t try to fix everything (unless you ask him to), but he’ll remind you of your strength and resilience. “You’ve got this,” he’ll say, his voice firm but gentle. “And even if you don’t feel like you do, I’ve got you. Always.”

Will’s encouragement isn’t just reserved for big moments, either. He celebrates the small victories with just as much enthusiasm. Did you survive a particularly gruelling day at work? He’ll show up with your favourite takeout and a movie, ready to pamper you. “You’re a rock star, and rock stars deserve the VIP treatment.”

But what makes Will’s support so special is how deeply personal it is. He pays attention to the little things—your favourite comfort foods, the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He knows when you need a pep talk, when you need a distraction, and when you just need someone to sit with you in silence. And he’s always there, without fail.

His belief in you is unshakeable. Even when you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t. “You’re brilliant, you’re kind, and you’re capable of anything you set your mind to,” he’ll say, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me.”

With Will by your side, you feel invincible. His support isn’t just words—it’s in the way he shows up for you, day after day, in big ways and small. He’s your partner, your teammate, and your biggest fan. And no matter what life throws your way, you know you’ll always have him in your corner, cheering you on every step of the way.

Car Rides

Car rides with Will are an experience in themselves. He’s always the one behind the wheel, and you’re perfectly content being his passenger princess. With you who's in control of the music, and you take full advantage of it. Whether you’re in the mood for girly pop, rock and roll, Afrobeats, jungle, reggae, or even a random playlist of your favourite guilty pleasures, Will never complains. He embraces it, turning every drive into a mini concert filled with laughter and the occasional side-eye from strangers at traffic lights.

You love how he lets you take charge of the aux, trusting your musical instincts even when your choices are… questionable. One day, you might blast upbeat pop anthems, singing at the top of your lungs as he chuckles beside you. “Okay, but why do I lowkey know all the words to this?” he’ll say, pretending to be embarrassed before joining in on the chorus. Another day, you might switch it up with some smooth reggae or high-energy Afrobeats, and he’ll bob his head along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. “You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that,” he’ll tease, even if he’s secretly adding some of your songs to his own playlist.

The best moments are when you both get so into the music that you forget the world around you. You’ll be belting out a duet to some cheesy love song, completely off-key but having the time of your lives, when you catch people in the next car staring at you. Will, never one to back down from a bit of fun, will roll down the window and shout, “What? Never seen a Grammy-winning performance before?” before bursting into laughter and speeding off when the light turns green.

Long drives are your favourite. Whether it’s a road trip to somewhere new or just a leisurely cruise around town, the car becomes your little bubble of happiness. You’ll pack snacks, throw a blanket in the backseat just in case, and let the music set the mood. Will’s driving is smooth and confident, and you love how he occasionally reaches over to hold your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he focuses on the road. “You good over there, princess?” he’ll ask, glancing at you with a smile. And you’ll nod, feeling completely at ease because, with him, even the simplest moments feel special.

Sometimes, the drives are quiet, the music playing softly in the background as you both enjoy the comfortable silence. Other times, they’re filled with lively conversations, random debates, or Will’s hilarious commentary on whatever’s happening outside. “Did that guy just try to parallel park in one go? Bold move,” he’ll say, shaking his head in mock disbelief. Or, “That billboard says ‘World’s Best Coffee.’ Challenge accepted.” And just like that, you’re pulling into a random café to test their claim, laughing the entire time.

But no matter where you’re going or what you’re listening to, the car rides always feel like yours. It’s your space to be silly, to be serious, to be yourselves. And Will wouldn’t have it any other way.

Protective Side

Beneath Will’s laid-back, easygoing exterior I see lies a fiercely protective streak, especially when it comes to you. While he’s usually the type to brush things off with a joke or a sarcastic remark, the moment someone disrespects you or crosses a line, his playful demeanour is gone.

Will’s protectiveness isn’t the loud, over-the-top kind. It’s subtle but firm. He’s the type to notice things others might miss—a snide comment, a dismissive tone, or even a lingering look that makes you uncomfortable. And while he might not always call it out immediately (he prefers to gauge how you feel about it first), he’s always ready to step in at the moment you need him.

Like if someone makes a backhanded comment about you in a social setting, Will’s response is sharp but calculated. He’ll tilt his head, feigning confusion, and say something like, “Oh, I’m sorry—did you mean to say that out loud? Because it sounded like utter bullshit.” His tone is light, almost playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes it clear he’s not joking. And if the person tries to laugh it off or double down, he’ll hit them with a perfectly timed quip that leaves them speechless.

But it’s not just about witty comebacks. If someone genuinely hurts you—whether it’s a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger—he’s quick to reassure you that their behaviour says more about them than it does about you. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are doesn’t deserve a second of your time,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm.

What makes Will’s protectiveness so endearing is how he balances it with respect for your independence. He never tries to fight your battles for you unless you ask him to. Instead, he understands that you can stand up for yourself and is often there offering quiet support and encouragement. “You don’t need me to defend you,” he’ll say with a grin. “You’re perfectly capable of putting people in their place. But just in case, I’ll be right here, ready to back you up.” (definitely would hold your earrings and purse if you were to scrap with someone)

And when it comes to physical safety, Will’s protective instincts kick into overdrive. If you’re walking home late at night, he’ll insist on accompanying you, even if it’s out of his way. If you’re feeling uneasy in a crowded place, he’ll subtly position himself between you and whatever—or whoever—is making you uncomfortable. And if anyone dares to threaten you, his calm, sarcastic facade drops entirely. He becomes a force to be reckoned with, his voice low and steady as he says, “You have one more chance to apologise and walk away before this gets ugly.”

With him by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and fiercely defended. And while you might not always need his protection, it’s comforting to know that, no matter what, Will will always have your back.

Surprise Dates

Between his busy schedule and the demands of everyday life, you make it a point to plan dates that are thoughtful, fun, and meaningful. You’ve made it a tradition to try something new at least once a month, while the other dates revolve around activities you both love. Whether it’s a spontaneous road trip, a nostalgic arcade night, or a fancy dinner at a place he’s been wanting to try, you always find ways to make him feel special—and he absolutely adores it.

You know how much Will appreciates surprises, so you’ve become a master at planning ahead. You keep a mental (or physical) list of things he mentions in passing—like a new restaurant he wants to check out, a movie he’s excited to see, or a place he’s always wanted to visit. Then, when the time is right, you spring the surprise on him. His face lights up every time, and the way he grins when he realises what you’ve planned is worth every bit of effort.

Another month, you might plan a random road trip to a nearby town neither of you has explored. You’ll pack a picnic, create a playlist of his favourite songs, and let him take the wheel. The excitement in his eyes when he realises where you’re headed is priceless. “You’re seriously the best,” he’ll say, squeezing your hand as he starts the car. Along the way, he’ll take detours to roadside attractions, insisting on stopping for silly photo ops and spontaneous adventures. “Look at this place!” he’ll exclaim, pulling over at a giant dinosaur statue or a retro diner. “We have to take a picture. This is peak road trip material.” And of course, you’ll oblige, laughing as he strikes ridiculous poses and insists on making the memories as over-the-top as possible (though he takes cute couple pictures as well).

And then there are the fancy dates—the ones where you pull out all the stops. You’ll book a table at that upscale restaurant he’s been talking about for weeks, or you’ll surprise him with tickets to a show or event he’s been dying to see. On those nights, you love seeing him dressed up, his usual casual vibe swapped for something more polished. “Look at you, all fancy,” you’ll tease, and he’ll shoot back with a smirk, “What can I say? I clean up nice. But not as nice as you.”

What makes these dates so special is how much thought you put into them. You know how busy Will’s schedule can be, so you always plan ahead to make sure the timing works. You’ll coordinate with his friends or coworkers if needed, and you’re not above bribing them with coffee or baked goods to keep the surprise under wraps. And when the day finally arrives, you love seeing the look on his face. “You planned all this for me?” he’ll ask, his voice soft with disbelief. “Of course I did,” you’ll reply, smiling. “You deserve it.”

But it’s not just about the big surprises. You also make time for the little things—like cosy movie nights at home, complete with his favourite snacks and a blanket fort, or lazy Sunday mornings where you cook breakfast together and spend hours talking and laughing. Those moments are just as important, and they remind you both why you fell in love in the first place.

With every date, whether big or small, you show Will how much he means to you. And in return, he makes sure you know how much he appreciates it. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he’ll say, pulling you close after a particularly memorable outing. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go.” And as you smile up at him, you know that these moments—these carefully planned, perfectly executed surprises—are what make your relationship so special.

Social Media PDA

I think Will is the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and that extends to his social media presence. While he respects your desire to keep a low profile due to your job, he’s not shy about showing the world how much he adores you. His Instagram is a mix of his work, his hobbies, and, of course, glimpses of your relationship. He’s the type to post pictures of the two of you without a second thought, whether it’s a candid shot of you laughing at something he said or a cosy selfie from a date night. Or a goofy photo of you both making faces at the camera.

His captions are always playful and affectionate. “Caught this one mid-laugh. Guess I’m funnier than I thought” or “Date night with my favourite person. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”. The comments are always flooded with fans gushing over how cute you two are together, and Will loves reading them, often showing you the funniest or sweetest ones with a proud grin. “Look, they’re saying we’re goals. Can’t argue with that.”

But it’s not just the photos. You occasionally pop up in the background of his videos, whether it’s a behind-the-scenes clip from one of his projects or a casual vlog. Sometimes it’s just your hand in the frame as you pass him a coffee, or your voice chiming in with a sarcastic comment that makes him burst out laughing. Fans have come to love these little moments, dubbing them “crumbs” and saying that they’re being “fed” whenever you make an appearance. “We see you back there!” they’ll comment, or “The way he looks at her when she talks… I can’t. 😭”

Will finds the whole thing hilarious and endearing. He loves how much his fans adore you, even though you’re not in the spotlight yourself. “They’re obsessed with you,” he’ll say, scrolling through the comments. “Can’t blame them, though. I’m obsessed with you too.” And while you prefer to stay out of the public eye, you can’t help but smile at the way he proudly includes you in his world, even if it’s just in small, subtle ways.

There are times when he’ll sneak in a little more PDA than usual, just to mess with you. Like the time he posted a video of the two of you cooking together, and he casually dropped a kiss on your forehead mid-sentence. The internet went wild, and you playfully scolded him for it later. “You’re such a show-off,” you said, and he just shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like showing the world how lucky I am.”

Despite his public displays of affection, Will is careful to respect your boundaries. He never shares anything too personal or invasive, and he always checks with you before posting something that features you prominently. “You good with this?” he’ll ask, showing you a photo or video before hitting post. And if you ever say no, he doesn’t hesitate to scrap it, no questions asked. “Your comfort comes first,” he’ll say, and it’s one of the many reasons you love him.

For Will, it’s simple: he’s proud of you, proud of your relationship, and he wants the world to know it. And even though you prefer to stay behind the scenes, you can’t help but feel a little flutter of happiness every time you see one of his posts and realise, all over again, just how much he loves you.

Spicy Headcanons

Rough or soft?

Will is the kind of partner who knows exactly what you need, even before you do. Whether it’s a night of tender affection or one where he pushes you to the edge, he always makes sure you feel safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by him.

Soft Moments

When the mood calls for softness, Will is all about making you feel adored. He’ll take his time, his touches gentle and deliberate, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His kisses are slow and sweet, starting at your lips and trailing down your neck, your collarbone, and everywhere else he knows you love to be touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your skin, his voice a low, soothing rumble that makes your heart swell. “I could spend forever like this, just you and me.” His hands will roam your body with reverence, tracing patterns that leave you shivering. He’ll whisper praise in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves the way you respond to him, and how lucky he feels to have you in his arms.

These are the moments where he’s all about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your happiness. He’ll hold you close afterward, his fingers brushing through your hair as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. “You’re my everything,” he’ll say, and you’ll believe him, because in those moments, nothing else exists but the two of you.

Rough Moments

But then there are the nights when Will’s more dominant side takes over. It’s not about anger or frustration—it’s about trust, about pushing boundaries, and exploring the raw connection between you. On these nights, he’s in complete control, and he knows exactly how to make you unravel.

He’ll start slow, his touch firm but teasing, building you up until you’re trembling with need. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he’ll pull back, his grip tightening in your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He’ll edge you relentlessly, his hands and mouth working you to the brink over and over again until you’re a writhing, desperate mess. Tears might prick at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you beg him for release. But he won’t give in—not until he’s sure you’ve reached your limit. “You can take it,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts challenge and reassurance. “I know you can.” Of course, you can; you haven’t said the safe word yet.

Foreplay

Will is the kind of man who takes his time, savouring every moment of intimacy with you. He’s not just interested in the end goal—he’s obsessed with the journey, with the way he can make you unravel under his touch. For Will, foreplay is an art form, and you are his masterpiece. He loves watching you moan, squirm, and barely hold onto yourself, knowing he’s the one driving you to the edge.

It starts with his hands, always so deliberate and sure. He’ll trace patterns along your skin, his fingertips leaving trails of fire in their wake. He loves the way you shiver under his touch, the way your breath hitches when he finds that one spot that makes you gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” he’ll murmur, the tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. “I love how you react to me.”

His mouth. Damn his mouth. He’ll press kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your stomach—everywhere but where you want him most, just to tease you. “Will,” you’ll whine, your hands tangling in his hair, and he’ll chuckle against your skin, the vibration making you squirm. “Patience, love,” he’ll say, his lips curving into a smirk. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he finally does give you what you want, it’s with a slow, deliberate intensity that leaves you breathless. He’ll watch you as he works, his eyes dark with desire, drinking in every moan, every whimper, every desperate plea for more. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll say, his voice rough with need. “I could watch you fall apart all day.”

But Will isn’t just about physical touch—he’s a master of words, too. He’ll whisper filthily sweet nothings in your ear, his voice a mix of praise and promise. “You take me so well,” he’ll say, his breath hot against your skin. “I love how you sound, how you feel, how you’re all mine.” His words are like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and they only make you want him more.

By the time he’s done with you, you’re a trembling, incoherent mess, barely able to form a sentence. But Will isn’t satisfied until he’s sure you’re completely undone. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his hands and mouth working in tandem to push you even further. “I want to hear you beg.”

I hope people don't mind that I only wrote two spicy scenes. Sorry, I kinda ran out of ideas lol. Anyways… how did people like the headcannons? These are headcannons right?

[ssentimentals]

Hiii!! It is been a long time since i got here 🤧, I hope you are doing good. I saw the new request prompts and the number 47. Sickfic/caretaking has attracted my attention, so I was going to ask you if you could write a woozi x reader who has bad migraines and maybe it is mixed this time with back pain.

You can change it if it is too specific or do not do it if you don't feel like it!!

hiii angel, you should come here more often 💜 i am good, hope you're well too! i definitely can, thank you for requesting!

prompt: sickfic/caretaking

woozi could see it. you tried your best to hide it and he gotta give it to you - it took him few days to catch up. he hates how you go all out to help and support others, but don't let others do the same for you, always ignoring your problems because they are not 'big enough'. he knows that probability of you admitting you're in pain is as low as snow during summer, but he still tries: 'how are you feeling, babe?'

you look up from your laptop, your face illluminated by blue screen. you were grimacing few seconds earlier but now you're trying to smile at him: 'all good, just a bit tired.'

your lie falls flat. woozi is always careful, always tries not to voerstep and make you start lecturing him on whole 'i am independent and strong woman, i can take care of myself' thing but his patience snaps. without saying anything he comes closer and points at your laptop: 'save your work. save your work and close your laptop.'

you blink at him. 'what-'

'do it yourself before i take that laptop away and just turn it off without saving shit,' he bites, not caring that his tone is off. 'you work can wait, we need to stop your migraine first.' at this your eyes widen and woozi quirks an eyebrow at you: 'you hid those pills well, baby, but not well enough.'

you have nothing to say. those migraines started few days ago and yesterday they got so bad that your eyes dtarted watering against your will. add back pain on top of that and you turned into a one big exposed nerve and you knew that your boyfriend saw right through you and your attempts to hide it. lie that you're fine is on your tongue but you swallow it, following woozi to the bedroom. you don't like admitting but it feels nice to be taken care of, to have someone else fret over you. woozi is not very expressive, but you can feel all of his feelings even when he doesn't say much. right now you know that he's worried and annoyed at your for not saying anything, for example.

'we can try cold and hot packs on your neck, which one do you prefer?' he asks in a business tone. when you get under the covers, his hands instantly smooth the blanket and he fluffs the other pillow, making sure you're comfortable. 'i'll turn off the light, do you want lavender oil? i'm not giving you another pill, i'm sure you've taken plenty already.'

'cold pack,' you answer, grimacing when back echoes in pain once you fully lie down. 'and no oil for now, i think.'

woozi nods and quickly gets to work. in few minutes you have cold pack pressed to your neck, light turned off and window open. he places cup with a herbal tea nearby and gingerly lies down. woozi is not used to seeing you like this - his usually strong girl never looks this fragile. it pains and angers him; he reaches out to take your hand in his. 'never hide this from me,' he asks quietly with a slight tremor in his voice. 'i don't want you to suffer alone. i'm always here to help you.'

'it's just a migraine,' you whisper and a sudden pain that shoots from your neck straight to your head makes you gasp. 'oh god.'

'nothing is 'just' when it comes to you,' he mutters and leans closer, worried. 'is cold pack not helping? if it's very bad-'

'give it time,' you interrupt. 'ten minutes or so. we can change it to hot pack if this one won't work.' you open your eyes, squinting at him. 'i am sorry for not telling you sooner. i thought it'd go away. didn't want to bother you.'

'you never bother me,' he instantly says, scowling. 'stop thinking that. nothing about you is ever a bother. let me take care of you.'

you sigh and close your eyes. a bit later you feel cold lips pressed on your forehead. woozi kisses your forehead, tip of your nose, both of your cheeks. you smile and lips press on yours in a light kiss. 'try to sleep,' woozi whispers. 'i will change packs. rest, baby.'

'i love you,' you whisper back without opening your eyes. cold pack helps with the tension, easing the pain. 'thank you.'

'i love you more, my strong girl.' woozi kisses your forehead once more. 'now rest. i'll be right here when you wake up.'

putting his phone on 'do not disturb' woozi lies down next to you and carefully wraps one arm around you. he'll be right here for you even if you can't ask that out loud. he'll still be here.

a/n: hopefully you liked it!! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

[vampiriito]

Pillow talk and the fifth amendment (r.c)

(JJ Maybank x pogue! reader x Rafe Cameron. Except this is another Rafe flashback lol. I honestly have no idea what these two are doing, or were doing. Please don't have public sex in a gym locker room. The reader is so me for folding so easily.) ..in which you found yourself torn between two worlds when your best friend, JJ Maybank, who you've been in love with since forever starts dating Kiara. In a jealousy haze you start hooking up with Rafe Cameron, the infamous kook prince. Do you manage to keep everything casual and under control? No, is it fun? Also kind of no, given you hate yourself each time you managed to orgasm. And especially since Rafe's favorite activity is to pick on you and your friends outside the bedroom..

Your head pounded violently as you paced through the massive gym on Figure Eight, eyes squinting against the harsh sunlight seeping through the big glass windows. When you woke up this morning you had barely any recollection of last night. All you could remember was Rafe. And that wasn't something you wanted to remember after a night out. You didn't really remember how you got home, or where you went after you ditched the party you went with the pogues. You woke up in your bed, still in last night's clothes, and Rafe's number scribbled on a small receipt from a bank downtown shoved in your shorts' pocket. Which was about as confusing as the marks that littered your body.

You came to a stop, earning a small dirty look from a kook for almost photo bombing her mirror selfie in over priced pink gym gear. You grumbled to yourself as you kept moving, adjusting your glasses, your steps growing more determined as you could spot Rafe's friends training in a corner of the gym by the window. You were confused, mad, and trying to fight the hang over so you didn't sound like a lobotomy pacient.

You came to a stop right behind Rafe, who was doing a pull up, his bare back facing you. His friends shot you curious and amused looks, and you couldn't really blame them, you probably looked like a mess. You cleared your throat, ignoring Topper's gaze on you, your eyes fixed on Rafe's back, admiring the muscles without wanting to. The fact that he actually looked good was pissing you off.

He was mid his set of pull ups, his muscles straining with the effort of lifting himself over and over again. He hadn't even realized you were there until he suddenly felt your presence behind him. He could sense your gaze on his back, and it only made him want to show off more. He knew you were probably pissed off, and he was half expecting you to chew him out, but he didn't care. As he continued with his set, he couldn't help but feel a little smug, enjoying the attention you were giving him.

Rafe was deep in his reps, sweat glistening on his skin, muscles flexing with each movement. You rolled your eyes as he kept showing off, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes darted to the small nail marks on his shoulder, your anger growing, "Do you mind?" you called out to him sternly.

He grunted, the exertion of doing another rep becoming more difficult as he felt your gaze on him, specifically on the little marks left on his shoulder. He finished one last rep, before dropping himself into a standing position. He turned to face you, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he cocked an eyebrow at you. "Do i mind what?"

You suppressed the urge to groan in annoyance at his nonchalance, adjusting your glasses. You wanted to slap the smirk off his face for not taking the conversation seriously, even though it barely even began. "You know what i mean, country-club." you practically spat out.

He chuckled dryly, taking a step closer to you, his eyes flicking over your disheveled state. You looked worse for wear, and it amused him seeing as he looked great for pounding you took last night.

"I don't actually.. So, why don't you go ahead and use your big girl words and tell me what you're talking about."

Him stepping closer and letting the distance shrink didn't do anything to make you nervous or intimidate you, despite the fact that he was shirtless in front of you. You made a show of checking him out mockingly, your expression a bit condescending, "You're sweaty, don't step any closer." you grimaced as you raised up one finger, gesturing around the two of you vaguely at his friends probably watching intently, judging by the chuckles. "Are they capable of leaving you alone two minutes so i can talk to your royal-highness?" you rolled your eyes.

He smirked at your attempted jab, but he could see through it. This whole tough act you were putting on? It was all to mask the fact that you were completely at his mercy. But he decided to humor you, and he took a step back giving you the distance you asked for. His friends snorted, but they stayed in their corner, continuing their workout.

"Go on then. Talk." He said, folding his arms over his chest. He was completely unbothered by your attitude, a slight hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Fine then. I'll ask nicely, myself." You smiled mockingly before turning to his friends with a cold gaze, "Can you scurry the fuck off for a few minutes?" you spat out at the group of older kook boys.

His friends, clearly not expecting your cold demeanor, exchanged a confused look but ultimately decided it was best to get some distance from the two of you. They muttered a "Whatever" and walked off, leaving you and Rafe alone in their little corner.

He raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by your audacity, but still trying to remain unaffected. "Nicely, I see." he mimicked your earlier mocking tone.

"Listen, Raphael..." you mumbled lowly, using his full first name on purpose, "I'm not here for your stupid games. What the hell happened last night?" you asked quietly, stepping closer with a heated gaze.

He frowned as you used his full first name, his jaw clenching slightly. He wasn't a fan of his full name, and you knew it, which was exactly what you were going for. "Last night?" he responded, acting as if he didn't know what you were talking about, even though his brain was replaying every moment he spent with you in his bedroom.

"Don't piss me off." You grumbled, shaking your head. You barely even remembered the party segment, let alone going to his house, and here he was standing in front of you shirtless and nonchalant like this was a normal conversation about the weather.

He rolled his eyes, a cocky smile playing at the corner of his lips. He could see you getting frustrated, and it was only amusing him even more. "What? You don't remember the fun we had last night?" he asked, taking another step closer to you, his gaze fixed on you intently.

He chuckled, his smirk widening as he continued to get closer, invading your personal space. His gaze dropped down your body, lingering on the marks he left on your neck the night before, before returning to your eyes.

"No, because i was plastered. You took advantage of a drunk 17 year old." you smiled mockingly, the smile not reaching your eyes.

He chuckled dryly, not at all bothered by your accusation. In fact, he found your attempt at guilt-tripping him almost laughable.

"Oh, come on. You were perfectly capable of making decisions last night. You willingly came home with me. I didn't force you to do anything." he retorted, a hint of irritation in his voice.

He took another step closer, now standing barely inches away from you. He could see the anger in your eyes, and it only fueled his desire for you. Despite your attitude, he found you incredibly attractive, and he couldn't help himself from continuing to push your buttons.

"You clearly had enough presence of mind to enjoy it..." he smirked, his gaze dropping down to the marks on your neck once more. He almost wanted to add more to them just to piss you off even more.

"Oh yeah, because i would actually enjoy sleeping with you if i was sober." You scoffed in his face, again not at all deterred by his proximity.

He raised an eyebrow, a cocky smirk playing at his lips. He could sense the defiance in your tone, and it just fueled his desire to tease you even more. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he spoke.

"Well, I guess we'll never know, will we?" he whispered, his hand reaching out to gently brush his fingers against the skin of your neck, right where the marks he left were placed.

"Maybe you wanna find out, then?" you asked as sweetly as you could, trying to plaster the most convincing and seductive smile on your lips.

He chuckled low in his throat, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He knew what you were doing, and he was all for it. "Oh, angel, I'd love nothing more than to find out." he responded, his hand dropping down to your hip, pulling you closer to him.

Your expression fell, deadpanning at him, "No, country-club. You actually fell for that?" you whispered, taking a step back and rolling your eyes.

He groaned in frustration, letting his hand fall from your hip as you stepped back. He was disappointed that you didn't fall for his advances, but he couldn't deny the way your defiance made his heart race a bit faster.

"Oh, come on. Can't blame a guy for trying." he said, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes back at you.

You snorted, genuinely amused at his frustration, "Don't tell me you're that desperate to sleep with a pogue again? What, the kook girls aren't exciting enough for you?"

He rolled his eyes again, his smirk turning into a scowl at your mockery. He hated that you were getting under his skin, but he couldn't deny that he found your attitude and insults kind of exciting.

"Oh, shut it." he grumbled, his tone a little harsher than before. "And for the record, I'm not desperate. I just like what I like, and you just happen to be my type."

You squeaked out a laugh, your voice high pitched and your hand clasped over your mouth. Your eyes were a bit widened behind your glasses, "Wait, you're serious?" you stopped mid laugh, gaping at him, a bit embarrassed at how flustered your voice sounded.

He paused for a moment, his expression shifting into something more genuine and vulnerable. He didn't expect your reaction, and it took him aback for a second. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling a bit exposed and embarrassed himself.

"Yeah, I'm serious." he admitted, his gaze fixing on you, his eyes searching your face for any hint of disbelief or sarcasm. He hated how he was actually confessing this to you, and he cursed himself inwardly for it.

You squeaked out another laugh without meaning, your anger and irritation melting away into surprise and shyness at his bluntness. "You-.. I'm sorry.." you snorted once again "You don't even know me, Rafe.."

He couldn't help but smile at your nervous stammer, his own irritation and anger fading away as he watched you laugh and fidget uncomfortably in front of him.

"Well, I'm trying to get to know you now." he retorted, his tone softer now as he took a step closer to you once again. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch surprisingly gentle

You shook your head in something that looked like awe before placing your hands on your knees, your shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. You didn't know why you continued to laugh, in retrospect it was a bit rude when he was being very nice about it. Especially since this was the asshole of the Cameron legacy. "I'm sorry.." cough "I just-.." another cough combined with a snort of laughter. "Did i use the knife on you?" you squeaked out when you straightened up, eyes wide and small tears pricking the corner of your eyes from laughter.

He let out a grumble low in his throat, his irritation creeping back in as you continued to laugh and snort at his expense. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the urge to snap at you for making fun of him.

"Yeah, you did. You little psychopath." he retorted, taking another step closer to you and towering over you. He was trying his best to sound angry, but he couldn't help the hint of amusement in his voice.

He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but again his expression was giving him away. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he realized that you weren't intimidated in the slightest by his proximity. In fact, your laugh only got louder the closer he got to you.

You continued to laugh nervously, placing your hands on his biceps to stop him from advancing. "God, i dunno why I'm laughing so much. I'm being rude.." you mumbled, voice shaky with amusement. Your eyes were fixed in his blue ones, apologizing for laughing as if you weren't angrily chewing him out less than ten minutes ago.

He let out a scoff, his smirk growing as he felt your hands on his biceps. He was amused by your nervous laughter and the way you were apologizing for it.

"Yeah, you are bein' a little rude." he responded, his voice low and husky. But despite his words, he didn't make a move to pull away, instead leaning in even closer to you.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of desire as his gaze drifted down to your lips. They were parted slightly, still trembling from your nervous laugh. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss you, to shut you up and make those nervous giggles turn into something else entirely. But he held back, his pride and stubbornness preventing him from giving in.

You breathed out shaking your head, your nervousness growing as he continued to stand there, not even two feet of space between the 2 of you, watching you intently, still shirtless, hair messy from working out and a small flush covering his cheeks, "Seriously you can't be that desperate, can you?"

He rolled his eyes again, his smirk fading as he scoffed at your words. He was amused and annoyed that you had the audacity to call him desperate.

"Desperate. Right. For a girl like you." he responded, taking another step closer to you, leaving barely any space between the 2 of you at this point. He could even feel your breath against his bare skin

"There it is! That's the Rafe i like." Your eyes widened in something akin to excitement, your hands squeezing his biceps almost in a proud manner when he insulted you. The nice side of him scared you a little.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at your words, a little taken aback by your sudden change in attitude. But he couldn't help but be amused by your enthusiasm, his own smirk returning.

"Yeah? You like that, do ya?" he retorted, his voice dropping down to a low purr. He stepped closer, his chest now almost touching yours.

Oh my god can he actually not get the message to stop advancing on you like that, you're just a girl after all. "Uh, no.. I just thought you got possessed for a second there." you muttered quietly.

He chuckled softly, amused by your response. He was close enough to feel your body heat now, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to resist the urge to touch you. He leaned closer, his lips hovering just a few inches from your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Possessed, huh? By what exactly? My desire to kiss you?"

Your breath hitched as he spoke, the nearness of your bodies making your heart race and your cheeks heat up. You could feel his hot breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. But you tried to remain impassive, fighting the urge to lean into his touch and give in to the growing attraction between you two. Because you were here to chew him out for sleeping with you, not let him kiss you. Or worse sleep with him again.

"Uh huh.. sure. Your... desire to kiss me." you muttered, your voice quivering slightly.

He could see through your attempt at remaining impassive. He could feel the way your body trembled slightly, and he knew that you were just as affected by the closeness as he was. The more he pushed, the more he couldn't help but be amused by how bad you were at hiding it.

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing gently against the sensitive skin of your neck. He could feel your pulse quicken under his touch, and he couldn't help but smirk at the effect he was having on you. "Mmhmm." he responded softly.

You involuntarily angled your head back a little, instantly regretting it. Your hands flexed against his biceps once again, breathing out shakily, "Right.." you mumbled.

He noticed your head tilting back, exposing more of your neck to him, and he couldn't resist the temptation of trailing soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

He could feel your hands moving on his biceps, and he couldn't help but be encouraged by it. He leaned in even closer, pressing his body against yours, his chest now flush against you.

"God, you're so sensitive." he whispered, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin behind your ear as he spoke.

Every touch, every movement from him was sending electricity through your body. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it would pop out of your chest. His lips on your neck, his body pressed against you.

You couldn't help but let out a soft, quiet moan your hands moving up from his biceps to his shoulders, gripping them in a futile attempt to steady yourself. You were still awfully aware that you were in the gym, but your knees felt like they were gonna give out at his quiet words.

Your moan was music to his ears, and it only encouraged him further. He loved the way you were reacting to his touch, the way your hands were gripping his shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

He continued to trail kisses down your neck and collarbone, his hands moving to grip your waist, holding you in place. He could feel your body trembling against him, and he knew you were just as affected by this as he was.

"I knew you could be more than just a brat." he muttered, his lips now brushing against your ear again.

"Ha, ha real funny, Raphael.." you grumbled, shoving him back just a little to catch your breath.

He chuckled softly at your response, amused by your attempt to regain your composure. But he didn’t let go of your waist, his grip only tightening as he leaned in close, his lips hovering mere millimeters from yours.

"Ooh, you're using my first name now? Feeling spicy, are we? And you were getting all sensitive just a second ago." he taunted, his voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, why don't we fuck in the middle of the gym?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting your glasses.

He raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, his lips curving into a cocky smirk. He couldn't help but feel aroused by the thought, but he also knew that it would be way too risky. He shook his head slightly, a devilish glint in his eye.

"Tempting." he murmured, his grip on your waist loosening slightly as he took a step back. "But I think we might get kicked out of here if we tried." he chuckled, still keeping his gaze on you.

You gaped at him, "I was sarcastic?" you scoffed, whisper-shouting at him.

He gave a mock gasp, his hand clutching at his heart in feigned surprise.

"You? Sarcastic? Never." he replied, his voice dripping with exaggerated surprise. He grinned at you, his eyes trailing over your features, taking in the way your lips were parted in shock.

"It's a good idea, though. You're full of those." he teased, his fingers tracing patterns over your hips.

You rolled your eyes again, crossing your arms over your chest, "I'm not one of the chicks you hook up with.." you scoffed.

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, a smirk playing on his lips. He took a step closer to you, his frame towering over you as he spoke.

"And why not?" he taunted. "You afraid you might like it too much?" he gave you a cocky grin, his fingers now tracing up your sides, lightly tickling you.

You jerked back, glaring at him when he tickled you, "Because I'm not gonna let you fuck me in the middle of the gym."

He held his hands up in mock surrender, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Hey, hey, relax. I was just teasing you." he replied, his hands coming to rest on your hips once again. He gave you a cheeky grin, his fingers gently stroking your skin through your shirt.

"No need to get all worked up." he smirked, his gaze roaming over your body as he inched a little closer. "Though I wouldn't be opposed to a private session in the locker room." he added, his voice dropping to a low purr.

You couldn't help but shiver slightly as his words. His gaze was intense and the way he was touching you was driving you wild. But you tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to give in to him so easily.

You placed your hands on his chest, pretending to push him away but actually just feeling the solid muscle beneath your fingers.

"In your dreams, Cameron." you retorted, trying to sound confident but your voice came out breathy and a little shaky.

He noticed the way your hands trembled slightly as they pressed against his chest, and a sly smirk formed on his lips. He could see the effort you were making to maintain your cool exterior, but he could also sense the want and desire within you.

He took a step closer, his body now pressing against yours as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"You can't deny that you'd enjoy it." he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Don't play hard to get."

"Sure because a sweaty locker room is just on the top of my list of 'places to have sex in with Raphael Cameron.'" you shook your head, still trying to hold onto your sarcasm.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly at your sarcastic remarks, finding them oddly endearing. He tightened his grip on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin just a little.

"Oh, so you've got a list?" he teased, his voice dropping to a low purr. "What other places do you have on there? The beach, the car, the-" he continued, leaning in close and whispering in your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

You couldn't help but shiver at his words and the feel of his breath against your earlobe. The whole situation was becoming increasingly difficult to handle. The way he held you, the way his arms wrapped around you, the way his lips brushed against your skin.

You could feel your body responding to him in ways you didn't want it to, and it was making you feel frustrated and confused. You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was firm.

"The locker room is my priority." you whispered weakly, the words meant to be sarcastic once again.

A sly grin twisted at the edges of his lips, and he pulled you even closer, his body against yours, his chest pressed against you.

"I like that." he murmured, his grip on your waist tightening as he spoke.

"Let's go then." he whispered, his lips pressing against the side of your neck before he began to lead you towards the locker room.

"Oh my god-.. Wait! i.. I was joking, Rafe.." you whisper shouted as he dragged you away to the locker room.

He smirked, enjoying the way you were trying to protest but there was no real resistance. His grip on you was firm, and he continued to lead you towards the locker room, his hand gently guiding you.

"I know you were." he replied, his voice a low grumble as he pushed the door open and led you inside.

The locker room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the flickering fluorescent bulbs above. The room smelled of sweat and cologne, and the sound of running water from the shower could be faintly heard in the background.

Rafe pushed you against the lockers, his body pressing against yours as he trapped you between his arms. He leaned in close, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

"You're not backing out now, are you?" he murmured, his voice low and suggestive.

"I am!" you continued to whisper shout at him, completely taken aback that he actually dragged you here in hopes to hook up with you, "There's someone here.. And there's no way I'm sleeping with you again."

He chuckled softly, his eyes roaming over your face as he took in your expression. He could sense your nervousness and hesitation but it only seemed to amuse him further.

"So what if there's someone here?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw, "They wont notice. And besides, didn't you say you were craving distractions?"

His fingertips trailed down your neck, the delicate touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin as he moved across your collarbone. His breath was still against your ear, his words a low, seductive whisper.

"You remember that?" you asked, raising your brows as you realized he actually remembered what you told him last night while being completely drunk.

He chuckled softly, his lips curving into a sly smile as he drew back slightly to look at you. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in every little reaction that flickered across it.

"Of course I do." he murmured, his fingers tracing along your collarbone. "I remember everything you say to me. Especially when it involves me." he added with a cocky grin, his hand suddenly grasping your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"But you don't know what I'm trying to distract myself from.." you trailed off quietly.

He paused at that, his expression shifting a little as he regarded you closely. The way you said it, the tone in which you dropped your voice... it was almost as if you were hinting at something, something important.

He let go of your chin, his hand now gently resting on your waist as he studied your face. There was a hint of concern in his gaze, and he tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing just a little.

"Enlighten me." he murmured, his voice dropping a tone lower.

"I'm in love with someone, and he has a girlfriend." you dropped to a more mischievous tone, hoping to mask the bitterness in your voice.

He stiffened slightly at your words, his expression hardening momentarily before his familiar cocky smirk returned to his face. He was silent for a few seconds, obviously taking in your words. Assessing in what situation he might willingly get tangled into.

When he spoke, his voice held a hint of mockery and irony.

"And let me guess, he's completely oblivious." he replied, his tone almost taunting.

"I dunno.." you shrugged, looking down and adjusting your glasses.

He chuckled, watching you as you adjusted your glasses, his smirk widening.

"Oh, he's oblivious, alright. No guy in his right mind would pass up a girl like you if he knew how you felt."

He took a step towards you, closing the distance between you once again, his gaze fixed on your face. He could sense the bitterness and hurt in your voice, the way you were avoiding looking at him directly. It was almost pitiful, but he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it.

"Wait, so you still wanna hook up with me despite knowing i like another guy?" you asked, scoffing in slight disbelief. You actually thought that he was gonna back off and not try to make advances on you if you told him that.

It didn't work.

He shrugged nonchalantly, moving even closer, his body pressing against yours again.

"Why not? You're here, I'm here. I know you're not looking for anything serious... and neither am I."

He ran his fingers lightly along your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine despite how much you tried to resist the effect he had on you.

You raised your hands up almost hesitantly, cupping his face and watching him cautiously, "Okay, but.. This has to be a secret.." you muttered, poking the inside of your cheek with tip of your tongue.

He smirked, watching as you hesitated before placing your hands on his face. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, but he kept his outward cool demeanor.

His hands found their way to your waist again, gripping you tightly as he pulled you even closer to him.

"Of course. Secret's safe with me, beautiful." he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. "No one has to know. Just between you and me."

He bent his head forward, brushing his nose softly against yours. His breath was warm against your face, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It'll be our little secret." he murmured, his hands still gripping your waist. "You and me. No one else."

You couldn't believe you were actually gonna do this. Hook with Rafe on the low just to get over JJ. You exhaled shakily, leaning in slightly to brush your lips against his, "I still don't like you, though.." you murmured, no trace of venom whatsoever in your words.

He chuckled softly, the sound a low and rough rumble in his chest. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer still as you moved to brush your lips against his.

"Of course you don't." he murmured in response, his voice thick with sarcasm. "You're just here because you're horny and bored. I get it."

He leaned down, his forehead coming to rest against yours as his fingers traced little circles on the bare skin of your hips.

"I don't like you either." he added, his tone lowering to a deep, gravelly whisper.

"You said I'm your type, earlier.." you teased, licking your lips slightly.

He smirked, his eyes darkening as he watched you lick your lips. He knew what you were doing, and he was enjoying every second of it. His hands slid down from your waist to the back of your thighs, his fingers gripping them tightly.

"You are." he confirmed, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You're exactly my type."

His head dipped down, his lips brushing gently against the side of your neck, leaving a trail of soft and feathery kisses along your skin. His hands were still on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he kept you pressed tightly against him.

"You're smart, strong, and beautiful. And you don't give a damn about me." he murmured against your skin, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

You let out a breathless laugh, tilting your head against the locker, "You need therapy, how is that a turn on?" you asked in mocking amusement.

He chuckled against your skin, his lips trailing down to the crook of your neck. He bit down gently, leaving a slight mark on your flesh before pulling back to look at you. There was a glint in his eyes as he responded.

"Therapy's for pussies." he snorted, his grip on your thighs tightening once more, rings digging into your flesh a little.

"Besides, I like it when you don't like me. It's sexier that way." he teased, his tone low and suggestive.

You raised your hand, burying it in the messy hair at the back of his head, tugging it back a little, "No, I'm serious... You have issues Rafe."

His eyes darkened, his smirk deepening at the feeling of your hand in his hair. He tilted his head backwards as you tugged, a small groan escaping his lips.

"I know." he admitted, his voice rough. "I've got more issues than the New York Times."

He let out a dry, bitter laugh, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips, pulling you even closer so that your bodies were completely pressed against one another.

"But you want me anyway." he murmured, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

You scoffed as mockingly as you could, dipping your head in the crook of his neck, pressing slow open mouthed kisses under his jaw.

He stifled a moan, his grip on your hips tightening as your lips found his neck. His eyes closed involuntarily, his breath hitching as he felt your tongue against his skin.

"You're so rough." he murmured, his head tilting back to give you better access to his neck. "Mmm...You're too good at this." he added, his words a low, needy whine.

You continued your assault on his neck, your hand tightening in his messy hair, fisting it as you mouthed at his neck, "You're crushing me you big baby.." you muttered as he basically melted under your lips, his head resting on your shoulder, hands slipping under your old, marina t-shirt.

He let out another low moan as you fisted your fingers in his hair, his body becoming weak under your touch. He was practically putty in your hands, the usually arrogant and cocky version of him vanishing into thin air. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you even closer to him.

"I can't help it." he muttered, his voice rough and low. "You make me weak in the knees. I'm helpless against you." he added, his head falling back once more, baring his neck to your assault.

You smiled against his skin, feeling the effect you had on him. You knew you were in control here and you relished in it. You nipped at his neck, your teeth grazing against his skin, leaving a trail of light bites and hickeys as you continued your assault.

"You're so pathetic, you know that?" you teased, your lips finding their way to his ear. "You smell good though.."

He let out another low moan, his breath coming out in uneven gasps as your lips found their way to his ear. He was practically trembling under your touch, the sound of your voice and your lips against his skin driving him wild. He couldn't form words, couldn't think straight, couldn't do anything except let you take control.

"Yeah?" he managed to gasp out, his hands gripping your hips once more. "You like the way I smell?" he asked, his voice rough and needy.

Your breathing was matching his, heat blooming through your whole body as you kissed his neck languidly, "Mhm.. your sounds turn me on.. I like when men aren't afraid to be vocal.." you mumbled shakily in in his ear.

He moaned again at your words, his voice becoming low and almost animalistic. He was desperate for your attention, for your touch, for anything you were willing to give him. He had never felt this way before, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Jesus, you're killing me." he growled, his grip on your hips tightening once more. "I'll make any sound you want me to, just keep doing that.."

"You like neck kisses?" you asked condescendingly, grazing your nose under his jaw and pressing light kisses there.

He nodded wordlessly, his body quivering under your touch. He was completely at your mercy, his usually cocky and confident self melting away under your kisses and teasing. He let out another low moan, his eyes closed tightly as you continued your assault on his neck.

"Yes...God, yes." he gasped out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love them, I love your lips on my neck. It feels so good.. don't stop."

"Also you look very good when you workout.." you mumbled against his skin, biting down on the spot where his pulse fluttered under your lips, your teeth sinking in the flesh.

He groaned, his eyes closing tightly as your teeth sank into his flesh. His body jerked involuntarily, his breathing ragged and labored. The combination of your teeth and your words was driving him crazy. He was completely undone, completely at your mercy. He let out another shaky gasp, his hands gripping your hips tighter, as if trying to anchor himself.

"Thank you." he managed to croak out, his voice rough and breathy. "I'll...I'll work out more often if you keep saying things like that."

"Don't get used to nice me.." you chuckled, carding your fingers slowly through his hair, raising your head from his neck to try and lock eyes with him.

He chuckled weakly, his eyes fluttering open slowly to meet yours, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. He was still trying to regain his composure, trying to regain the cocky air that he usually exuded. But he knew that it was pointless, that he was completely in your power at the moment.

"Don't worry, I won't." he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I like you better when you're being a little mean, anyway. It's hot.."

"Do you know what's also very hot? When you're all dirty and sweaty.. from, you know, working out.. And shirtless in grey sweats.." you said a moment later, your words trailing off into a teasing tone, your grip on his hair tightening just a little, pulling his head back so that he was looking at you.

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a moan, his head falling back obediently as you pulled his head up, his eyes locking with yours. His eyes were dark and dilated, his body tensed with desire. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I'll have to remember that." he smirked weakly.

"Were you actually serious about fucking here in the gym locker room?" you whispered.

He chuckled darkly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes flickered around the gym room. It was mostly empty, aside from a few people on treadmills on the other side of the room.

"Oh, I was completely serious." he said, his voice low and husky. "I've been thinking about it since you first walked in here. You have a way of, uh...stirring things up in me, you know."

"When i walked in here and started chewing you out for sleeping with me last night?" you asked amused, raising one brow.

He chuckled softly, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He was still embarrassed about how affected he was from last night, but he knew that he would never admit it. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

"Yeah, well. I'd rather just focus on the, uh...positive things." he teased, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer to him, his grip on you tight. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Like, how amazing you felt last night."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he whispered into your ear, the words sending a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel his body tensing up, and you knew that he was just as affected by this as you were. Despite the circumstances, there was something so hot about being in the empty locker room, the only sound being your heavy breaths.

"I just-" he started, his breath hot against your ear. "I just want to be inside you-"

You exhaled shakily, tilting your head back against the locker behind your, falling silent as he continued to press you against the cold metal with his body. Were you about to let Rafe fuck you in an empty gym locker room? I don't know maybe.. As you said before, you were just a girl and self control ran only so far.

He could feel the tension between you, the way you trembled as he held you against the lockers. He could see the desire in your eyes, the same desire that he knew was mirrored in his own. He pressed even closer, his body flush against yours as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and desperation.

"Please-" he whispered, his hands roaming down your sides, his grip on you tightening. "I need you. Right now."

You clicked your tongue, furrowing your brows as you tried to hold onto your last shred of control, "What if someone comes in?"

He pressed his lips against your jawline, his kisses growing more urgent as he moved down towards your neck. He nipped at your skin, his teeth grazing against your collarbone.

"We'll be quiet." he whispered, his hands roaming down your body, exploring every inch of you. "No one will know. It'll be just you and me."

"Rafe.. Are you actually serious?" you asked, chuckling breathlessly.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. He was barely holding onto control himself, and it showed.

"As serious as i'll ever be." he said, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pressed his body against yours. "Please." he pleaded, his tone growing more desperate. "I need you. Now."

"Okay but if they ban me for public indecency, it's your fault.." you muttered, your hands coming up to cup his face again.

He let out a small laugh, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. He knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you, and it felt good.

"I'll buy you a membership. Don't worry." he said, his hands roaming down to your thighs, lifting you up and pressing you against the lockers.

You shook your head, grimacing in slight amusement at his words, your arms wrapping around his neck for support, "You're so funny.." you mumbled sarcastically.

He smirked, his hands grasping your thighs tighter as he held you against the lockers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. He was enjoying this, enjoying the power he had over you in this moment.

"Is that what you like about me? My sense of humor?" he teased, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"I don't like anything about you.." you teased, a small grin tugging at your lips as he leaned in.

He chuckled weakly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Liar." he mumbled, his lips trailing down your jawline, his hands roaming up your legs.

"Shut up.." you groaned in mock annoyance leaning in and seeking his lips for a kiss.

He let out a soft chuckle, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss. He was trying to be quiet, to hold back the sounds he wanted to make, but it was getting harder and harder as you deepened the kiss, your hands roaming his chest and his back, pulling him closer to you.

You wasted no time returning his kiss, nails digging into his bare shoulders as you kissed him, a new wave of arousal washing over you despite the circumstances you were in. Despite the person holding you against the lockers kissing you with a fervor that left you breathless. You were actually doing this. You were gonna have sex in a gym locker room, with a bunch of spoiled kooks working out outside, actually risking getting thrown out for public indecency if someone decided to come in.

He groaned softly against your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders and your body pressed against his in a way that was making him go crazy with desire. He broke away from the kiss, his eyes dark with arousal as he looked down at you. "You know, for someone who claims to hate me you're sure acting pretty desperate right now."

"I could say the same for you.." you retaliated weakly, furrowing your brows as you locked eyes with him.

He chuckled lightly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pressed you harder against the lockers.

"Desperation isn't a good look on you." he teased, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to your collarbone.

You rolled your eyes in mild annoyance, "Rafe, has anybody told you, you talk too much?" you grumbled, tugging at the hair on the back of his head.

He groaned softly, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he tilted his head back slightly, enjoying the tug of your fingers in his hair.

"Only you," he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "You keep complaining, I think you secretly like it."

He pressed his body against yours, his kisses becoming more urgent as he nipped and sucked at your skin, his hands roaming up and down your body, trying to get as close to you as possible. "You gonna keep bitching, or are you gonna shut your mouth and let me touch you?" he growled softly in your ear.

You scoffed shaking your head, growing more annoyed and aroused as his fingers snaked between the two of you, popping the button of your jean shorts with practiced ease, "You seem awfully good at this.. You fuck a lot of girls in the gym locker room?" you asked lowly, your words meant to touch a nerve despite their shakiness.

He paused, his fingers stopping in their tracks as he looked up at you. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something else.

"No." he said curtly. "Not in the locker room." he added, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you jealous, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"Why would i be jealous over you?" you asked, feeling his arms loosen their hold on your thighs to lower you down a little. You let your shorts fall to the tiled floor, leaving you only in your underwear and t-shirt. Your hands unwrapped from his neck to untie the laces of his grey sweats tugging them down as you smirked up at him.

He watched as you untied the lacing of his sweatpants, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He was a little surprised at your boldness but couldn't complain. He pushed his sweatpants down, kicking them away and letting them pool at his ankles.

"Good question," he replied, his eyes roaming your body hungrily. "You tell me." he said, his hands wandering up your legs once more.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hands grabbed you tightly, picking you up once more and pressing you against the lockers, his body flush against yours.

"I think you're jealous.." he mumbled in between kisses, his lips moving down to your neck.

"And i think you're too self-absorbed.." you mumbled back, kissing him briefly, and cupping his face roughly, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He let out a low moan, his hands grabbing your thighs to hold you in place. You could feel him straining against his boxer briefs, his arousal all too obvious as he leaned his head down, his lips trailing down to your collarbone.

"Mmm maybe.. but you won't be complaining in a minute." he murmured, his teeth nipping at your skin.

He shifted slightly, using one hand to grab your hip, guiding your body against his, and rubbing his bulge against your core. He could feel the heat and moisture through your underwear, and it was driving him crazy. "See? You're already so wet for me." he murmured softly, the sound of his words sending a shiver down his spine. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" His free hand trailed up your thigh to the waistband of your underwear, his thumb brushing against the skin of your hip.

He pushed himself against you more, the feel of your body against him driving him crazy. He could felt himself getting harder, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck, while he fumbled to pull down your underwear, his fingers trailing against your skin.

"I'm gonna make you forget all about him, just wait and see..." he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, he was getting impatient, and you could feel it.

You exhaled a shaky breath, head tilting back against the locker as his fingers brushed against you almost desperately trying to pull down your underwear despite the position "Don't think you can really pull them down from this position," you mumbled.

He lifted his head, a scowl spreading across his lips as he looked down at your underwear, his fingers still trying to pull them down. He groaned in frustration, his hips pushing against your even harder.

"Yeah, you're right."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you could see a glint of challenge in them.

"Then I guess I'll have to rip them off."

He wrapped a hand around the fabric of your underwear, giving it a sharp tug. The sound of the cotton tearing filled your ears, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement course through you. And maybe a bit of disappointment given these were your favorite pair of undies.

He let the ruined underwear fall to the ground and ran a hand against your core, his fingers sliding against your slick slit, gathering your wetness.

Your jaw fell slack as he actually went through with ripping your underwear, "Oh my god!" you whisper shouted at him, "Am i supposed to just walk out of here commando in shorts?" you asked, shuddering slightly as his fingers brushed against your folds.

"Damn, i didn't think about that.." He mumbled, his eyes looking down between you two to the ruined underwear that was on the floor now. He lifted his head up and looked at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"I guess that's a problem for future you" He said, before leaning forward once more to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his fingers continuing to tease between your legs.

You rolled your eyes before kissing him back, a small moan escaping your lips, the sound getting muffled by the rough kiss.

He deepened the kiss, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth hungrily. His fingers rubbed against your clit, pressing against it in little circles as he tried to devour you. He was rough, but there was a certain needy desperation to his touches. You could feel how bad he wanted you. He broke the kiss, and moved to your neck, biting and sucking against the skin. "You're so cute when you're mad.."

You breathing grew more ragged as his fingers continued to circle your clit, the pleasure intense but not quite enough. "You just ruined a perfectly good pair of underwear.." you mumbled between moans.

"I'll buy you a new one" He replied, his breath warm against your skin. His lips trailed down to your shoulders, kissing and biting along the way. "Just.. shut up and enjoy it." he moved your shirt up. "You're talking too much."

"God, you're annoying." you replied, tilting your head to the side to give him more room to kiss and bite at you. "The shirt stays on.." you mumbled, too anxious to be completely naked.

He rolled his eyes but didn't push. His lips trailed back up to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin before he moved to your ear.

"Fine."

His hands moved to your hips, gripping you tightly as he ground against you. A moan escaping his lips as he relished the friction.

He kissed your neck before moving to the other side. His lips and teeth teasing your sensitive skin, his hands roaming your body, mapping every contour. "Can't believe we're doing this in my gym.. in public.." he murmured against your skin, his words sending a shiver through you.

You felt his hand dip between your bodies, his touch heavy and desperate as he tucked himself from his boxers, slipping inside you with ease and without any warning. The motion left you breathless, a slow moan escaping your lips and cutting off any comment you were ready to throw his way.

He groaned against your neck as he started to move, his breathing turning heavy. "You can't be loud.. god can you imagine if someone heard us?"

You were glad you weren't because right now you were a drooling mess after a few thrusts. "I just.. I don't--" you tried, your words getting cut off by his own heavy breaths. You bit your hand, the only thing you could think of to be quiet, but it was getting more and more difficult. You were feeling so much - his weight pressing your back in the locker, his breath on your neck, his body moving against you. It was all too much. "It wasn't my idea.." you mumbled, your words shaky as he pounded inside you.

He groaned, his hips working against your, pushing you hard against the locker. "Fuuuuck.. i knowww.. but, you did follow me here" he grumbled, his lips on the side of your neck. He wasn't wrong, and you were cursing yourself for being so stupid and horny. "We're probably already caught on camera.. so you better try and shut up." He warned, his teeth biting at your earlobe, his breaths becoming ragged.

"I didn't follow you here you dragged-.." you started, cutting off your own sentence with a small moan, as your nails dug into his shoulder, "There's a camera in the locker? Or.. or you mean outside?" you asked breathlessly, your anxiety spiking up along with the arousal.

He chuckled darkly against your ear, his pace picking up, "Outside.. there's like four.." His words were almost mocking.

A shiver ran up your spine as the gravity of the situation started to dawn on you. You couldn't believe what you were letting him do to you. "Four.. and you still decided this was a good idea, dragging me in here.." you mumbled.

He chuckled as he bit your earlobe again. "Of course i did, cause you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. I needed to shut you up.." He replied, the pace getting more eager as he used you against the locker. "And i couldn't let you make those pretty little sounds in public.. and have everyone staring at you..."

All words flew out of your mind like a flock of startled birds when he picked up the pace, your moans mixing with small whimpers, forehead resting on his shoulder, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades, the pleasure mounting.

He groaned as his body tensed up, his movements growing rougher. "Shh.. quiet" He mumbled, his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moans. "You're too damn loud, it's a miracle none of my friends heard you yet.."

Your head spun as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. His hand over your mouth did little to help, the sounds even though they were breathy, they were still audible. In the back of your mind, you wondered if anybody was outside or if anybody could overhear the sounds of your bodies against the locker, and you weren't sure which was worse. It didn't help that he wasn't quiet himself either. You tilted your head against the locker in pleasure, your finger gripping his hair for support.

He pressed closer against you, his hard chest flush to your back. He groaned against your neck as he continued his rough pace "God you're so damn tight, i could just-" He growled

He cut himself and bit the side of your neck, his hand not leaving your mouth. Your skin was becoming marked up all over from him. "There's a damn mirror behind of us, you know that, right?" He asked, his hand moving from your mouth, grabbing your chin and forcing your gaze to look at it, "Look at you" He murmured, his hand moving to your jaw, making you look at yourself, "all marked up, looking so damn wrecked already." He groaned against your ear.

Your half lidded eyes fixed instantly on the mirror over his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans as you watched your own expression with every thrust in the reflective surface. Your face was twisted up in pleasure, your glasses sitting askew on your nose, barely visible by his body shielding you. "That's kinky.." you muttered between moans when he moved his hand away, turning to look at him, words coming out choked and almost inaudible.

He smirked, his eyes roaming over your disheveled frame, "Of course it is." He replied, slowing the pace as he took in the sight in front of him. You were a mess, hair, all messed up, your face red and panting, and your shirt crumpled. "Look at you, all messed up and you haven't even came on my cock.." he mumbled teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you swallowed thickly, his words sending another shiver across your heated skin. "Yet.." you mumbled, your eyes flickering back to the mirror

He grinned, his gaze following yours to the mirror behind him. "Yet," he echoed, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. "Look at yourself in the mirror f‘me." His tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Your gaze returned to the mirror, your eyes locking with your own reflection. You could see the flush on your cheeks and the way your chest was rising and falling heavily. Your glasses were even more askew on your nose, on the verge of falling off. You looked completely disheveled. His thrusts became more demanding, bringing you both almost painfully close, and you watched how your mouth fell open slightly in the mirror, eyes squeezing shut as you clenched and fluttered around him, orgasm approaching too quickly.

He groaned, watching you coming apart, his pace growing relentless, "Look up, at the mirror" He demanded again, but this time he gripped your chin again, forcing you to keep your gaze on the both of you through the mirror. He was still going at a brutal pace that you couldn't even moan properly. Any sound you tried to make from the pleasure, came out in a strangled moan. His eyes were fixed on you, watching how you were barely keeping yourself together. "God you look like such a mess, your eyes are all dark," he murmured against your ear, his hand tracing your neck, "and here.. look at these.." He traced his fingers over the forming hickeys on your neck again, marking you up with them. "all made by me" He whispered.

Your expression was almost pained as your eyes moved from the mirror behind him to his blue eyes, struggling to keep your eyes open "'M close..." you mumbled, words coming out mixed with a whimper.

His hand on your jaw tightened, pulling your gaze up to look at your expressions in the mirror. "Yeah? You look like you are going to pass out" He mumbled, his hand drifting from your jaw to your throat, putting slight pressure on your pulse point, "Your neck is marked up, your eyes are all half lidded, and you look so wrecked" His grip on your jaw was almost bruising as he kept going. "I'm sure everyone outside can hear you" He let go of your neck, moving his hand away and putting it on your waist.

His pace grew even rougher, almost bordering on painful, but the pleasure was too blinding. Your moans were becoming louder, not being able to care about anyone outside of the room, your eyes were getting teary, and you were sure the mirror was fogged up from your heavy breathing. His grip on your waist was getting increasingly painful, you were sure you were going to be bruised up in the morning, but you could care less. "Please Rafe.. i need to come.."

He groaned at how wrecked you were, you were a sight. A beautiful sight. He needed you to be quiet. But before even letting you finish your sentence, he pressed his hand against your mouth once again, covering your mouth so that your moans would be muffled. His hand was large, blocking any escaping sounds from your voice.

Your eyes shot open in surprise when his hand covered your mouth. All that was coming out of it now was muffled noises, some whines and whimpers slipping out, while the more demanding and louder moans were stifled. His fingers were pressed against the corners of your lips, and your glasses were becoming even more askew.

Your sounds were even more filthy like this. It was something about covering your mouth. He couldn't even say it was an intentional move on his part, it practically happened on reflex, like a natural motion, but now that it happened, he knew it was the right one. "God you just need to keep that mouth shut for a second" He whispered in your ear through clenched teeth, watching your eyes closing in pleasure

Your body was shaking from both the pleasure, and the way he was handling you. It was so aggressive and rough, but it couldn't be otherwise. If it was any more gentle, you both would've just given it away. You couldn't even see the mirror anymore, the edges of your vision were fuzzy and all you could focus on was his face in front of you and your expression in the mirror on the wall behind him. You could feel his gaze burning on your half lidded eyes and parted lips, and it was like his hands were everywhere, taking everything from you in that moment. One hand on your mouth, the other holding your body up, chest pressed against yours. You tried to keep your legs wrapped around his waist but you were so very close.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his gaze fixated on your face and the way you couldn't even focus any more. His whole body was pressed against yours; chest to chest, his hand on your mouth, and that look in his eyes made it even more intimate. He could feel it; your legs were barely wrapped around his waist anymore, and if it weren't for his hand on your waist, you would have already slumped to the floor.

Your eyes were barely open, your vision was getting blurry and for a moment, the only thing you could make out was Rafe through your eyelashes. You could hardly breathe. Your body trembled softly, trying to keep yourself balanced, but it was like you were floating in a void. Suddenly, you were snapped out of the haze by the sound of his voice. His hand was still covering your mouth, but it was like his grip loosened for a moment, and words were whispered against your ear.

"Come for me." His command was low and guttural. You could hardly hear it, even if it was right next to your ear, but you could feel it; the way his whole body was pressed against you, leaving no space between, the way his voice sent chills down your spine and the words he said. It was almost like a spell. With the words said out loud, you felt the pressure on your lower abdomen finally break. Which was kind of a record for you, because no guy had made you finish so quickly.

You closed your eyes, feeling the wave of pleasure crash over your body after those words left his mouth. He groaned softly, his breath hot against your ear. He could feel you trembling and fluttering around him, he could practically taste the whimper on your lips that was now only a moan against his hand. "Good girl" he murmured against your ear. His hand on your mouth loosened, letting it fall down to hold your body up, because it was about to collapse.

You fell forward, collapsing against his chest as you tried to regain control of your breathing. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, but were barely holding up. He let go off your mouth, and instead wrapped his hands around your waist, holding you against his chest as he came with a small whine after a few more thrusts.

Your breathing was harsh and your head was pounding violently from the intense orgasm. Your head was resting on his shoulder, not caring about your glasses or anything, finally letting your hands relax and stop digging your nails in his shoulder blades.

His breathing was almost as harsh as yours. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, trying to recover from what just happened. He felt your head resting on his shoulder, the exhaustion and the bliss overwhelming him. He leaned his head against the top of your head, his hand still on your waist, the other one moving upwards to comb through your hair. He was holding you tighter than what necessary, like he was afraid you would disappear any second.

"Did you come inside of me, Rafe?" you asked, your voice hoarse and almost inaudible. You didn't know why you asked because you could definitely feel it dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

Rafe groaned, his grip on your waist tightening. He wasn't expecting that question, not now. His body tensed up a little as your words hit his ears. It was such a blunt question, but then again, you were the type of person to shoot straight between the eyes with their words. He had to take a deep breath before answering, trying to keep his voice steady, but it came out a little shaky.

"Yeah.. I did.."

He buried his face into your hair, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing slightly. But it was also because he was still trying to catch his breathing from what just happened. Even though he knew it wasn't necessary, he still felt the need to hide his face from you, even if you couldn't see him anyways given the position you were in.

"Are you trying to baby trap me? And this is barely the 2nd time we sleep together.." you teased lowly, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck.

He chuckled softly, his grip on your waist loosened a little as he let his head rest against the side of your head. Even though you were joking, he felt a sense of warmth in his chest. The thought of it was oddly comforting, even if it was just a mere joke. He didn't answer your question. Instead, he ran his hand through your hair, letting out a low hum.

You pressed a small kiss on the side of his neck without really realizing that you did so, still clinging to him with your arms and legs wrapped around him loosely.

A soft gasp left his lips as he felt ypur lips brush against his neck, his body freezing for a moment. The act felt so intimate, so natural. His hand in your hair twitched, like he was preventing himself from doing something, but he couldn't quite pin point what it was. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest, and he wasn't sure if it was from the aftermath of what just happened, or the sensation of your body so intertwined with his. He tried to compose himself, but his voice came out a little strained when he spoke.

"Don't.." he breathed out, gripping your waist a little tighter, his voice a little hoarse. "Don't get all soft on me now." He knew it was a lie. He knew that he craved the softness that came with your voice, the affection from your touches. But he tried to resist it, even though he was failing miserably at it right now.

You let out a small breathless chuckle, patting his shoulder, signaling him to put you down. "I could never go soft on you.." you muttered in amusement, trying to ignore the small feeling of guilt tugging at your mind. You had actually slept with Rafe again, in a public place completely sober. If last night was a mistake, today wasn't. And he came inside of you.

He grunted a little as he felt your patting his shoulder, but he couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips at your words. He knew you were trying to hide your own feelings behind it. He slowly lowered you down, your body sliding against his until you stood upright on your feet. He tried not to let his gaze linger on your body, but it was hard not to.

"Yeah.. that's a lie." He muttered, his hands still resting on your waist.

Your footing was a bit wobbly as he set you down, squeezing your thighs together and glancing down at your ruined underwear on the floor. "I can't believe you actually ripped my underwear off.." you muttered as he fixed himself up, adjusting his boxers and sweatpants. "I'm actually about to go commando in shorts?" you asked adjusting your glasses.

Rafe chuckled softly, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you adjust yourself. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, but also a little bit of guilt. Seeing how he had just made you go commando in public gave him a sort of twisted satisfaction. He ran his fingers through his hair, fixing his disheveled appearance quickly before answering you.

"I'll buy you new ones." He said with a smirk.

"You already said that.." you mumbled in mild annoyance, cleaning your self up with a towel he handed you before slipping your shorts back on, shuddering at the feeling of being without underwear, "I hate you, Rafe.." you sneered up at him, grimacing.

Rafe chuckled softly, his smirk growing even wider at your annoyance. He was enjoying this way too much. He watched you clean yourself up with the towel, still feeling a little proud of himself for making you go commando in public. Your words were harsh, but he knew there was no truth to them. He couldn't help teasing you about it.

"Hate me, huh? Is that why you keep coming back for more?" he quipped back with a smirk, folding his arms across his chest.

You picked up your ripped underwear from the floor, holding it up to him with an unimpressed look on your face, "These were my favorites.." you mumbled, frowning at the sight.

He raised his eyebrows, taking the torn underwear from your hand, inspecting it with a sly look in his eyes. He chuckled softly, enjoying the sight of you standing there scolding him.

"Oh, these were your favorites, huh? Well, I guess I have a new favorite now.." he said with a smirk, folding the torn underwear and shoving it into his pocket.

Your face twisted in a horrified expression as he tucked the red lacy, ripped underwear in the pocket of his grey sweats, "Oh my god, don't tell me you're actually keeping those.." you murmured under your breath.

Rafe shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk on his face as he looked at you with those smug, yet charming eyes. He chuckled at your horrified expression, taking enjoyment from teasing you.

"Yeah, I'm keeping them. Why? Afraid I'll sniff them in my spare time?" He teased, a glint in his eyes as he leaned a bit closer, his smirk growing wider as he watched your reaction.

"I'm just gonna pretend that's you getting back at me for cutting your favorite belt.." you scratched the side of your face awkwardly, watching him with a grimace.

Rafe's eyes widened a little, a smirk creeping onto his face. He had almost forgotten about that little incident. He let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you.

"Yeah, I guess that makes us even then. Though I have to say, I definitely got the better end of the deal here.."

He held up the ripped underwear, his eyes glinting with mischief as he gave them a little shake in the air.

"Don't-.." you reached up to swat his hand that was waving your underwear around casually, "-wave them around, jesus..." you scolded quietly.

He laughed softly, pulling his hand away from your swatting range. He was enjoying this way too much, but he couldn't help himself. Especially seeing how flustered you got over him waving your underwear around.

"What's the matter? Don't want me to show them off to all my friends? I could probably start a bidding war for these babies.."

He teased, his smirk widening as he wiggled the torn underwear in the air again.

"You're so gross.." you groaned, still trying to reach the underwear in his hand.

Rafe chuckled softly, easily holding the underwear out of your reach. He was loving how desperate you were getting over getting them back.

"Aw, don't be like that.. I'm just kidding. I'm not gonna show them off to anyone. But I am gonna keep them.

And who knows? Maybe they'll come in handy sometime."

He said with a smirk, shoving the underwear in his pocket again.

You nodded, watching as he stuffed them back in his pocket, pursing your lips and scratching your eyebrow "But they're ruined.. you can't wear them if you want to.." you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. He had to admit, he liked your bratty attitude. He knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, and it was working.

"Oh, you think I'm wearing them? Please, I have my own underwear.. these are strictly for, uh, other uses."

He smirked, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he pulled you by the waist so your bodies pressed together.

You grinned in mock disgust, imagining whatever he was referring to without meaning. The problem with Rafe was that you didn't know if he was joking or actually keeping them for other purposes. Which was both flattering and a bit creepy. "So you're that desperate then?" you asked, cocking one brow up teasingly.

He chuckled, amused by how repulsed you looked. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you about the underwear situation.

"Desperate? Oh, please. You couldn't imagine what I'm desperate for.."

He smirked, leaning in to speak softly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

"But let's just say, I have a few creative ideas for what I could do with those little things."

Your grimace didn't budge as you looked up at him, shaking your head "I wish other people knew how creepy and gross you are.." you muttered.

He chuckled softly, raising his eyebrows in mock offense.

"Aw, you wound me.. here I was, trying to be all charming and seductive and you call me creepy and gross. That hurts, doll."

He teased, leaning down to press a mockingly soft kiss to your neck.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile, muttering a small "whatever" under your breath. You stepped back looking up at him "I hate to cut this short but we need to exit the locker room at some point.." you pointed out. "It smells like man sweat and axe body spray in here.." you squeezed your nose in genuine disgust.

He chuckled softly at your grimace, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah.. you're right, it does kind of smell like ass in here. "

He made a show of sniffing the air, pretending to gag. "God, it's like a chemical weapon in here."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door.

"Come on, let's get outta here before we get a brain aneurysm or something."

A/N: This was kinda small sorry.. the flashbacks are actually so fun to write (maybe because i like rafe..) Also he definitely likes mean women. He's what JJ would call pussy-whipped. Idk, I'm prolly gonna be posting more of these flashbacks because the story line doesn't really stretch out that much. Also i just wanna write more Rafe in general so maybe a stalker! Rafe x reader for the next story? (just because that tag does sm to me)

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen @wh0reforbucknasty @wtfisastiles @annaconscience @pqndxra @carrerascameron @nini2mem @iynsane @gublerstylesobrien1238

[little-bunny-in-space]

I think it's also important in the midst of all this to know that most the supporters of these monstrous people... are just scared and desperate. The thought that "humanizing them makes you just as bad" shows so little understanding of humanity and of history as well.

The ones who supported Hitler for example- Which many did not actually "support" him, his ideals or what he was doing- were:

Just as terrified as their "enemies."

Full of state produced propaganda, so much so that they don't know the truth- the truth that has been fed to them is what they believe.

A combination of both.

I can already tell you as a queer person (and a Christian) that lives in a red state amongst 100% conservative views around me- the very ones who hate gay and trans people- have their algorithms so fucked up that it overemphasizes what "the other side" believes in. Based off of what the social media algorithms pick up on their phones, by their location, by their age, and a few follows- our devices are 100% propaganda machines. Just as the Nazi party took over and started putting up posters and using sophisticated adverts and subliminal messaging showing their people that their "enemies" were horrible, terrible and out to get them, that their party wanted to help them and their families. They attacked weak spots that appeal to everyday people, like their work, their families and the livelihoods of their children. Then, for the ones who did not blindly follow- they would be not only ostracized but murdered and tortured, as well as their families and children.

...Sound familiar?

Although those things are not the truth- their "enemies" were not enemies at all for example- these people are being fed the same thing. Over half of my conservative fathers reels are Andrew Tate, those falling gay and trans people pedos, and blowing up the "great" things our current administration and politics are doing. As a queer person I know that a trans woman is not trying to diddle kids by getting HRT. Not one bit of it is true. But they don't care. They never will.

This is the exact same for us here in red states. Unfortunately, the older generations (looking at mainly Baby Boomers, Gen X, and some Millennials) did not take their history lessons seriously. If they were born American, most are middle class and never had to face the realities of brainwashing propaganda, war, or torture of their people. That is specifically why these people are the very worst ones that blindly believe the lies we are being fed on a daily basis. I can 100% tell you that these kinds of people are perfectly comfy in their homes and apartments scrolling their phones- kids are in college, they have food on the table, they aren't being genocided. Why would they look for the truth, when they are the ones that are comfortable? They aren't in pain. Why would they change?

Their social media is the very same propaganda machines that were used by the Nazi party, except worse. It's constant instant gratification. And if one of them does break free- and notices something isn't right- they are ostracized, and for queer people like me, hate crimed, sometimes worse.

For people like me- it's forced compliance. It's so easy to say "if you have any empathy for these people ur literally compliant in what they’re doing" when you aren't one of these people backed into a corner. When you aren't in danger of being hate crimed it is so easy to say to "not comply."

The truth is: These people in the red states don't necessarily believe these things or support these people that would take advantage of us in a minute. If we have a zero-tolerance policy, we are homeless, we are raped, we are dead. If you don't atleast "pretend" to go with the crowd you are done for. And for most of us that are yknow, POOR, just moving away is not an option.

We are in need of a revolution. To go against social media and corporations that control us and go back to basics. Destroy every algorithm, every AI. Realize that every single person around us are deserving of rights. No matter their actions or place in life. Not sure what that revolution would look like- but looking and realizing that we are literally living in a world where our devices make us constantly tracked, listened to, watched by the very powers oppressing us is a start. We have seen in the past few months how easily the owners of social media are swayed by the almighty dollar and line up right behind those who are creating the propaganda themselves.

But- at the end of the day, even the evilest person was once a child. Some starving for love and attention. A safe place to not be hurt. Some are compliant in the evils only for their own safety. Not one person on this earth deserves to be judged at all by another. Justice must be served for the evils they have done- I'm not excusing that. And abuse does not at all justify any sort of evil. But the very thought that a person's single action or belief reflects on the rest of their community and people like them is the exact same thought process that leads to racism and genocide.

I thought it was fairly normal to feel empathy for bad people.

I thought it was common, even.

But after my Elon/Grimes post... now I'm wondering if I was mistaken about that.

I wrote a post about Trump being traumatized after his assassination attempt and a post about his poor adaptation to aging. I expressed sympathy for him in both cases. But I still maintain my white hot hatred of him and wish for him to face consequences.

Elon was abused by his father. Some of the stories are incredibly tragic. Hearing those stories triggers an involuntary response in my emotional systems that I can't stop no matter how much I despise present-day Elon. I also wonder if that abuse never occurred maybe we wouldn't be dealing with this current clusterfuck.

I have never held so much anger towards a single person as I do my brother. But I also see him as a victim of abuse. I know he was once a really good person and he was slowly corrupted. I feel sorry for him. I mourn the amazing person he used to be. And I still love him.

But that doesn't make me any less angry.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Godspeed

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Now back home in Los Angeles, your first priority is protecting yourself, and Dieter, from Warren. Warnings: pov switching, warren's a pos, pining, fluff, comfort, dieter bravo is good at being romantic, revenge photo threats, shitty ex, panic attack, mutual masturbation via facetime sex, balloons! Words: 6,200

A/N: They never leave me folks. They're all I can think about. My thanks to @devineconjuring for her eyes and her grammar knowledge and dot eating. FYI... when you get to the scene, GG dances to "Godspeed" by Frank Ocean. (hence the title) Photo of the flower arrangement is from Tiffany Gabrus.

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist

✨✨✨

You haven’t even been home for twenty-four hours when you invite Warren over.

You don’t tell Dieter. Guilt plants itself into your heart as you wish him good night, knowing that in less than an hour, Warren will be at your door.

But you want to handle this on your own. If Dieter protected you, you can protect him.

You could hardly hold it together when you called him after you arrived home, his deep voice instantly calming you. He quickly said he couldn’t talk because he was on set, wishing you a good night and telling you he loved and missed you. You cried yourself to sleep in your lonely bed, holding on to the fancy hotel robe he had worn, trying to inhale as much of his scent as you could.

You’re miserable now, sitting on the couch, your hands clasped tightly, as your foot nervously taps against the colorful terrazzo patterned rug that Warren always called too loud.

The doorknob jingles–as if Warren thinks he could just freely walk into the home he hasn’t been in for over a hundred days–before a few sharp knocks against the door make you jump. 

Every step you take, your heart pounds against your chest. 

You unlock the door, opening it to reveal the blue eyes you used to get lost in. The sight of his clever smile, which you used to adore, now makes your stomach turn.

“Hey,” he offers.

You don’t greet him. You just step aside and let him walk through the door he stepped out of months ago.

He looks around the space, surely noticing that all the photos of the two of you have been taken down, any signs of his presence long gone.

“Looks good in here," he muses. “You always had an eye for decor.”

“Thanks,” you reply, trying to square your shoulders and hold your head high. You can’t trust anything he says; there’s always a motive behind his words and actions. You fell victim to him for years. Now is not the time to be weak. You have Dieter to protect.

He takes a seat in the same black and white plaid chair he always used to sit in. You hate that chair now.

You settle on your new favorite spot on the couch, where you always sit when you talk to Dieter because you can easily prop the laptop on the side table.

“So,” Warren says with a smirk. “How was London? A smashing good time?” He mocks a British accent at the end. You know exactly what he’s doing. His voice drips with sarcasm, the kind that used to cut you deeply.

“It was good, but that’s not why you’re here,” you respond shortly. “How did you get that photo?”

His eyebrow arches up as he shakes his head back and forth. “Seems like you forgot to stop backing your photos up to our Google Cloud. Imagine my shock when I got a notification on my phone telling me I had a new album called ‘London New Year's,’ and it was filled with photos of my best friend and my wife galavanting naked together in bed. It was hard enough finding out you were there with him from paparazzi photos.”

Your heart sinks. You’re so mad at yourself. You thought you’d severed all digital ties to Warren, but this specific oversight on your part is huge.

“Ex-wife,” you correct him. Your voice is strong and steady, though your hands tremble.

Warren leans back in the chair. “You know, there certainly are some interesting photos in there. It’d be a shame if they wound u—”

“If you release them, it’s illegal. I can’t believe you’d stoop this low, Warren Gregory.” You use his middle name as if you’re his mother, trying to snap a bit of sense into him. “You lied to me for years, cheated on me constantly, and yet this is the lowest of the low for you. I’m disappointed in you. You’re better than this.” Your voice breaks at the end, though you do not cry. You’re done shedding tears for Warren.

Regret flashes across his face, instantly replaced by an infuriatingly smug smile.

"And I suppose Dieter's just the pinnacle of better than me, right? How many times has he gone to rehab? What number partner are you for him?”

The audacity of this man. You take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“None of that defines him now. He’s been nothing but honest and kind to me throughout everything–ever since I met him–and you know this. If he was such an awful person, why was he your best friend?”

His smile falters for a second, and he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"Come on, you can't tell me you're actually happy with him. He's unstable. You deserve better."

You laugh at the irony. "Better? Like you, Warren?”

He allows himself to look ashamed for a split second. “I have made mistakes, and you got caught in the middle. I admit that. But I know you, I know what you need, and Dieter Bravo is not it.”

“You don’t know me anymore,” you say, your voice and your heart gaining strength. Because in your heart, you know, Dieter is it. “The woman you knew? She’s gone. I’ve changed and grown. And Dieter… he sees me.”

Warren scoffs. “Right, because the star of Cliff Beasts 6 with a drug problem is such a catch?”

“That’s enough, Warren. You don’t get to judge him or me. Delete those photos and get out of my house. I’m not asking, I’m telling you.” You stand up, hands clenched at your sides.

He pulls his phone out and taps the screen a few times, then holds it up for you to see. “There. Deleted. But this isn’t the end of it.”

“It is the end, Warren. If you need to contact me, go through my lawyer.”

He pauses, his hand on the doorknob. The last time you saw him like this, he walked out on you curled into a ball with tears streaming down your face. “You’ll regret ever being with him. Dieter will break your heart, just like he has with all the others before you. And by the way, I think I do want the house.”

The door slams behind him, and you collapse onto the couch. Your whole body shakes as adrenaline courses through it. You pick up your phone, and the sight of your wallpaper–Dieter and you smiling in front of the Christmas tree in London–instantly calms you.

You text him a simple message, knowing he’s sleeping, before you curl into a ball and cry.

—-

Da-ding. Da-ding.

Dieter’s awoken by your text tone. He rolls over, and smiles at your message. 

Missing you. I love you. 💖

The clock reads 4:40 AM. He should go back to bed, but he wants to see your beautiful face. It only takes two rings for you to answer his FaceTime. He’s instantly awake when he sees your tear-streaked face.

“Baby? You okay?”

“Warren, he-he threatened the house, and I-I—”

He sees the way you begin to panic, your wide eyes blinking back at him, your chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

“Shh, shh,” he soothes. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

He watches you inhale slowly, trying to steady your breathing.

“The house,” you sob. “He was here, Dee. He-he threatened—”

“Baby, breathe,” his voice soft and firm. “I’m right here with you. Focus on my face.”

Your tear-filled eyes stare at him as he sends you a small, reassuring smile. His heart aches; he wishes he could hold you, but he can’t. All he can do is be there for you via a small screen.

“That’s it, Sweets, just keep breathing,” he encourages softly. “Now, tell me what happened. Slowly.”

You take another shaky breath, wiping at your eyes. “I-I called Warren and had him come over,” your voice quivers. “I’m sorry.”

Dieter’s heart sinks at the thought of you seeing Warren on your own. His jaw clenches, but he keeps his voice calm. "It’s okay. What happened when he came over?"

You take another deep breath. "He… he had photos of us. From London. I forgot to disconnect from our cloud storage."

Dieter's heart races, but he maintains his composure for your sake. "What kind of photos, baby?"

"All of them, even the private ones," you whisper, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. "He threatened to release them, but I made him delete them."

The rage inside Dieter simmers low and hot, but he stays calm for you. “You did the right thing, Sweets. I’m so proud of you.”

You nod, sniffling. “I told him to leave and not come back. But he… he said it wasn’t over. He doesn’t like that we’re together, Dee.”

He lets out a long exhale, wanting nothing more than to fly back home to you right now and protect you from Warren and his cowardly threats.

“Listen to me, baby. Remember what I said before, when he tried to worm his way between us? Fuck everyone else.”

You nod, wiping away your tears. “I just… I feel so stupid.”

“Hey, no,” he responds, his words firm and measured. “You’re not stupid. This isn’t your fault. Warren’s the one trying to manipulate you.” He pauses, realizing that, once again, Warren is planting doubts in your mind. He leans closer to the screen. “Listen to me,” his dark brown eyes bore into yours. “You deserve love and happiness. Don’t let Warren make you feel any less than what you are, okay? He’s going to threaten you, he’s going to threaten me, but as long as we’re together, we can get through it. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. Nothing he says or does will ever change that.”

You sniffle and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” he promises.

A smile finally lifts your lips. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be. Rather be awake talking to you than asleep without you.”

“I know, but I should let you go.”

“No, stay with me for a bit longer. I don’t want you to be alone right now. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then nod. “Okay, just for a little while.”

“That’s my girl.”

He settles back in bed, knowing he’s going to have an exhausting day on set, but he doesn’t care, as long as you know he’s always there for you.

—-

Last night you jotted down a quick checklist of things you need to do today. First thing’s first: call your lawyer.

You spend the next hour detailing Warren’s visit, his threats, and the photos.

This is the bravest and strongest you’ve felt in so long. The irony is not lost on you that it’s all due to Dieter’s love and support.

As much as you miss London and Dieter, you’re ready to face everything head-on. You’ve spent too long letting Warren control your life, even since filing for divorce. It’s time to take charge.

With a newfound sense of purpose, you sit at your computer with a blank document staring back at you. You take a sip of your tea as you contemplate your resumé, which will reflect who you are now–not the picture-perfect wife Warren tried to mold you into, but the creative, independent girl Dieter sees and cherishes.

You begin with your name at the top, and beneath it, “Floral Designer and Artist.”

—-

There’s been a bitterness seething in the back of Dieter’s mind since he woke up. One he really can’t seem to get rid of. He’s been able to get through his scenes, recite his lines, act like the hero when the cameras are filming, but as soon as the director calls cut, his mind instantly goes back to you.

The concealer under his eyes is wiped away, revealing the dark circles from his sleepless night. Emily, his favorite makeup artist, chatters away about all the news she’s heard as she removes his makeup after a long day of shooting, but Dieter barely hears her. His mind and heart are back in Los Angeles with you, in your house where that manipulative bastard confronted you and made you feel scared.

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to protect you, send every single lawyer in the Los Angeles area knocking on Warren’s luxury penthouse’s door, but he also knows how important it is for you to handle all of this on your own. You’d been clear about that when he made sure you had proper representation for your divorce. He respects you–admires you even–but it still doesn’t stop the protective instinct he has for you.

He wonders if he’d feel better if he was there with you, holding you in his arms, whispering against your ear that he loves you as he soothes all that ails you.

He checks his phone again. No new messages from you. He tries not to worry; you told him you had a busy day settling back in and letting your lawyer know what happened. He knows you’re handling things, but the thought of Warren being in your space, making you feel the way you did, makes him boil.

“You alright, Bravo?” Emily’s southern accent pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. Just ready to get home.”

She smiles with an understanding nod. “You’ll be home soon enough.”

—-

Sometimes you’re shocked at how life works. Though your resumé is relatively blank, you decide to include a selection of photos showcasing flower arrangements you’ve made throughout the years.

You make it a point to start early, figuring you’ll have to stop by many floral shops to get your name out there. You decide to first try your favorite shop, Bloom. It’s right down the hill from your home, an easy walk to and from the charming mint green building.

The little bell above the door chimes as you enter, the sweet scent of flowers enveloping you as you walk into one of your favorite places.

“Well, hi there!” a friendly voice calls out from behind a large bouquet being built at a table. Angela, the shop’s owner, emerges from behind the bright blooms. Her curly gray hair is pulled back in a messy bun, her apron covered in greenery and petals. "If it isn't my favorite customer! I was wondering when you'd be back."

You smile warmly at her. “Hey, Angela, it’s good to see you.”

“You too, dear. It’s been a while! How have you been?”

“Oh. Lots of changes lately. Actually…” you pause for a moment, unsure of what you should share, “that’s kind of why I’m here.”

Angela’s eyebrows raise in interest. “Oh? Do tell.”

With a deep breath, you pull out the folder containing your assembled resume and portfolio. “Well, I was hoping to talk to you about maybe picking up some work. I’ve always admired what you do, and I thought maybe I could start here, learn how to do what you do…”

Angela’s eyes light up as she takes the folder from you, putting her glasses on to inspect closer. “Oh my, this is quite a surprise! Let me take a look.”

You watch nervously as she flips through the pages, her eyes scanning your curated photos. Your heart pounds in your chest, hoping your lack of professional experience won’t overshadow your love for floral design.

After what feels like an eternity, Angela looks up with a smile. “Well, I must say, you have quite an eye. You arrange flowers in such a unique, artistic way, far different from what I do…”

Your heart drops. You almost feel ashamed for putting yourself out there in this way. You get ready to not look so disappointed when Angela’s sweet, brown eyes meet yours.

"…and I think we need someone like you here. I mean, they’re all so lovely.”

Relief washes over you. “Thank you.”

Angela nods, closing the folder. “I have been thinking about bringing on some help around here. I could use some fresh eyes and new ideas. My regulars would love something different."

Warmth expands in your chest. “I would love that. Thank you so much, Angela.”

"Perfect! Come by Monday morning at 7:30. That's when the flower deliveries arrive." She hands your folder back with a gentle pat. "And here, let me get you some supplies so you can practice!”

As you walk home, your hands full of flowers, you can’t help but fight the large smile that spreads across your face. You can’t wait to tell Dieter. The thought of having something that's yours—something Warren never touched or controlled—feels like freedom.

—-

Dieter’s sick of the cold. Without you here in London, the wind feels more bitter, the days look grayer, and his suite feels even emptier.

He flops against the couch, his heart aching to talk to you, to make sure you’re doing okay. He checks his phone–he was never one for math, but his timezone math is flawless now. It’s only 12:30 PM in Los Angeles. You’re only entering the afternoon while he just finished a 12-hour shoot and is exhausted. He only has two more weeks of this and then, then, he can be back with you. But for now, staring at the image of you smiling with the Paddington statue will have to suffice until you pick up his FaceTime.

… which you do after three rings. Your wide smile instantly brings him back to life, his heart beating faster against his chest when you softly say “Hi, Dee.”

“Hey, baby, you busy?” He already feels so much warmer and lighter as you chuckle happily, panning the phone down to a myriad of flowers spread across your kitchen counter.

“Kind of. I’m practicing.”

“Practicing what?”

“Oh… for…” your smile grows even wider. He can feel your happiness all these miles away, and it makes his heart explode. “…my new job.”

“What?! Get the fuck out. Baby, I’m so proud of you. You didn’t even tell me you were looking.”

You nod happily. “It’s at the flower shop down the hill. Bloom? It’s that mint green building. I know the owner just from going there a lot and… she really liked my stuff.”

He wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms, swing you around, and pepper proud kisses across your pretty face. For so long, he wanted to share in these moments with you. “Sweets, that’s amazing. You’ve always been so talented, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, it feels—it feels good,” you choke out. “Like, I know it’s not going to fix everything but… I feel like I have something for me now and I’m on the right path.”

He knows what you’re implying. You’re worried about the house, about your money, about supporting yourself. But there’s no way in hell he’d ever let you shoulder that burden alone. “And I’ll be here to help with whatever else needs fixing. You know that.”

“I know Dee, I just… I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You could never, baby. You deserve it all, anything I can give you.”

“I wish you could give me a hug.”

He sighs. “Me too.”

“And a kiss.”

He groans. “Me too.”

“And more.”

He whines. “Me toooooo.”

“Hey, why haven’t we had phone sex yet?”

His eyes widen, brows rising. “I… do not know.”

A mischievous glint sparkles in your eyes. “Have you jerked off since I left? I feel like I should know this.”

“You should know this and I… haven’t.” You gasp. “It’s been over a week. Are you okay?”

“Baby, I’ve been so stressed with filming and so sad without you, it honestly hasn’t really crossed my mind.”

“Well, if you give me like, ten minutes to clean up and maybe get into something a little more comfortable, we can remedy that.”

“Fuck y-yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

You giggle, and the sweet sound of it goes straight to his cock. “Okay, I’ll call you soon.”

He nods, his cock already beginning to pulse when he hangs up.

—-

Your mirror reflects a confident woman. Your shoulders stand tall, your eyes bright with excitement as you adjust the cups of your light pink bra before turning to hike up the straps of the matching thong higher on your hips. You look good, confident, sensual–like you’re going to drive Dieter crazy. You position your laptop on the dresser, making sure your entire body is in frame before you FaceTime Dieter. He instantly picks up, his shirt already off, his back resting against the headboard of the bed you used to share with him in London.

“Baby,” he groans. “Holy fuck, you look so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good. Now watch me.”

You press play on the remote. A sweet guitar begins playing before Frank Ocean croons “I will always love you, how I do.”

Dieter’s eyes widen as you begin to move to the music. Your hands running up and down your body, hips swaying to the sweet beat. You watch him watch you, dark brown eyes roaming your body as he moves his iPad closer and closer to his face.

You’ve never done something like this before, displaying yourself in such a way for someone who’s just happy to watch your barely dressed body sashay.

You look down on where you came from, sometimes But you’ll have this place to call home, always

Your hands trail up to your bra before your fingers trace along the delicate lace edges, teasing your nipples through the thin fabric. You turn your back to the camera, coyly looking over your shoulder as you slowly unhook the clasps. The straps slide down your arms as you let the bra fall away, revealing the smooth expanse of your back to him.

Swaying your hips in time with the music, you turn back to face Dieter, arms crossed over your chest before you wink at him and reveal your breasts, causing a soft groan to escape his lips. The sound emboldens you–you’ve never felt this free and confident in your own skin.

This love will keep us through blinding of the eyes, silence in the ears, darkness in the mind

Trailing your fingers down your stomach, you hook your thumbs in the band of your thong, running them along the straps. Dieter’s eyes follow your every movement, his breathing growing heavier as you sway.

“You’re killing me, Sweets,” he groans.

You smile, feeling wanted and powerful. This isn’t about pleasing someone else or conforming to someone else’s wishes; it’s about the connection with someone who loves and adores you exactly as you are.

“Keep watching Dee,” you tempt, slowly turning around again. You slide your thong down your hips, bending at the waist as you push it to your ankles. You kick the thong away before slowly spreading your legs open, baring your glistening pussy, showing Dieter just how wet you are for him, how much your little show has affected you too.

Confidence soars within you as you turn back around.

“Baby,” he lets out a low sigh as you stand nude in front of him, holding his eye contact as the final lyric is sung.

I will always love you, until the time we die

“Holy shit,” Dieter breathes as the music fades out. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful in my life. I fucking love you so much. Fuck, I don’t know if I’ve ever been this fucking hard before.”

“Show me,” you command, surprising yourself with your boldness.

He groans, shifting on the bed as he pushes down his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and leaking, falling heavily against him. You moan at the sight of him, wishing you could taste the bead of precum glistening on the tip.

Your laptop sits on the edge of your bed, your lip captured between your teeth as you climb on the mattress, crawling across it to sit with your back against the headboard, mirroring how he sits. You can feel the wetness pooling between your thighs as you watch him wrap his wide hand around his cock.

He’s perfectly centered in the screen. His cock sits hard and heavy between his thick, golden thighs. You wish so badly to be able to lick your way from his wide cock up the swell of his stomach, across his broad chest to his sharp collar bones, feeling the rough patches of stubble against his jaw before tasting his plush lips that now sit agape as he slowly drags his fist up and down his length.

You spread your legs wider, your feet straddling your laptop. Dieter’s eyes darken as they roam your body, taking in the sight of your pussy, puffy and wet with need.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls. You follow the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows hard, twisting his fist around the head of his cock.

Frank Ocean quietly sings about Nikes in the background as your hand runs down the length of your body, dipping into the slick spilling out of your pussy. Dieter groans when you gasp as your finger paints a circle around your clit.

“I miss your tongue on my pussy,” you pout.

“Fuck, I do too baby. Wish I could taste you, wish I was right between those soft thighs.”

He’s so gorgeous. You feel so lucky to see Dieter like this–his dark brown eyes almost looking black as they’re overblown with lust, his golden skin shining from the bedside lamp, his cock standing hard as he jerks himself off for you.

Your eyes lock with his as you ever so slowly slide your finger through the slick folds of your cunt, circling your entrance, enamored by the way Dieter’s breath catches when you finally push your finger inside. The feeling makes you gasp, arching your back slightly off the headboard. 

“Ohh, that’s it baby,” he growls. “Let me see you fuck yourself.”

“I can’t wait until you’re back home,” you moan, sticking a second finger in, pushing them deeper inside your wet heat. 

“Two more weeks, baby,” Dieter groans, his hand picking up pace. “Two more fuckin’ weeks.”

“Two more weeks until I get to feel your cock inside me,” you moan.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ explode once I get to you,” he grits, spitting in his palm and stroking himself harder.

Your fingers pump in and out of you, trying to match his pace as your thumb works over your clit. Your free hand clasps around your breast, squeezing and pulling against the tender flesh, desperate and needy for Dieter’s tongue against your skin.

“That’s it, Sweets,” he encourages. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful. My dream girl.”

“I’m close,” you pant. Your muscles begin tightening, the familiar stardust beginning to glimmer behind your eyelids.

“Wait for me,” he says, his hand pumping himself harder. “I want us to cum together.”

You slow yourself, watching how the muscles in Dieter’s arm flex as he strokes himself.

“You wanna cum with me, baby?” you ask, looking into his eyes, marveling at the intensity and love you can see even through the screen.

“Yesss,” Dieter whines. His hand moving faster, chest heaving with each breath, thighs tensing as he brings himself to the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasp, feeling your orgasm right at the crest.

“Me too, baby,” he strains. “Fuck, I wish I was there. Wish I could watch as my cock cums all over your sweet pussy. Wish I could lick it all off your sweet cunt then kiss you and let you taste us.”

You moan at his filthy words, overwhelmed at the thought of tasting the mixture of your sweet release. “Look at me, Dee. Watch me cum for you.”

Your orgasm sets your body alight, glowing for Dieter thousands of miles away as you cry out his name, staring into his eyes as you feel your walls clench your fingers, missing the feeling of your pussy pulsing around Dieter’s thick width. But being able to watch Dieter’s face contort in ecstasy, his mouth falling open as he grunts your name, spilling himself all over his fist and onto his stomach is a good enough replacement.

“I love you,” he lowly says. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you respond, never realizing just how deep a connection could be to somebody, even when they’re a whole ocean away. You never thought your life would become this. A year ago, you felt trapped, and now you’re finding your own path, with a man who loves you exactly as you are. 

—-

Each day of filming feels never-ending, yet Dieter truly enjoys the chaos of projects nearing completion. He collapses into his trailer after another grueling 14-hour day on set. He aches all over, but the excitement of being only one week away from wrap means he’s only one week away from flying back home to Los Angeles… and you.

He pulls out his phone, smiling at the dozens of texts you’ve sent him while he’s been filming. Photos of bouquets you’ve created at Bloom, your grocery haul, the color of the early morning sunrise, the outfit you chose for your first day of work—a black and white striped shirt under a green cardigan, a pair of baggy, dark jeans, and comfortable sneakers. He knows if he ever walked into a flower store and found someone as gorgeous as you working there, he’d go broke buying bouquets. He smiles at the reminder that you are indeed his.

It’s only 2 PM back home in LA, and he knows you’re busy at your first day of work.

The sound of his assistant Court stepping into his trailer makes him look up from his phone.

“Your car will be here in ten. Anything you need?”

“No, thanks. Hey, you want to see something cool?” Dieter asks, holding up his phone.

“You’ve already shown me the video of that little hippo like twenty times, Mr. Bravo,” Court sighs.

“No, no,” he chuckles. “Look at what my girl’s been doing.”

Dieter brings up the photos of the bouquets you’ve made. Your arrangements are just as stunning as you–unique and artistic, vastly different from the boring, typically stuffy bouquets Warren used to buy you. He’s so proud of you.

Court admires each one, her sharp brows rising in approval. “Damn, these are really good.”

“Amazing, right?” Dieter proudly smiles.

“Exactly,” Court nods.

His heart swells with pride for you, for his Golden Girl.

—-

Maybe you should have driven to the flower shop for your first day at work. Your feet are killing you, your fingers smell of eucalyptus and roses, your back aches, your hair’s thrown into the messiest bun, and you’re pretty sure you can’t mend the sleeve of your cardigan that you nipped with a pair of shears, but you can’t remember the last time you felt this fulfilled.

Angela threw you right into the deep end, letting you take customer orders, process deliveries, and even trusted you to manage the shop alone for a couple of hours on only your first day.

One sore step after another, you slowly make your way up the winding hill back home. Your house comes into view, and your tired eyes blink with joy at the sight of it. The sooner you get home, the sooner you can talk to Dieter–after a long, hot shower to soothe your aching muscles, of course.

The shower does indeed soothe your muscles, and the lavender scent left on your skin from your body wash relaxes you as you throw on Dieter’s robe and head downstairs to figure out dinner.

The doorbell dings. Outside, a courier stands surrounded by dozens of balloons—purple, green, and gold ones mix with shiny red heart-shaped and large pink flower-shaped balloons, all swaying in the evening breeze. The young man’s face is almost completely obscured.

"Delivery," he announces, his voice strained as he tries to keep hold of what must be at least thirty balloons.

"I think you have the wrong house," you say, clutching Dieter's robe tight.

The courier checks his tablet. "No, this is the right address. Are you..." he reads your name from the screen.

"That's me," you say hesitantly.

"Then these are for you. And there's more."

“More?” you ask, stepping aside as he brings the giant balloon bouquet through your door.

You’re still standing mouth agape at the ridiculous amount of balloons when he returns with an enormous basket filled with your favorite British snacks, a bottle of gin, bath bombs and oils from Dieter’s hotel, and a stuffed Paddington Bear.

“One more thing,” the courier says as he runs back outside.

The courier returns with an envelope and a small box. You thank him, sign for the delivery, and close the door, standing amidst what looks like a carnival.

This is so ridiculous, you can’t help but laugh at how it’s so wholly Dieter.

You open the envelope, pulling out a handwritten note on stationary embossed with Mandarin Oriental Hotel at the top.

Sweets,

Congratulations on your first day at Bloom! I knew you’d be amazing.

Only 5 more days.

I hope you wear your gift tomorrow for me.

Love, D

You lift the lid of the small box to reveal a gold necklace nestled inside. Dangling from the delicate chain is a gold heart balloon pendant, engraved with a D on one side. It’s perfect. You quickly put it on, loving the feeling of having his initial hanging from your neck.

You’ve never had someone show you they care for you in such grandiose ways before; it’s a little absurd when you really think about it. The Oscar-winning actor Dieter Bravo is in love with you. But, you embrace the absurd and laughable, because right now, you feel like the most special person in the world.

You click the FaceTime button next to Dieter’s name. It takes a few rings, and a bit of guilt pangs against your happiness when you realize he was indeed sleeping–rather deeply, by the way Dieter’s eyes slowly flutter open, wincing at the brightness of his phone screen.

“Hi, baby,” he lowly rasps out, his voice heavy with sleep. He rubs a hand down his face as he rumbles out a yawn.

“Hi,” you smile, wishing you could feel the warmth of his bare chest. “Thank you for my surprise. It looks like a clown car exploded in here. I love everything.”

He hmphs out a small smile, his eyes slowly blinking awake. “Yeah?”

“Yes, especially my necklace,” you pan the phone down to show him.

“Did you open it?”

“Open it?” you ask, confused.

Dieter’s eyes light up as he sits up in bed. “The heart opens, baby.”

You fumble with the small pendant, using the FaceTime screen as a mirror, and find the tiny clasp on the side. It springs open to reveal a tiny photograph inside—you and Dieter on New Year’s Eve, right before he told you he loved you. Right before he changed your life.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, as tears spring to your eyes. “Dee, it’s perfect.”

“I had it custom made,” he proudly says. “You deserve it, baby. How was your first day of work?”

"My hands are all scratched up," you laugh, showing him your battle wounds. "And I think I ruined my favorite cardigan."

"War wounds from doing something you love," he says. "Sexy as hell.”

"I can't believe I'm a working woman now," you say, running your fingers along the heart pendant. "It feels good, Dee. Really good."

His sleepy smile widens as he shifts in bed. “I’m so proud of you. The pics you sent me, you have such a talent.”

“Thanks, Dee.”

You spy him trying to stifle a yawn. You know how busy he’s been and though you miss him more than anything, you know he’ll stay on the phone with you all night if you don’t let him sleep.

“You should go back to sleep. It’s really late there.”

"Mmm, but I miss you,” his words slur slightly with exhaustion. "Wanna hear about your day."

You watch his eyelids droop despite his efforts to stay awake. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow when you're actually conscious. Sleep, Dee."

"Fine," he sighs, nestling deeper into his pillow. "But only 'cause you told me to. Five more days, baby. Five more days until I’m home with you.”

“Five more days,” you echo, your heart beating faster at Dieter saying home. “I love you.”

"Love you more," he murmurs, his eyes already closed.

You end the call and sit amongst the bright sea of balloons, running your finger along the D engraved on the pendant around your neck. This is what love is supposed to feel like—supportive, joyful, and free. Not the constant walking on eggshells and proving that you’re a good wife that defined your years with Warren.

Only five more days until Dieter Bravo is back with you. 

✨✨✨

Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @forspringcleaning Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69 @readingiskeepingmegoing, @marissa47, @amyispxnk, @peepawispunk, @ishabull @vibin-hippie, @noisynightmarepoetry, @titlee78

[serenityluvz]

𝗘𝗻𝗵𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗙𝗮𝗻 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁

⋆𐙚₊˚ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸᴸᵘᵛᶻ

Heeseung – “Wait… This username looks familiar.”

Heeseung is scrolling through Twitter one night when he stumbles across a tweet that sounds a little too specific. "HEESEUNG BREATHING IS A RELIGION. I WILL PASS AWAY." – @luvseungie99

He tilts his head. Wait. He clicks on the account, scrolling through hundreds of posts dedicated to… him. The fan edits. The thirst tweets. The “Heeseung is my emotional support man” memes. And then he notices the way you always use the same emojis when texting him. His eyes widen. No way. "Y/N…?" The moment he shows you your own tweet, you scream, snatching his phone away. "DON’T LOOK AT THAT—" But it’s too late. Heeseung is already wheezing, gripping his stomach from laughing too hard. "So you really have a whole fan account dedicated to me?" he teases. You groan, hiding your face. "I HATE YOU."

"Nah," he grins, wrapping an arm around you. "You love me. You literally have a whole page about it."

Jay – “I KNEW IT.”

Jay suspected something was up when he saw you giggling over your phone. But he didn’t think much of it—until one day, he randomly clicks on a TikTok edit… and his face pops up. The caption? "POV: You're in love with Jay from Enhypen, and he doesn’t know you exist." The username? @jayzwife4ever

Jay chokes. His heart stops. The profile picture looks way too familiar. When he turns to you, his eyes are wide. "Baby… please tell me this isn’t your account." You freeze. "Haha… what? No way… that would be crazy, right?" Jay stares. You stare back. Silence. Then he lunges for your phone, and you scream, running away. "DON’T LOOK AT MY DRAFTS—"

Jake – “OMG YOU’RE MY MOOT??”

Jake follows you on his stan account. He’s been mutuals with you for months, interacting with your tweets about him without ever realizing you’re actually his girlfriend. Then one day, you’re chilling on the couch when you accidentally open your Twitter, and Jake sees it. Your username. The layout. The pinned tweet that says: "Jake Sim is my reason for breathing." His jaw drops. "WAIT A DAMN MINUTE." You blink. "What?"

"YOU’RE @simsmylife101??" Your soul leaves your body. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT—" Jake pulls out his phone, showing you his own account. The one that always replied to yours. The one that flirted with you as a fan. Your eyes widen. "YOU’RE @simspuppy??" Jake screams. You scream. And then you both die laughing.

Sunghoon – “I FEEL SO BETRAYED.”

Sunghoon is casually scrolling on TikTok when he finds a very familiar username. @hoonznumber1simp

The account is filled with edits of him. And the captions? "Sunghoon needs to stop being hot. It’s ruining my life."

"Imagine being married to Park Sunghoon. The power." His eyebrows furrow. The username looks… weirdly familiar. Then it hits him. "Y/N??" You freeze. He whips around, holding up his phone. "You’ve been fangirling over me in SECRET??" You try to run. He grabs you. "OH NO, YOU’RE NOT ESCAPING THIS—" For the next week, he does not let it go. "So when you called me ‘hot’ last night, was that you or @hoonznumber1simp talking?" You throw a pillow at him.

Jungwon – “I don’t know whether to be flattered or scared.”

Jungwon accidentally finds your fan account while searching for memes of himself. He stares at the screen, horrified as he reads your latest post. "If Jungwon ever looked me in the eyes, I’d simply pass away. No thoughts, just instant death." His ears turn red. Then he clicks on another post. "Jungwon could slap me with a fish, and I’d say thank you." …What. He slowly looks up at you. You’re sitting across from him, sipping your drink, completely unaware. "Y/N," he says carefully. You blink. "Yeah?" He holds up his phone, showing your own very unhinged tweet. "Do you… need help?" Your face turns bright red. "GIVE ME THAT—"

Sunoo – “LMAOOO, YOU’RE SO EMBARRASSING.”

Sunoo finds your fan account in the worst way possible. During a live broadcast. A comment pops up: "Sunoo, did you know Y/N has a fan account for you???" He pauses. "Huh? No way." He clicks on the username in the comments, finds the account, and screams. "WAIT—THIS IS Y/N’S??" The chat goes crazy. You, watching from your phone, scream in horror. Next thing you know, Sunoo is cackling, reading your posts out loud. "‘Sunoo could run me over with a truck, and I’d thank him’—Y/N, EXPLAIN??" You turn off your phone and hide under a blanket for a week.

Ni-ki – “I knew you were a fan, but DAMN.”

Ni-ki always suspected you were secretly a huge Enhypen fan before dating him, but he never had proof. Until one day, he snatches your phone and sees it. @nikify4ever

His eyes go wide. He scrolls through the posts, reading your very dramatic captions: "Ni-ki’s hands are so pretty. I want to hold them forever."

"Imagine marrying Nishimura Riki… I’d be the happiest person alive." His lips twitch. He slowly looks at you. "So… you’ve been down bad for me this whole time, huh?" You grab a pillow and scream into it. Ni-ki just grins. "Don’t worry, baby. Your secret’s safe with me… or is it?" And just like that, your entire relationship becomes one big teasing session.

[terramythos]

ended up main tanking a whole jeuno alliance raid and while I'm aware it's not significantly different than being a DPS except I have to hit some damage mitigation buttons and maybe position the boss it IS extremely funny to be public enemy #1 in a 24-man raid. All the big scary bosses hate me specifically and will do whatever they can to kill me. A cute min height bunny boy