#I just like the way I drew his smile though I’m not sure why I drew him so SQUAT-LIKE

[consceleratuswrites]

Reblogging this from the main fir the sake of refs (don’t judge me too hard)

Yeah M. Bison called, he wants his look back.

Finally got a chance for a quick sketch session so here!

God, I’m so obsessed with Galactic Emperor Sig, I don’t think I’ve been this hype about anything in a while. I will make something a bit better I promise (also still working on that print for the Het Universum piece I did two weeks ago now *wailing*)

[bloatedandalone04]

TikTok Trends

➪the one where drew is a little clueless in regards to your love for tiktok, and even more confused every time he finds himself thrown into another trend.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, drew being confused for 90% of this, mentions of smut, size difference, slightly younger reader (3 year age gap), there was going to be smut, but i am saving it for another fic.

Word Count: 3.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Drew was laying on the king sized bed he shared with you, his sweatpant covered legs crossed as he lounged back on both his pillows and one of yours. His phone was in one of his hands, his thumb scrolling through the latest game results he missed last night when he was too busy fucking you into this very bed. 

He was oblivious to the way you were rummaging around in the dresser, though his eyes would occasionally flicker over to you as he scrolled. Tonight was date night, and he knew you would take a lot longer to get ready than he would, so he was staying in his sweats and hoodie until you were ready since he’d just throw something on and then be out the door within the same minute. You were being awfully quiet, and Drew was also oblivious to the way you had propped your phone up behind a picture frame, just out of view.

Drew’s free hand ran through his hair, his recent haircut making his scalp feel a little itchy, but he wasn’t complaining, because this haircut was what had you begging him to fuck you every night this week, so clearly it was working for you. 

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone. “Where do you want to go tonight? Anywhere you want, I don’t care, I just want to know if I should call in beforehand.”

You bit your lip as you adjusted your phone, your eyes shining with mischief as you moved away from the dresser. “I’m not sure,” you answered as you walked into the closet and grabbed the dark blue dress you were planning on wearing tonight. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

You had to hide your smile as you walked back into the bedroom and set the dress down on the bed next to Drew’s legs, and you had to ignore just how sexy he looked right now as you glanced over at your phone. 

Drew had never been one to be very active on social media in the two years you’ve been with him, so you knew for a fact that he would have no clue what you were about to spring on him. 

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you bunched the material in your fingers before pausing, “Hey, baby,” you laughed, poking his knee as you swayed a bit on your feet. When Drew just let out a grunt, you continued, “Can you leave for a few minutes while I get dressed? I’ll be quick.”

You watched as Drew’s eyes flickered all over his phone’s screen before he hummed, moving to sit up. Just as his legs swung over the side of the bed, he seemed to have finally fully processed your words, because his eyes narrowed before he looked over at you. “Wait, what?” 

A laugh threatened to escape your mouth, but you managed to compose yourself before he could realize this was yet another trend he was currently being forced into. “Can you, like, get out for a sec? I need to get ready for tonight,” you asked again, gesturing to your shirt and sweats. 

One of his brows raised and he glanced down at your current outfit before looking over at your dress. “Uh, why?” he asked, sounding so genuinely confused, you almost cackled. “We live together, baby. I’ve seen you naked, like…a million times now.” 

You covered your mouth and crossed your arm over your chest as you tried to keep this going for as long as you could. “Just…please?”

Drew’s brows furrowed as he locked then set his phone down on the bed beside him, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, reaching for your hand. His voice was so deep but so sweet right now, you felt yourself caving in already. “Tell me, baby.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, but your voice sounded unconvincing even to you. “I just don’t want you in here while I get changed.”

Drew narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillows once again, clearly making no move to get up and leave. “Babe, come on,” he mumbled, giving you a pointed look as you tried to keep up the act for a little longer, but he was the actor, not you. “We’ve lived together for half a year now. I’ve seen you take off clothes in front of me more times than I can count. What’s so different now?”

You had a sneaking suspicion that he was catching on, and you knew the act was pretty much up. Still, you tried to go for a little longer, “There’s no difference…” you trailed off, then saw the look of realization flash in his pretty blue eyes. 

“Oh, I get it,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked up at you. “This is another TikTok thing, isn’t it?” 

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, but he had caught you. “No,”

Drew grunted and nodded his head, “Uh huh, where’s your phone?” he asked, glancing around the bedroom as you tried to think of a way to salvage your prank. 

“It’s not a TikTok thing-”

“Come on, where is it?” he cut you off, his tone light and relieved as he now knew that nothing was wrong and this was just him falling for another trend going around on an app he didn’t even have installed. 

With a huff, you nodded towards the dresser, and Drew shifted a bit so he could see your well-hidden phone behind the picture frame. 

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back again. “Why do I keep falling for these things?”

“Because you’re old and refuse to use social media,” you mumbled, reaching for your phone and ending the video. 

He scoffed from behind you, reaching over to wrap his hand around one of your thighs. “I’m only three years older than you, brat,” he muttered, pulling you towards him. “I’m not nearly old enough for you to call me that.” 

“Three and a half,” you hummed, your attention quickly slipping from your phone as you let him turn you around and pull you to stand in between his legs. Your free hand caressed his jaw, his stubble pricking your fingertips as you gazed down at him, “Can’t forget the half.”

Drew hummed, leaning in to press his face against the front of your shirt. “Mm, right,” he rasped, leaning back on the bed and pulling you with him so you are straddling his waist. “Can’t forget the half.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to his, both devices quickly being forgotten about as you braced your hands flat on the sheets on either side of his head, your lips finding his in a deep kiss that quickly turned into something a lot more heated. 

-

“You’re not doing it right,” you whined, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you walked towards your phone to restart the recording. 

After finding a trend that would actually involve Drew participating in it, you decided to give him a break from all the prank trends you pull on him and asked if he wanted to try this couple trend you saw all over your for you page. Surprisingly enough, he agreed to. You assumed he was probably tired of falling for the pranks all the time, so this way he could be fully aware of what was happening. 

With that being said, even though he was an amazing actor, he fucking sucked at following directions. 

“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” he asked, holding his arms out as he watched you set your phone back up against the TV stand. “I’m picking you up, am I not? Is that not what I’m supposed to do here?”

You rolled your eyes and bit back a laugh as you stood back up straight and moved towards him. “No, you’re supposed to flip me upside down,” you said, “Did you even watch the video I sent you?” 

“I watch all the videos you send me,” he mumbled, glancing over at your phone before stepping closer to you. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”

You grinned and moved to stand in front of him, and you reached behind you to take Drew’s wrists in your hands. “Just hold me here,” you instructed, placing his big hands on your hips as you both faced the camera. “Then lift me and turn me upside down.” 

“That’s it?” he asked, giving your hips a teasing squeeze as he dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. “What if I drop you?”

You look over your shoulder at him and raise your brow, “Well, don’t,”

Drew laughed, the deep sound rumbling against your back as you looked at your phone. “Alright, ready?” he asked, and you nodded. Drew bent his knees slightly, ensuring he had a good grip on you, before he straightened back up again and easily lifted you off the ground. 

That was the easy part though, but after a few seconds, he managed to turn you upside down so your legs were by his shoulders and your head was by his knees. “Yay, baby!” you squealed, holding onto his arms tightly as he dangled you above the floor. 

Drew let out another deep laugh as he held you securely in place, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. “Is this it?” 

“Yes,” you answer, helplessly swaying in his hold as you look at your phone from your upside down angle. “I hope it turned out well. I don’t want to do this again.”

“Why not?” Drew asked, locking his arms around your thighs as he swayed you even more, making another quiet squeal leave your lips. “Now that I know what to do, this is easy.” 

Your grip tightened on his arms as you held on for dear life, a soft whine escaping your mouth. “Drew,”

He laughed and stilled before managing to guide your legs down until you were upright again. “Alright,” he grinned, steadying you with his hands on your waist. “Are we good?”

You nodded and leaned into his touch for a few seconds before moving away to grab your phone. After ending the video, you clicked on it to make sure it came out okay, and as you did so, Drew came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“How’d it turn out?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he glanced down at your phone as well. 

“Good,” you answered, playing the video and watching with a dumb smile on your face as your boyfriend effortlessly picked you up and managed to do the trend rather successfully. Turning your head, you pressed a quick kiss to his chin, “Thank you.”

Drew hummed, kissing you properly as his hands splayed across your belly. “‘Course,” he mumbled, kissing you again before looking back down at your phone. “You look so small, baby. Send that to me.”

You grinned and nodded as he stepped away from you and towards the doorway. “You could see it on my TikTok if you actually had the app,” you pointed out as you sat down on the couch. 

“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder before giving you a teasing smirk and leaving the room. 

As you watched the video again and matched it up with the song it would go with, you bit down on your lip, because Drew looked really hot in it, and it was extremely obvious how fit and strong he is since he lifted you up with ease. 

You could only imagine all the comments you’d get, and all of them would be girls thirsting over your boyfriend. 

-

The ‘calling your boyfriend friend names’ prank was all that was currently on your for you page on your TikTok, and you knew after watching the first one that you were going to do it to Drew. 

Your poor, unsuspecting boy who was really never safe as long as you had access to the app, or any app for that matter, because he was just too easy.

Drew was laying back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he browsed through various movies on Netflix, his gaze fixated on the TV that was mounted on the wall above the dresser. 

He looked so focused as he tried to find something to watch, and you knew he was looking for something that you would like since you and he had very different tastes when it came to movies. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. 

Almost. 

“Dude, just pick a movie already,” you laughed from your spot on your side of the bed, discreetly angling your phone to capture his entire upper body without making it look obvious. 

Drew’s head turned in your direction, one of his brows raising as his thumb paused on the remote. “I’m trying to,” he muttered, squinting his eyes at you, “Dude.”

You held in your snort and shook your head, looking back up at the TV. “I don’t care what we watch, man,” you mumbled and felt him shift next to you, but you kept your eyes locked on the screen. “Just pick something.”

The remote was set down on the bed between your body and his, and when you glanced up at him, he was softly glaring at you, “I will, once you call me by my actual name instead of dude or man,” 

You actually laughed, but this one fit in well, “Okay, Drew,”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, moving towards you and dropping his head to your chest. He presses his face against your cleavage as you reach over and prop your phone up on the nightstand. “Call me what you always call me.”

You grinned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, buddy,” 

Drew’s head had never snapped up faster than it did when you said that. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, placing his hands flat against the bed on either side of your hips as he pushed himself back up so he was kneeling beside your still reclined form. “Baby, what’s going on?”

You pressed your lips together as you reached up and cradled his pretty face in your hands. “Nothing,” you answered, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 

Drew gave you a skeptical look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. His big hands found your hips as he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours, and you returned his kiss like you always do. “Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, and you knew your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing up from how deep and sexy his voice is. 

But you couldn’t think about that right now, and you realized you would have to edit that intense kiss out of the video so TikTok didn’t flag you, which would suck. “I’m sure,” you confirmed, then fucked with him further, “Everything’s all good, pal.”

Drew gave you a look of disbelief as he pulled away and sat back on his knees again. “Pal? Did you seriously just call me pal?” he gaped at you, his brows drawn together in confusion and something that looked a lot like betrayal. “Babe, what the fuck did I do? I know you’re mad at me, you keep calling me all these random names. Tell me what I did.”

You laughed and shook your head, pushing yourself up so you were sitting in front of him. “You didn’t do anything, Drew,” you assured him, but could tell that your words had very little effect on him. “I promise.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, moving back to his original spot on his side of the bed. “Then stop calling me dude or pal,” he muttered, picking the remote back up and lifting his arm so you could cuddle against his side. 

You actually did snort this time as you crawled over to him, “Okay, bro,” you mumbled as you slid under his arm, but as soon as the name left your lips, Drew was standing up from the bed and looking down at you with his hands on his hips. 

“Bro? Bro?” he echoed, “No, something is definitely wrong here. What is happening right now, Y/n? Are you breaking up with me or something?”

You let out a loud laugh as you rolled onto your side. “No,” you answered, shaking your head as you looked up at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, Drew. Why would I do that?”

He sounded a bit desperate now as he braced one knee on the edge of the bed and asked, “Then why are you calling me dude and bro and pal? You’ve never called me those names before,” he rambled, “That’s what you call a friend, baby, not your boyfriend.”

“I know,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked up at him, and after getting another look at his handsome, yet so obviously confused face, you caved. “That’s what the prank is, babe. I call you names I’d call a friend.”

Drew’s brows furrowed, then he was looking around the bed for your phone, and when he glanced at the nightstand, he let out a loud groan. “Oh for fucks sake,” he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face as you laughed and moved to retrieve your phone. “I thought we were breaking up or something. Why do I keep falling for this shit?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Guys are just so easy,” you answered, “And unless you cheat on me or something, I’m never breaking up with you.”

Drew dropped his hands to his sides as he joined you back on the bed. “And I’m never cheating on you,” he rasped, straddling your thighs as he placed his hands on your waist. “But how many more times are you going to do this to me? This one was fucked up.”

You laughed as you ended the recording, then gasped when you felt how hot his skin was. “Drew,” you say with wide eyes, “You’re, like…sweating.”

“I know I am,” he said, his fingers pushing up your shirt as his hands ran along the skin of your stomach. “I told you, I thought you were breaking up with me. I was panicking.” 

You smiled up at him, letting him take your phone from you and toss it onto the end of the bed. “I would never,” you promised, and Drew wrapped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your hands up to rest on his chest as he gazed down at you with an intense stare. 

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, and it was clear that the hunt for a movie to watch was now postponed. His eyes were even darker when he pulled away, his nose bumping gently against yours. “I love you.”

You whimpered quietly as you slid your hands up into his hair. “I love you too,” 

Then he was pressing himself against you completely, and soon enough, you were sweating too.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Guilty as sin ✦ 」

[Theodore Nott × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary:(Request) Theo x f!reader where she is a huuuuuge flirt. Flirts with the whole slytherin gang, the golden trio, literally everyone EXCEPT Theo and it doesn’t bother him until his friends start teasing him about it and then it drives him CRAZY. So he tracks her down and she’s all blushy like “idk how to flirt with someone I actually like??” And then smut ensues

Warning: smut

Words:3.5k

Laughter echoed through the empty corridor – a welcome reprieve from the usual bustle of Hogwarts life. We were on a glorious post-lunch break, a rare moment where none of us had classes.

Draco, ever the stoic one, smirked from the corner, a hint of amusement flickering in his grey eyes. Blaise, reclining against the wall along with mattheo and Enzo .

“So, what’s got you all so chipper today?” I asked, leaning against the wall opposite them, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, just the usual,” Mattheo replied with a grin, his eyes scanning me up and down. “Though your presence certainly brightens things up.”

I laughed, a playful glint in my eye. “Is that so, Mattheo? I’m flattered.”

“Flattered, are you?” Enzo chimed in, his smile broadening. “Just wait till you hear what Draco’s been saying about you.”

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile playing at his lips. “Don’t drag me into this, Enzo.”

I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what exactly has Draco been saying?”

Draco finally looked directly at me, his smirk deepening. “Nothing that wouldn’t make you blush, I’m sure.”

Suddenly, the air shimmered and Theo materialized beside me, a frown etched on his handsome face. My laughter died in my throat, replaced by a nervous flutter in my stomach.

Don't get me wrong, Theo was so attractive. Tall, dark, and mysterious, he exuded an aura that drew you in like a moth to a flame. That’s why I always act that awkward whenever he show up.

"Hey, Y/L/N," Theo greeted me, his voice a low rumble. "Having fun?"

But before I could respond, a mischievous glint sparked in Blaise's eyes. "Having fun? She's practically rolling on the floor here! Just look at her," he nudged me with his elbow, "completely smitten with my hilarious story."

My cheeks burned. "Oh, shut up, Zabini," I swatted him playfully. "It was Enzo's joke that was funny, not yours."

Enzo chuckled. "Thanks, Y/N."

We all fell into a comfortable banter again, the conversation flowing like a well-worn path. But with every witty remark aimed at me, every playful touch from Blaise or Enzo, I found myself subtly shifting away from Theo. It wasn't intentional, not really. Maybe a subconscious defense mechanism, a way to keep myself safe from the intensity I sensed in him.

Finally, unable to handle the mounting tension any longer, I blurted, "Oh, well, this has been lovely, but I actually have to…" My voice trailed off, searching for a believable excuse.

"Potions homework?" Blaise offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, yes," I stammered, "Look at the time! I completely forgot, I have to—"

"Go?" Mattheo finished my sentence with a playful grin, his eyes flickering between me and Theo. "That seems to be your usual line whenever Nott graces us with his presence."

A collective laugh went up from the others, but a blush crept up my cheeks. Was it that obvious?

"See, Theo? That's just how Y/N is. Always gotta disappear when you show up."

Behind me, I could hear the eruption of laughter. Draco's voice rang out, “See ? Always leaving when you appear Nott, gets the charm offensive."

I winced, a mixture of guilt washing over me, I grabbed my bag and walked away.

As I walked to the class the next day my stomach lurched, I scanned the room. Every single seat was taken except for one – the one directly next to Theo. A wave of annoyance washed over me. Why did I have to be the one stuck beside him after yesterday's awkward retreat?

With a resigned sigh, I marched towards the empty chair, determined to keep our interaction to a minimum. Just as I sat down, the classroom door slammed open, and Professor Snape strode in with his usual scowl.

"Settle down!" his baritone voice boomed. "Since we're already behind, we'll be starting immediately. Take out your textbooks and quills, we're brewing Veritaserum today."

My shoulders slumped. Of course, today would be the day Snape insisted on absolute honesty. Great.

I grabbed my textbook with a muttered curse, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating from beside me. Theo. He was practically close enough to see the worried frown etched on my forehead.

"Rough day, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine despite myself.

I kept my eyes glued to my textbook, pretending to be engrossed in the complicated brewing instructions. "Just fine," I mumbled, my voice a touch too high-pitched.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

My cheeks burned. Did he have to be so perceptive? "No," I lied unconvincingly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Then why the avoidance act?" he pressed.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I couldn't take it anymore. Taking a deep breath, I finally looked at him, ready to fire back with a witty retort.

But as our eyes met, something unexpected happened. All the bravado I had practiced in my head evaporated. His gaze held a depth I hadn't noticed before, a hint of something… more.

The stern voice of Professor Snape cut through the sudden tension. "Miss Y/N, Mr. Nott! Pay attention or face detention."

Flustered, I tore my gaze away from Theo.

The moment Professor Snape dismissed the class, I bolted. My cheeks still burned from Theo's teasing, his words replaying in my head like a broken record. "Do I make you nervous?" Ugh, the audacity!

Heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, I weaved through the throng of students, desperate to escape the classroom and the lingering scent of Theo's cologne.

As I rounded a corner, I slammed right into someone, the impact knocking the breath out of me. I stumbled back, muttering an apology.

"Easy there, love. Running from someone?"

My cheeks burned like someone had set them on fire with a dragon's breath. "No, no, of course not," I stammered, my voice tripping over itself. "Just... eager to get to my next class."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his grey eyes. "Really? Because you look like you just escaped a dragon attack in those robes."

"I-I really have to go," I mumbled again, yanking my arm free from Matteo's grasp.

Before he could say another word, I bolted. I sprinted down the hallway, robes billowing behind me, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me, Theo.

The thoughts I harbored about Theo, well, they were borderline scandalous – even for the often-unconventional wizarding world. Wet dreams were a daily torment, a vivid tapestry woven with stolen glances and the memory of his low chuckle. Even the most mundane tasks became infused with Theo. Daydreams, unwelcome and potent, hijacked my mind, filling it with images of his strong arms wrapped around me, the feel of his warm skin against mine, and those lips... oh Merlin, his lips. The very thought of them sent a jolt through me, leaving me breathless and yearning.

It was a full-blown obsession. Every interaction, every stolen glance, was a spark that ignited a wildfire within me. I envisioned stolen touches, whispered secrets, a clandestine world where it was just us. These "visions," as I'd begun calling them, were both exhilarating and terrifying. Had I lost my mind?

Looking at him was like staring into the sun – an act both beautiful and blinding. I craved his attention, yet recoiled from it in equal measure, afraid of what it might reveal – both about him and the depth of my own desires.

The moment I reached the solitude of my dorm room, I threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in the soft pillow. It was just me and the storm raging within. Seeking a semblance of control, I reached for my most trusted companion – my sketchbook. Flipping to a blank page, I did what had become a nightly ritual: I drew Theo.

His face materialized on the page with practiced ease – the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his eyebrows quirked slightly when he was amused, the intensity of his gaze that seemed to pierce right through me. Each stroke was infused with a longing so deep it ached. As I added the final details, a desperate thought crossed my mind – what if, somehow, magically, drawing him like this would bring him closer? A ridiculous notion, even for a witch like me. But a girl can dream, right?

The drawing complete, I flipped back through the pages, revisiting the countless iterations of Theo that filled my sketchbook. Each one a silent testament to my growing obsession. A pang of guilt stabbed at me as I traced the outline of his lips in one particular sketch. Here I was, feeling like I'd committed a sin, when in reality, our interactions hadn't even reached the stage of a stolen touch.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips. This was madness. Yet, as I drifted off to sleep that night, the sketchbook remained tucked under my pillow, a silent guardian of my unrequited affection.

The next day, the weight of my secret world pressed down on me like a lead blanket.

My usual bubbly demeanor was replaced by a forced smile and a dull ache in my chest. The boys exchanged worried glances, their questions a constant reminder of the truth I couldn't share.

Mumbling an unconvincing excuse about feeling unwell, I escaped the classroom the moment the bell rang, desperate for some fresh air and a moment of solitude.

Once I was finally away from everyone I grabbed my bag, then it happened, panic clawed at my throat as I realized my sketchbook was missing.

I scoured my bag again, desperately searching every compartment, but it was nowhere to be found. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I carried that sketchbook everywhere, afraid of someone stumbling upon my secret world.

Fear morphed into a cold dread as I retraced my steps, hoping it had simply fallen out of my bag somewhere.

The thought of someone, anyone, seeing my drawings, especially Theo… the very notion sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through me.

I retraced my steps, combing through the classroom once more, a desperate hope clinging to the edges of my despair. But it was futile. The sketchbook was nowhere to be found. My mind raced, picturing prying eyes and whispered secrets. This was a disaster.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the rising tide of panic. "Searching for something, Y/L/N?"

I spun around so fast I nearly toppled over, my eyes widening as they landed on Theo. A self-assured smirk played on his lips, and in his hand, he dangled my precious sketchbook.

"Theo!" I gasped, the sound strangled and desperate. My cheeks burned with a mixture of mortification and a strange, exhilarating thrill.

Instead of listening to my frantic plea, he held the sketchbook just out of reach, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "Such beautiful secrets you keep hidden, Love."

The blood drained from my face. "Give it back to me, Theodore," I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands.

He chuckled, a low, beautiful sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Not so fast, love. Perhaps there's something in here that warrants a little… negotiation."

Frustration bubbled up inside me. I lunged for the sketchbook, my fingers brushing against his hand. But he easily outmatched me, holding it high above my head. The height difference was agonizing.

"Give it back!" I hissed, my voice laced with desperation.

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn't decipher. Then, before I could react, his other hand shot out, landing firmly on my waist.

A gasp escaped my lips as a jolt of electricity shot through me at his touch. He used the momentum to pull me closer, turning us around so that my back slammed against the cool surface of the empty classroom door my eyes widened when he locked it. My breath hitched in my throat as his warm body pressed against mine.

His face was inches from mine, his breath tickling my ear. "Now," he murmured, his voice a husky rumble that sent a delicious shiver down my spine, "Care to explain what is it about?”

"No "I say "Just give it back!"

Instead of replying, he pulled away, placing the sketchbook on a nearby table with a soft thud. I made a move to grab it, but he was faster. With a single, smooth motion, he used one hand to capture both of mine, pinning them above my head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the door.

His touch sent a jolt through me, a current that both terrified and excited me. His gaze was intense, boring into mine, and suddenly his earlier amusement was replaced by something else entirely.

"So," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

"you just decided to ignore my entire existence? The social butterfly with all her friends, suddenly giving me the cold shoulder or vanishing into thin air whenever I'm around. Then I find out you've been drawing me… like a hundred times? Which by the way I'm not complaining about but— ," he added, "but seriously, Y/N, what have I done that you can't bear to stay in the same room with me for a minute?"

His words hit me like a physical blow. Shame burned through me, hot and fierce. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely a choked sob, my eyes desperately seeking the floor.

"Look at me, love," he commanded, a gentle firmness in his voice.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his. His face was unreadable, a mixture of concern and something else – something that made my heart skip a beat.

"Good girl," he murmured, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Now, say it. What have I done to make you hate me that much?"

"It's the opposite," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, fueled by a desperate need for him to understand. "I like you, Theo. A lot. Those feelings… they're so intense, so confusing, and I just don't know how to act around you. I see you and I freak out. I can't breathe, my heart races and then those unholy thoes…" My voice cracked, and tears welled up in my eyes.

He leaned closer, his hand brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice gentle, his touch sending sparks dancing across my skin. "Breathe."

I did, taking a shaky breath, closing my eyes as his face came closer. His touch was everywhere – on my cheek, my neck, his warm breath against my lips. "Are you mad?" I whispered, barely audible.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Quite the opposite," he murmured, his lips brushing mine with a feather-light touch. Then, in one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both electrifying and grounding.

His hands gripped my hips, lifting me off the floor effortlessly. I gasped as I looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire burning within them. "You smell so good," he murmured, his lips finding my neck. His stubble tickled my sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You know those thoughts you talked about," he continued, placing soft kisses along my jawline. "I have similar thoughts too."

I moaned as he sucked on my earlobe, my head falling back to give him more access. His lips moved down to my neck, his tongue tracing a path along my collarbone.

His hands tightened on my hips, and I could feel his erection pressing against me. I couldn't help but grind against him, feeling his length rub against my clit through our clothes.

"I want to leave marks on your skin, so everyone knows you're mine," Theo growled, his lips moving down to my neck. His tongue traced a path along my collarbone, and I shivered with delight.

"Yours?" I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, baby. Mine. And those fuckers need to know this," he said, I couldn't help but smile. I knew they had been teasing him for how I had been ignoring him.

His lips traced a path along my collarbone, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I shivered with delight as his hand gripped my hair, pulling me to him he looked at my eyes for a second then kissed me. His lips were soft and eager, and I couldn't help but respond.

He turned me around his head on my shoulder "Tell me your deepest fantasy. I'll make it a reality for you,"

His hands went inside my skirt, and I felt his fingers on my thighs. "Can I touch you?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, my breath hitching in my throat.

“ oh Merlin “ I say my whole body shaking his finger rubbing circles on my clit fast then slow making me losing my mind

“ not Merlin baby me say my name, do i make you feel good ? “ he say in my ear

“ yes Theo oh yes you do “ I say my body still shaking .

"Do you want me to be rough with you, or gentle?" He asked, his finger sliding inside me. I gasped, holding onto his arms for support.

"No one has touched you like this before, baby?" He asked. I shook my head, unable to trust myself to respond without screaming.

"Good, and no one else will," He said, his fingers moving inside me. I felt myself getting closer to the edge, my whole body tensing up.

"I love how you arch your back when I do this. You're so responsive," He said, his fingers moving faster inside me. I screamed, my whole body shaking with pleasure.

He put his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries "Shhh” He said, his voice soothing.

I felt it happening. My whole body shook, and if not for his strong arm around me, I would have fallen. I screamed with his hand still on my mouth. I came for the first time in my life, and oh lord, it felt like heaven.

"You did so good for me, baby. So good."

Put his fingers in his mouth, savoring my taste. "I love the way you taste, the way you smell. You're like a drug to me,".

He picked me up, setting me on the desk. pushed the books and papers aside, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he pulled me to the edge of the desk, his hands on my thighs.

"Is this like your fantasies?".

"No," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "It’s much better."

His lips were on my inner thighs in an instant, his tongue tracing a path up to my panties. He pulled them down, his fingers grazing my skin. My breath came in short gasps.

"Do you want me to use my fingers or my tongue? Or maybe both?"

His tongue found my clit, and I moaned as he licked and sucked, his fingers exploring my wet folds. I grabbed onto the edge of the desk, my legs shaking.

Theo pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. He reached for a pen on the desk, pulling it towards him. wrote "mine" on my inner thigh, his eyes locked on mine.

His fingers slid back inside me. I moaned again, my hips bucking against his hand.

His tongue found my clit once again , and I moaned louder this time. He sucked and licked, his fingers moving inside me in a steady rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building for the second time.

"Oh, Theo," I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.

He moved his fingers faster, his tongue lashing against my clit. I cried out as my orgasm crashed over me again.

He pulled away, making his way up to kiss me. I was shaking in his arms, but he wrapped them around me, making me feel safe and comfortable.

As I trembled in his arms, He held me close, his embrace warm and comforting. He gently brushed my hair away from my face, kissing my forehead tenderly.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice full of admiration and love.

I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The intensity of the moment began to fade, replaced by a soft, soothing calm. Theo's hands traced gentle circles on my back, his touch reassuring and tender.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.

I nodded, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "I'm more than okay. Thank you."

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Theo, I need to tell you something,” I said, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

He looked at me with those deep, caring eyes, waiting patiently.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I don’t mean to scare you with it now, but I’ve been holding it to myself for too long and I wanted you to know.”

A smile spread across his face, and he leaned in to kiss me softly, his lips curing my words. “You don’t have to anymore,” he said, his voice a soothing balm to my fears. He looked into my eyes, his expression sincere. “I love you, and I will prove it to you every single day.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, not of sadness, but of overwhelming relief and happiness. “Promise you won’t hurt me?” I asked, my voice small and vulnerable.

“Never, baby,” he said, pulling me closer. “I promise. I will never hurt you. I’ll always be here for you.”

I buried my face in his chest, letting his warmth and words envelop me, my gaze wandered to the ink on my thigh. The word "mine" stood out boldly, a possessive claim that made me giggle despite the seriousness of everything that had just happened.

Theo noticed and raised an eyebrow. "What’s so funny?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

I pointed to the makeshift tattoo. “This. ‘Mine.’ You really went all out, didn’t you?”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You bet I did. I had to make sure those fuckers know you’re off limits from now on.”

I laughed, “Oh, I’m sure they’ll get the message loud and clear.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[starkeyisthelastname]

pornstar!rafe who is a well known in the industry for being cocky, dirty as fuck and ruthless to any girl he shot a scene with. 👅

You were nervous, to say the least, as you sat in the chair, getting your makeup done for the scene you were shooting today. Being fairly new to the porn industry, getting booked to do a scene with one of the most popular male stars was a huge breakthrough for you. Your agent had told you not to watch any scenes with him, as she wanted everything with Rafe to be raw. You had heard rumors though that he was a big deal to work with, and was known for being ruthless to the girls he shot with.

You heard his voice, making your head turn from its spot as you saw him for the first time. He was tall, his frame massive as he towered over the director as they spoke. His side profile was beautiful with his head full of messy dirty blonde hair, a nose that looked like it would hit your clit perfectly, and a smile that made your heart race. Even in casual clothes, he looked amazing and the fact this man was going to rail you today had your nerves even higher than they were to begin with.

It was when his blue eyes met yours, wearing a smirk on his handsome face, did you quickly turn your head back to focus on the makeup artist that was starting to apply the glittery gloss to your pretty lips. You definitely were embarrassed you got caught staring at the Rafe Cameron, and hoped to god he didn’t say anything.

“Why you gettin shy for, huh?” His question, startling you as he now stood behind you. You looked up to see him in the reflection of the mirror, same cocky smirk plastered across his face. Something about his presence was extremely intimidating, but in a way where you felt your pussy throbbing. You weren’t sure if it was his striking blue eyes, his impressive height or the thick mustache above his upper lip, but you knew he was going to fuck your soul out.

The low chuckle from him, made you snap out of your thoughts as he gave the makeup artist a small smile before stepping closer. He leaned his head down, the feeling of his mustache now against your ear. “You wanna play shy? That’s fine. Just don’t think I’m gonna take it easy on your gorgeous little self. You have no idea who you are about to get fucked by.”

been thinking about this for a while 💖 but giving a thank you to @24kmar for saying this era of drew looks like a pornstar and my bae @starkeysprincess for her mood board she posted 😜 decided i had to give you guys this version of rafe.

[purinfelix]

FELLOW FRANCO LOVERS RISE!!

Ok I’m not good at making requests but I think it would be cute if one of the interviewers wears an Argentina jersey and Franco is blushing and yapping in the media pen (and then he posts about it a million times like his handshake w Lewis)

good journalism ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ - franco colapinto

a/n: YES FRANCO LOVERS JOIN MEE i honestly love writing fics for this flirty little shit pls send more requests like this one eee it was so cute w/c: 922

It's all for the sake of good journalism.

At least, that's what you kept telling yourself - and all the other interviewers who were questioning why you were sporting an Argentina kit to a race that was being held in Singapore. Watching, buried in a hoard of other photographers and journalists, the race drew to a close and suddenly the crowd around you sprung into action. As drivers started trickling in, with tired expressions - some happy, others not, you resigned yourself to waiting. It was pretty clear you were only here for one.

He spots you as soon as he enters the media area, even though you're concealed by about a dozen other people. You watch as his eyes light up at the sight of the familiar blue and white fabric and he beelines towards you, ignoring the sound of others calling his name.

"Hello," he says, breathlessly with a beaming smile - you chalk the flush in his cheeks up to having just finished a race.

"Hi!" you spring immediately into interview mode, listing off question after question about the race. He answers them all as earnestly as he can, and the entire time you're watching him with an awe-struck look. The clamour and sound of camera flashes around you are drowned out as the two of you talk, and before you realise it you've forgotten you're conducting an interview and not just having a conversation.

"Well that's all the questions I had prepared, good job out there today, you did amazing!" you say, fully aware that you're gushing at this point but you're relieved when he offers you an earnest smile.

"Nice shirt," he points out, and you realise suddenly how keen he is to keep talking. You laugh, a little shy at being so openly acknowledged.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"Who's on the back?" he asks curiously and you turn around to show him, "Ah, Lionel of course, a woman after my own heart." You chuckle softly as he places a hand over his chest. There's a beat of silence when you honestly think he's about to leave but then he leans in a little closer.

"Blue looks good on you, maybe a Williams shirt next time?" He says it so casually it takes you a while to take in what he's saying - and to realise how boldly he's flirting with you.

"Ah," you let out, though it's more of a gasp than words, "I'll have to talk to your merch department about that."

"I'll be waiting," he beams, giving you a sly little nod before disappearing back into his garage. It's only once he's gone do you realise how sore your cheeks are from smiling non-stop. Letting out a shaky breath, slightly overwhelmed by how well that interaction went, you turn around to snake your way back through the crowd. You try to avoid eye contact with anyone but the other camerapeople only smile at you knowingly, and you can only hope some of them got good enough photos for you to remember this moment by.

It's only once you get back to your hotel room and open up your phone do you realise just how many pictures had been taken of the two of you - and how many of them were far better than 'good enough'. In one the two of you are deep in conversation, your brows furrowed in a frankly un-flattering way, him as perfect as ever. In another, you're both laughing, about what you're not entirely sure, but just looking at the photo makes your heart flutter. Your favourite by far though, is one where you're looking down at your notebook trying desperately to remember the questions you had wanted to ask him. There's a childish pout at your lips that you cringe at - but what makes it your favourite is the look on Franco's face as he watches you, cheeks flushed as his lips curl subtly at the corners.

You don't seem to be alone in this opinion either - at least, that's what you've deduced from the half a dozen times Franco has posted it. Clicking through his stories, you're taken aback by the fact that he posted more about your interaction than him scoring points - the photo of the two of you even becomes the cover of his post dedicated to the weekend. Looking at the post you're not even bothered by the hundreds and hundreds of comments speculating what's going on between you two. Instead, your attention is captured by the caption he's added to it - "A race weekend to remember, for more reasons than one."

It's a little corny, and you let out a soft chuckle as you scroll through the rest of his page shamelessly, though you're sure not to like any of his posts for fear of letting on too much. The two of you spoke once, and if you're being completely honest you're a little embarrassed to still be thinking about him at this moment.

Just as you're about to set your phone down though, it chimes with. a notification that makes your eyes widen - a follow request from none other than the man of the hour. The rational part of you begins questioning how he managed to find your profile or the professional concerns of a journalist and driver following each other. These concerns however do little to slow you down as you race to hit accept because at that moment the only thing you can think about is one thing - that he's thinking of you too.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 12

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k

Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.

You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”

“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.

As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?

“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”

He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”

His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”

“So, it doesn’t upset you?”

“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.

“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”

“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”

You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.

Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. “How was lunch, dear?”

“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”

“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.

Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.

“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”

Just you.

“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”

“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.

“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.

“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”

“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.

“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”

You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.

“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”

Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.

You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”

You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”

The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?

“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”

If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.

“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. “That I don’t want anyone else?”

The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”

You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”

“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.

“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.

He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”

He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.”

You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”

You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.

The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.

With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.

You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.

“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”

You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.

You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.

“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”

Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”

“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”

“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.

“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.

Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.”

“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.

Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.

Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.

“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.

Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.

Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”

You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.

You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.

If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.

“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.

You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.

He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.

Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.

Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.

What was wrong with you?

You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”

“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”

“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”

“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.

Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.

You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”

“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”

“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?

“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.

But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?

“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”

“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”

“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”

You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.

“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.

He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”

You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.

“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”

You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.

So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.

[flickering-chandelier]

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.

Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷

Word Count: 3.8k

The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain. 

He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.

Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect. 

But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.

He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you. 

Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren. 

---

Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment. 

So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon. 

He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.

His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside. 

Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.

Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps. 

Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”

He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.

“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.

That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”

Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”

You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.

Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?” 

Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. 

You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.

---

The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing. 

He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer. 

You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river. 

The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.

Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.

Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?

Had he ever felt like this?

After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then. 

“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.

You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about. 

“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight. 

“Are you a painter?” he asked.

“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”

Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.

On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought. 

You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”

Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”

You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.” 

“Can I walk you home?”

Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air. 

It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”

Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”

You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”

Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”

---

Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet. 

Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet. 

He waited. And waited.

Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?

He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.” 

Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly. 

Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”

His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you. 

You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”

Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated. 

“Dancing,” you grinned.

“I can’t dance.” 

“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.” 

“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.

“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”

Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”

You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.

By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.

But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music. 

He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.

You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”

He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded. 

You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders. 

“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing. 

He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.

“There you go,” you grinned. 

Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again. 

He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his. 

Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there. 

Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his. 

He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air. 

Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red. 

“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight. 

“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face. 

The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his. 

For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.

At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.

---

Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow. 

Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.

But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.

He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.

So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.

There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.

Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway. 

The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”

Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”

He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”

Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”

The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.

“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”

He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.

You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.

“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”

There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.” 

You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”

Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”

“Jax.”

“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”

You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”

He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”

That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies. 

Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining. 

---

Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages. 

You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations. 

“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.

Jax nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints. 

You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting. 

Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him. 

By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel. 

You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”

“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.

Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jax was busy admiring his own painting. 

“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.

It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.

“Do you like it?” you said quietly. 

“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”

He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you. 

You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”

Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public. 

---

By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.

Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand. 

The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break. 

The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars. 

Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.

“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.

You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly. 

“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.

“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.

“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you. 

Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars. 

“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.

“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.

[theballadofharkness]

Agatha Harkness: Deserving of Love

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: Billy notices his mentors infatuation with the covens newest member and decides to set a plan in to motion to help convince Agatha that she is worthy of a love that won’t hurt her in the end.

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: I’m already thinking of planning a part 2 to this so let me know if you’re interested!

Agatha’s lair felt familiar and warm, with candles flickering softly, their scents mingling with the lingering remnants of the day’s spells. Around the table alongside you were Jen, Alice, Lilia, and Billy, all of you tossing ideas back and forth, their magic intertwined with webs of power and intention. But for Agatha, there was a separate focus.

You.

The younger green witch who had recently joined the coven, so sweet and soft, with an unassuming air about you. You were shy, maybe a little reserved, but there was something about you. Agatha couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it made her restless. You weren’t like the others. You weren’t brash or loud, didn’t command attention, but you drew it anyway. Your quiet strength, the way you spoke so calmly about your magic- it made Agatha want to tear down her own walls just to listen to you.

Agatha Harkness had never been the type to pine. At least, not openly. Not until you walked into the coven.

You, with your earthy, wild energy. Your deep connection to nature that you could barely contain. The scent of herbs clung to your skin, your green witchcraft so potent and raw that it left an undeniable mark in the air whenever you were nearby and Agatha couldn’t seem to look away.

She was afraid once she discovered you were a green witch that she’d touch you and think of her. Her last relationship with a green witch, or rather the green witch, had nearly broken her. But you weren’t Rio. While her energy smelt like the damp earth of a freshly dug grave site, you smelt like walking in a forest after a storm. Fresh. New. Creation. Something Agatha couldn't ignore.

She tried, though. She told herself it was ridiculous. There was a reason she hadn't let anyone get close in years. She had her heart broken once- twice, really- and that was enough. Right? Right.

But that didn’t explain the rush of heat that flared through her chest whenever Jen or Alice touched your shoulder or gave you a quick, casual hug. It didn’t explain the sharp pang of jealousy that twisted in her stomach when you smiled at Lilia, a laugh escaping your lips. And it sure as hell didn’t explain why she found herself lingering just a little longer than necessary when you passed by, her gaze following you like a moth to a flame.

It wasn’t like Agatha had forgotten how to flirt. Far from it. Hell her whole demeanour oozed seduction. But, seeing you in the coven- bright, new, so vibrant- had thrown her completely off balance.

“Agatha, you’re staring.” Billy’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. He was leaning against the doorframe of her basement lair, improved upon by the warmth that only a coven could bring to a witches sacred space, his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I am not,” Agatha snapped, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I’m simply observing.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, observing the hell out of her. You know, it’s kinda obvious.”

She scowled, but there was no denying the truth in his words. Agatha’s gaze had indeed been locked on you, her thoughts racing, wondering if you felt the same magnetic pull that she did.

“Do you have to be so loud?” Agatha hissed, though she didn’t pull her attention away from you. She couldn’t. “And what’s it to you?”

Billy grinned and walked over to her, plopping down onto a couch with his legs kicked out. “Look, Agatha, I’m gonna be real with you. You like her, she clearly likes you. What’s the problem?”

Agatha's face flushed, and she instinctively shifted uncomfortably. “Billy, it’s not that simple. There’s...my history. And-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “We all know the history. You had your heart broken by Wanda.” He sighed at the thought of his half mother, well aware of the effect she had had on his mentor. “Then we all saw your reunion with Rio on the road... But you’ve been alone for a long time. And I’m just saying- she’s into you. I see it. You have to see it too.”

Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose, sinking into the back of her chair. “I’m-”

"Scared?" Billy interrupted, leaning forward with a knowing look. "Yeah, I get it. But you deserve to be happy, Agatha. You deserve to have something good. Something real." He paused.

Agatha didn’t answer him immediately, her mind swirling. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to risk feeling that kind of hurt again. Not with someone as sweet as you.

Billy raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the shift. “Ask her out. Do something about it before someone else does.” Watching the way Agatha shifted uncomfortably, Billy knew he had struck a nerve.

The official start of the meeting began smoothly. Everyone was focused- well, everyone except Agatha. Her gaze kept drifting toward you as you took notes, occasionally glancing up at the others with that serene, gentle expression. You were so... soft. It made Agatha feel clumsy in comparison, like her usual sharpness and control were slipping through her fingers.

"Agatha?" Jen’s voice broke through her thoughts, and Agatha jerked her head up, startled. "You were saying?"

Agatha blinked, fumbling for her words. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out immediately. She cleared her throat. "Right," she said quickly, regaining her composure. "We need to prepare the sigils for the binding ritual. I want everyone to-"

Her hand accidentally nudged the wine glass in front of her, and in the next second, it tipped over, splashing red wine across the table with a loud shatter. Agatha froze, mortified. Her eyes darted to you, had you seen? Of course you had.

“Shit.” Agatha muttered, fumbling with a napkin to try and clean up the mess. The wine had spilled onto the table, and she couldn’t quite seem to stop herself from making everything worse. Her fingers shook slightly as she mopped up the mess, trying to salvage what little dignity she had left in front of the group.

“Don’t worry, Agatha. We’ll clean it up,” Alice said kindly, offering her help, though her smile held an undertone of amusement.

“Right,” Agatha said, straightening herself and doing her best to avoid looking too embarrassed. "I'll just…"

But she couldn't focus. Not with you sitting so close. Not with you watching.

The conversation resumed, but Agatha’s attention had splintered. She kept sneaking glances at you- soft, nervous glances that you never seemed to notice. You were so effortlessly beautiful in a way Agatha couldn’t quite understand. Everything you did seemed so... natural. And Agatha was starting to feel like she had forgotten how to act around someone like you.

As the meeting droned on, Agatha’s frustration grew. She couldn’t seem to find her rhythm, and every time she tried to assert herself, her voice faltered.

Finally, she’d had enough. She pushed herself away from the table, mumbling an excuse, and walked quickly to the kitchen, hoping to put some distance between herself and the group. Her heart was pounding, and her breath came in shallow bursts as she paced back and forth.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered under her breath. She’d been doing this for decades, for centuries. She was the strong one, the powerful one. But with you... she couldn’t seem to keep it together.

Just as she turned to grab a glass of water, Billy walked into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe, watching her with knowing eyes.

“Oh, for the love of—Billy, what do you want?” Agatha snapped, turning away from him to hide the flush creeping up her neck.

Billy smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stepping toward her. “I want to know how long it took for you to realize you’re in love with her.”

Agatha froze, her heart skipping a beat at the words. She whipped around, eyes wide. “I’m not—What? I’m not in love with her!” she hissed, voice too loud for her own comfort.

Billy raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by her outburst. "Oh please, Agatha. We all saw the wine glass fiasco." He grinned.

“I didn’t-” Agatha started, her words faltering as she tried to process what Billy was suggesting. That she could be thrown off her game so easily. “Billy, I’m not some hopeless romantic.” She turned away from him, pacing again. “And I’m certainly not interested in her of all people like that.”

Billy raised both hands, feigning innocence. “Okay, fine. Let’s pretend you’re not madly in love with her for a second. But seriously, Agatha- you deserve someone like her. After everything that happened with Rio... with Wanda- this could be good for you.”

Agatha’s heart clenched at the mention of Wanda’s name. It was always the same, wasn’t it? The people she loved either hurt her, or she hurt them. It never ended well. Never.

Billy’s face softened for a moment, his usual teasing expression replaced with something closer to understanding. “Agatha... You deserve love.” His voice was steady, sincere.

Agatha turned on him, frustration bubbling over. "I don't need your sympathy, Billy.” She pushed away from the counter, her fists clenched at her sides.

She stormed toward the door, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of the conversation. “Okay, party’s over, ladies,” she called over her shoulder, clearly ready to end the evening on her own terms. “We’re done for tonight.”

Billy sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Agatha retreat. He knew better than to argue further. If he pushed her too much, she’d shut down completely, and he didn’t want that. But deep down, he was convinced she needed this. She needed you.

And as the others filed out of the room, chatting among themselves, Billy caught one last glance at Agatha before she disappeared into the darkened hallway.

He wasn’t giving up on her. Not this time.

Maybe, just maybe, Agatha could find something real with you. Something normal.

And it would be exactly what she deserved.

~

The soft glow of candles flickered in Agatha’s cozy living room, casting warm shadows on the walls. Señor Scratchy nestled comfortably on her lap, his fur soft against her fingers as she absentmindedly stroked him while reading her book. A glass of red wine rested beside her on the coffee table, the rich aroma filling the room as she sipped it slowly, savoring the calming effect it had on her.

It had been a long day. A long week, really. The coven had been busier than usual, and Agatha had found herself torn between the duties of mentoring Billy and leading a new coven and the strange, unsettling feeling she kept having every time her gaze accidentally landed on you. But tonight? Tonight was hers.

No magic, no coven drama. Just her, her book, and a very soft bunny.

At least, that’s what she had planned.

The sharp sound of a knock at the door made Agatha groan inwardly, setting her book down with a sigh. "Who in the hell…?" She stood up, adjusting her robe and rolling her eyes. Of course, it had to be Billy.

She opened the door to find him standing there, grinning from ear to ear like he had just orchestrated the greatest scheme of his life.

"What are you doing here? Isn’t it a school night?" Agatha raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. Her posture was effortlessly domineering with a small flicker of suspicion darted in her eyes.

Billy gave her an exaggerated look of disbelief. "Really? That’s your greeting? No ‘Oh Billy, I’m so happy to see you,’ or ‘Come on in, help yourself to a snack!’"

“Very funny," Agatha muttered flatly, rolling her eyes. "I’d ask you to leave, but you’ll just let yourself back in anyway.”

And as expected, Billy simply stepped past her and into the living room, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. “Well, I have done it before.”

“Can I help you?” Agatha asked, sounding more exasperated than she really felt, though she could already sense something was off.

Billy didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked over to the kitchen counter, pulling a large container wrapped in aluminum foil out of his backpack. "My mom made lasagna," he said casually, setting it down on the counter. "I figured you’d need something to eat."

Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Billy, I'm perfectly capable of making dinner. I’m-"

Billy cut her off with a quick, almost theatrical sigh. "Relax, Agatha. It’s not just lasagna. It’s all part of my carefully orchestrated plan to fix your life, so you can stop brooding and move on." He grinned.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Agatha asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him suspiciously.

He smirked, tapping his fingers on the lasagna container. "Well, I told you it’s a carefully orchestrated plan. I also invited her over." He said it casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world to invite the woman she’d been unable to get out of her head for dinner without her knowledge.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, and her throat suddenly went dry. "Her?" Agatha croaked, and before Billy could say another word, Agatha turned her gaze to the door as if she were trying to mentally will it to stay shut.

“Yup. I invited her over,” Billy repeated, unphased by Agatha’s evident panic. “You know, Y/N? The new witch in the coven? The one who is really good with plants? That one.” He eyed her knowingly, his grin widening as he watched her freeze.

Agatha’s stomach dropped, and she was sure she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Her breath hitched slightly as her pulse quickened. “Billy… What did you do?”

“Nothing too crazy, I promise,” Billy said, hands up in mock surrender. “Just invited her for dinner. I thought a little lasagna, some wine, a casual date-just to help you two get to know each other better.”

"She’ll be here in just under an hour," Billy continued, not missing a beat as he walked over to the oven and started lighting her candles. "You might want to start, you know, getting ready." He looked down at her floral robe.

“Billy, I…” Agatha sputtered, her brain struggling to catch up. “This is ridiculous. I’m not ready for this. I can’t-" She faltered. "What were you thinking?"

Billy set dinner plates out on the table, his eyes serious now, the usual playful glint replaced with a more grounded expression. “You’re my mentor, Agatha. You mean a lot to me. But right now, you’re being stupid.”

Agatha’s chest tightened, and she snapped back, her voice sharp. “Pardon? I’m being stupid?”

Billy didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, unbothered by her sharpness. “Yeah. You’re running from something good. Something real. She obviously likes you back, Agatha. Don’t deny yourself happiness.”

Agatha’s eyes flicked to Senõr Scratchy and then back to Billy, her stomach tightening with unease. "I don’t do relationships. I don’t-" She paused, then scoffed, “I’ve never had a normal one.”

Billy’s face softened, and he sighed, crossing his arms. “I know about your history with Rio, and I know how hard things were with Wanda. But that’s over now, Agatha. You’re not that person anymore.” His voice grew quieter, more sincere. “You deserve a shot at real happiness. You deserve this.”

Agatha turned away, her back to him as she clenched her fists at her sides. The walls she’d built around herself were tall and strong, but inside, everything felt so much more fragile. She didn’t need this. She couldn’t do this. Not again. Not with someone like you.

“You’re not listening to me, Billy,” Agatha muttered, her voice thick with emotion. “There’s nothing normal about me. I don’t do love, not in the way you’re talking about. It doesn’t work. I just... I don’t-” She closed her eyes, the words choking her.

Billy moved closer to her, and for a moment, the room was still. "I’m listening, Agatha. And I’m telling you that you deserve better. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself. You’re worthy of being loved. I see it. I know you’ve been hurt. But this could be different. She’s different from... everything you’ve known before.”

Agatha turned to face him now, her eyes sharp, though the flicker of doubt in them betrayed her hardened exterior. “You don’t get it. I can’t... What if I hurt her?” Or worse, what if she hurts me? She thought sadly, the question hanging in the air, raw and heavy.

“Listen,” Billy continued, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone, “I know you’re scared. But trust me, you deserve to feel loved, Agatha. Please, don’t deny yourself that.”

Before Agatha started to shut down the conversation, she took one last glance toward the door and imagined you arriving. She could feel her pulse quicken, her stomach knotting with that familiar tension.

Maybe she did deserve this after all.

~

The evening air was crisp as you made your way up the cobbled path leading to Agatha's house. You felt your stomach flutter with nerves, your steps slow and hesitant despite the invitation.

Billy had mentioned that Agatha wanted to invite you over for a casual night at her house for a home cooked meal. Nothing formal. Low stakes. Yet, as you clutched the small bouquet of wildflowers you’d picked on the way, the nerves wouldn’t settle. You hadn’t been this unsure of yourself in a long time.

The door opened before you even had the chance to knock, and there she was- Agatha Harkness, standing in the frame with a glass of red wine in hand and a calm, practiced smile on her lips. Her sharp eyes softened when they met yours, though the slightest tension in her posture gave her away.

"Hello, Y/N," she said with a warm yet almost anxious tone. "Come in."

You hesitated at the threshold, suddenly self-conscious of the bouquet in your hands. You didn’t want to overdo it, but you also wanted to show that you cared. Still, standing there in the cool evening air, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, stepping inside.

Agatha closed the door behind you, her usual confidence slightly shaken in your presence. She motioned to the living room where candles flickered softly, casting their golden glow on the walls. The scent of Italian food filled the air, mingling with the earthy, calming smell of the herbs you’d noticed earlier. Everything was just... so Agatha- familiar, yet daunting.

“Billy said it was meant to be casual but I still wanted to bring you flowers,” you said quietly, trying to ease the tension. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous. It wasn’t like you didn’t know her. You’d spent time with the coven, worked spells together, and casually chatted with her about your shared craft. But this felt different.

Agatha gave a small, nervous smile, as she took the bouquet and put them in some water, “thank you that’s very thoughtful dear” She shifted awkwardly, suddenly unsure of herself in a way you hadn’t seen before. “I’m sorry about him… he only just told me he’d planned for us to… get to know each other properly.”

You blinked, the words slowly sinking in. “Wait, wait.” You looked at her, eyes wide, your heart sinking to your stomach. “You mean... this isn’t- this isn’t like a... date?” You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as your throat tightened. "Oh god, I’m so stupid."

Agatha’s jaw literally dropped. Her eyes widened as she stared at you, and for a split second, you thought she might laugh at the sheer notion of you thinking she’d date you. But instead, she froze, her face shifting from surprise to something that seemed... almost like disbelief.

“Wait... you thought this was a date?” she asked, her voice low, with a touch of amazement.

You shrank back, your face burning hotter. You mentally cursed yourself, wanting to disappear into the ground. “I-I mean... I don’t know, I just... Billy said you wanted to have dinner with me, and I-” You quickly stopped yourself, realizing you were making it worse. "I thought maybe... you were nervous about making the first move so he helped….” You trailed off, your words losing any semblance of clarity.

Agatha’s shock gave way to something else, something softer. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something, but she quickly recovered, clearing her throat. “Well...” Her voice, while still controlled, held a new warmth, and the tension in her posture started to ease. “I’m glad to hear you thought it was a date.”

You blinked up at her in confusion. “Wait, really?”

She gave you a quick, almost nervous smile, trying her best to remain composed. “Yes. In fact, I'm very glad you did.”

Your heart raced as the words finally began to sink in. Was there an actual chance for something between the two of you?

“I... uh,” you started, voice trembling slightly, “I didn’t know how to read it. I guess I’ve never really been great at... this kind of thing.”

Agatha’s eyes softened, her usual composure giving way to something far more vulnerable. “Me neither,” she admitted, and you could hear the faintest laugh in her voice. She ran a hand through her hair, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. “I’m not exactly... well, I don’t do this often either. But…” She hesitated for a moment before saying in a quieter voice, “But I’d like to. If you want to.”

You looked at her, a soft smile tugging at your lips as your nerves slowly melted away. You nodded, heart skipping a beat. “I... I’d like that.”

Agatha’s expression shifted again, and this time, it was a smile- a real one. A rare one that made your chest tighten with warmth. She took a slow step forward, offering a hand in invitation.

“Well, then, why don’t you come sit?” she said, her voice gentle but inviting. “Let’s have some dinner, and we can... talk. Really talk.”

You nodded, finally stepping past her, your heartbeat quickening again as you sat down on the couch next to Senõr Scratchy, stroking his fur. For once, the space between you didn’t feel so vast, so uncertain. Agatha, the powerful, untouchable Agatha, was here. And she was real.

And maybe, just maybe, there was something good waiting to blossom between the two of you after all.

Dinner, the candles, and the wine all suddenly seemed like the perfect setting for what was unfolding.

For once, it felt like maybe love had a chance to blossom for Agatha Harkness.

[pitchsidestories]

when grumpy met sunshine II Kika Nazareth x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2382

It was the first day of training after the summer vacation marking the start of pre-season. With the new players coming in on the one hand and on the other hand the familiar faces it almost felt like the beginning of a school year. Everyone was buzzing.  

One of the fresh signings approached you quickly once she recognized you, her face lit up with joy and excitement.

“Hi y/n, I love your playing style and can’t wait to play with you!”, Kika Nazareth greeted you. God how you hated that footballer and her stupid smile. Also how dare she is saying that after what happened a year ago.

“Uhu, sure. It seems like you forgot what you did during the Champions League group stage games.”, you answered coldly.

“Huh, what do you mean?”, the Portuguese woman frowned confused.

“Forget it.”, you waved it off and rushed off leaving a very bewildered Kika behind.

“Don’t take it personally she never forgets anything really. Come on you need to meet the rest of your new teammates.”, Mapi padded empathetically the shoulder of the young forward.

“But I don’t get it, Mapi. What did I ever do to her?”, the brunette asked the defender, while her brown eyes followed you across the room. S

he was genuinely excited to play with you, if you hadn’t stopped her so abruptly the Portuguese might have said even more. How Kika loved the way you looked and.. she should stop thinking any further you clearly were mad at her, but why?

“I don’t know.”, the older Spanish woman shrugged equally as clueless.

“Weird.”, the forward mumbled.

“Let’s go the others are so thrilled to see you.”, Mapi tried to cheer her up.

“Hey, everyone.”, Kika begun anew, beaming at the teammates. Hoping, no praying, she wouldn’t cause a reaction like yours earlier. The dark haired forward didn’t want to ruin the first day at the new club anymore.

“Hi, welcome to the club.”, Claudia replied grinning.

“And thanks to special agent Aitana for this transfer who sadly can’t be here right now.”, Mapi continued, trying to soothe the fresh signing. It worked Kika did feel more relaxed in front of them.

“Guys calm down she still hasn’t proven herself in the team.”, you commented rolling your eyes, suddenly appearing next to Ingrid.

“I’m aware of how good this team is. But I’m sure I can help.”, the Portuguese swallowed hard, trying to sound as optimistic as possible.

“We’ll see about that.”, you shot back.

“Don’t worry you’ll.”, she promised. The football player was waiting for a response but once more you vanished without a trace. What a strange behaviour Kika thought to herself.

Thankfully Ellie delivered a much-needed distraction.

 “Kika? Ewa and I wanted to ask you if you’d join us for a coffee sometime soon? As we’re all new to the city.”  

“Yes, sure, I’d love that.”, she nodded happily.

Ellie beamed: “Wonderful.“

“Can’t wait.“, Kika smiled back at the young goalie.

Once again, you rolled your eyes and turned away from them to focus on your warm up.

You were one of the last to leave the pitch two hours later, thinking that you would have the dressing room for yourself. You did not expect Ingrid and Mapi waiting for you there.

“So?“, Ingrid said with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

You didn’t want to talk about your new team member so you decided to play along: “So what?“

With a half smile she finally formulated a question: “Why are you pouting?“

“I’m not pouting. Just annoyed by that smiley…“, you stopped yourself. You couldn’t come up with the right word for her anyway.

Mapi shook her head: “You’re not annoyed.“

At this point, you were starting to get annoyed with these two as well.

“Yes, I am. We didn’t need her in our team.“

“That’s not our decision though.“, Mapi shrugged.

You were about to say something but Ingrid was faster: “Y/n?“

You turned to her: “Yes?“

“Tell us why you’re mad at her.“

You heaved a frustrated sigh. They were worse than your parents.

“Remember when we drew against Benfica in Lisbon?“

Both of them nodded. Of course they would remember last years UWCL games. “Yeah?“

“What happened there? Why can’t you move on from it?“, Mapi asked.

Her girlfriend added: “Come on. It can’t be that bad. You can tell us.“

They looked at you with those soft eyes, all parent-like. Almost like your team psychologist.

The sudden urge to tell them disappeared completely so you just shrugged and grabbed your bag: “Whatever.“

You could feel their eyes on you as you left the dressing room, still in your workout clothes.

Ingrid looked at her incredulously: “Well, that was strange, Mapi.“

“Very.“, she agreed slowly.

As you went back to your own place, Kika and the other new players sipped on their coffees at a tiny little coffee shop.

“No, I’ll win her over with my charm, Ellie.“, Kika announced confidently. Even they had noticed the awkward tension between the two of you.

The English goalkeeper nodded slowly: “Sure you will, Kika.“

“Anyone wants some cake with their coffee?“, Ewa changed the topic. She had been eyeing the tasty looking sweet treats on display right from the start.

The Portuguese striker nodded: “Of course.“

“Can’t say no, they look delicious.“, Ellie laughed.

“We have to celebrate. It’s our first coffee date in our new home.“, Kika laughed.

Ewa stood up and agreed: “We do.“

She quickly returned with three different slices of cake so all of them could try.

“Knowing we play for such a prestigious club now feels great, right?“, she said as she sat the plates down on the table.

“This feels like a dream come true.”, the goalkeeper agreed with a dreamy look in her blue eyes.

It has always been something the blonde fantasized about since she was a little girl, playing for that club and now the fantasy turned into reality which she was forever grateful for.

When Ellie continued, she sounded serious. “Especially after the last year that I had.” The other two women knew about the stroke the English player had suffered.

That was why Kika pulled her into a soft hug whispering into the ear. You deserve to be here so much, Ellie.”

“Thanks. I’m happy that I got to start with you two.”, the goalkeeper smiled at her new teammates.

“Same. I’ve a feeling this will be a fantastic first season for us.”, Ewa replied enthusiastically.

“And we got each other if it’s getting hard.”, the Portuguese striker added.

“Yes, plus I’m sure even grumpy will like you eventually, Kika.”, Ellie remarked.

Immediately the smile vanished from the brunette’s face. “Not so sure about this. Apparently, I must have done something to her during our UWCL match last season.”

“But you don’t remember?”, Ewa questioned curiously. Quickly Kika shook her head.

“No.”

Although she tried her hardest to think what the striker could have done which made you hate her so much. Usually everyone warmed up under Kikas positive radiance, but you were her first exception, following her into her dreams.

In training Kika and you were much to your dismay supposed to be partners.

“Kika, I think Ill swap with Esmee.”, you declared.

“You can’t swap training partners.”, Mapi interjected in a tone which didn’t allow any dissent.

“Fine.”, you groaned. Even though you had played a few years in the first squad of Barca now aged 21 the defender was still like the big sister you never had, and you didn’t want to disappoint her. Even if it meant you needed to work with the person you disliked.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.”, Kika observed, wearing a huge smile on her lips.

“Yes, with the one who showed me the middle finger last year.”, you muttered under her breath. Unfortunately, it was still loud enough for the striker to understand the words you were saying.

“I never did that!”, she objected loudly.

“Yes, you did.”, you responded.

“No way, I’d never do that.”, Kika insisted.

“And when you said something about the way I played.”, your voice trembled.

“That’s not true.”, the striker denied strongly.

“What’s true?”, you wanted to know.

“Nothing of what you think happened is true!”, she stated passionately.

Hearing her statement made your heart pound hard against your chest. “Are you saying that this is all a huge misunderstanding?”

Obviously!“, Kika said with emphasis and the slightest undertone of anger.

“Oh.“

You didn’t know what else to say. Was she telling the truth? Did it really only look like it at the pitch? Was it a gesture to you or her own teammate?

All the Champions League games seemed to blur together in front of your inner eye. Now you weren’t sure anymore.

“Wait… so you don’t hate me because I’m here and could potentially take your place in the starting squad?“, Kika asked.

You frowned at her: “No, we play two different positions. So why should I be afraid of that?“

“Because I know that you like to push forward too.“, she explained.

You stalled once again. You found it impressive that she had already analyzed your playing style.

You shook your head: “Yes. But I don’t hate your for that. I’m used to tough competition, Barca is my childhood club.“

“Okay… wow.“

“What?“

Kika started laughing: “I really thought you hated me because you had a good reason.“

At first you just glared at her for making fun of you but her laugh was incredibly infectious and you suddenly found yourself laughing with her.

“Stop laughing. This is a good reason!“, you told her as you playfully hit her arm.

“That’s not a good reason.“

“Come on. Focus on your exercise.“, you reminded her, still smiling.

Kika raised her hands defensively and grinned: “Okay, okay. Can’t make you mad at me again.“

“No. Also I have to maintain my grumpy status.“, you replied and tried your best to keep your face serious again.

Kika giggled: “Sorry, of course.“

“Good.“

“Don’t worry. I think I can handle your grumpiness.“

You squinted at her: “Might need some sunglasses to deal with your sunshiny attitude.“

“I know you love it.“, she winked at you. She really dared to wink at you!

You shook your head: “No, you’re still the most annoying person around here.“

“You don’t mean that.“

She was right. You didn’t.

Still, you continued to tease: “Are you sure?“

She flashed you a confident smile: “Yes.“

“Dream on.“

Kika shrugged casually and focused back on your partner exercise: “If you say so, y/n.“

After your talk, you didn’t feel that intense anger towards Kika anymore. Everything was a bit lighter once the misunderstanding was cleared up. It went even so far that you didn’t react with pure disgust when she asked you to room together at your first pre-season match against Hoffenheim.

“Can’t believe we’ve to share a room, Kika.“, you joked as you sat on one of the beds.

Kika threw herself onto the other one: “Quit complaining, you grump.“

You shrugged with amusement: “At least it’s just for one night.“

The Portuguese striker smiled: “You will survive. I’m a quiet sleeper.“

After you both changed into your pyjamas and brushed your teeth you happily let your head fall on to the soft pillow.

“Good night, Kika.”, you mumbled.

“Night y/n.”, the striker hummed.

Yet something was off, the heat in that southern part of Germany still hung in the room, plus Kika hasn’t stopped moving in her bed. 

“Can’t you sleep?”, you asked her with a heavy sigh.

“No, what about you?”, she returned the question, directing her gaze straight at you.

“Me neither.”, you admitted. There was some restlessness and tension between the two of you, it was almost unbearable.

“Do you want to talk?”, Kika offered kindly.

“Sure.”, you agreed softly.

“So, what keeps you up?”, the Portuguese wanted to know.

Even though the moonlight enhanced her features and made you think thoughts again you tried to avoid you started with a less heavy confession.

“The adrenaline of the win. I think I’ll never get tired of that feeling, what about you?”

You waited for her response, did you imagine it or did her cheeks turn red, it was hard to tell in the dark.

“Oh, yeah, I get that. I love it too. But there’s something else that keeps me awake.”, the brunette replied nervously.

“There’s? Are you missing Portugal?”, you listened up.

“A bit yes, but that’s not it. This might be a bad start for the new season, but there’s someone in this team that I think I’ve a crush on.”, Kika confessed.

“You do?”, you answered stunned.

“Yeah.”

For a moment you paused before the realization hit you hard.

“Wait, it’s me, right?”

“It’s yes.”, she confirmed quietly.

“That’s too bad because I.”, you begun.

“Oh, you don’t have to say anything, I get that. I didn’t want to ruin anything.”, the striker interrupted you quickly.

“No stop talking for a moment.”, you begged her, placing a finger of yours onto her lips. God, that woman really loved to talk, even though now the time clearly was for listening as you tried to demonstrate to her.

“I fell too.”, you added in a whisper.

“You did? Am I not way too annoying for you.”, Kika frowned.

“Yes, you’re and yet I’d like to kiss your mouth who loves to annoy me with it’s yapping.”, you grinned.

“You should give it a try maybe.”, she smirked.

“Maybe you can sleep better afterwards.”, you suggested playfully.

“Maybe we both can.”, your teammate wiggled her eyebrows.

“I’m sure of it.” First the kiss was cautiously before it was getting more intensely until you heard the door open loudly.

“Oh my god!”, Mapi yelled.

“Mapi, get out!”, you shrieked.

“I didn’t see anything. Promise!”, the defender gesticulated wildly. With that said she was gone as quick as the older woman came.

“This news will run like a wildfire, right?”, Kika chuckled.

“Yes, by tomorrow morning everyone knows.”, you groaned as she pulled you into a hug.

“I don’t mind that. They can know that grumpy and sunshine always belong together.”, she announced solemnly placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

[cheriecoke]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ REASSURANCE — nanami kento

kento comforts you when you're feeling down

contents: gn!reader, insecurities, pet names, this was written in like 30 mins so idk, 700 words, sfw

“kento?” you asked, resting your hands on your lap. from the other side of the couch, he turned, smiling softly, placing his thumbs between the pages of the book to save his spot. your head was buried in the cushion, and you stared at him, blinking slowly. “you still love me, right?”

at first, he laughed, a small little sound that left his throat. then, when your face fell further, he cut himself off immediately, eyebrows drawing together tightly. “of course, i love you, sweetheart. i love you so much. why are you asking me?”

you shrugged, embarrassed, and looked away from him, at your hands locked together. “sometimes i just don’t know why. it makes more sense that you wouldn’t love me than that you do.”

a heavy frown drew on kento’s face, and inched closer, reaching out. “what do you mean? did i do something that made you feel unloved? if i did, honey, i’m sorry—”

which only served to make you feel worse, because, most things weren’t ever kento’s fault. he was so patient and caring, the sweetest man you’d ever known. and you weren’t sure that you deserved that kind of love at all.

“of course not, kento, you’re perfect.”

he smiled a bit, then, but that didn’t erase the concern in his eyes. “i’m certainly anything but perfect.” his fingertips ran along the back of your own, softly. “tell me what’s wrong, my love. i don’t like seeing you upset.”

you sniffed, willing the tears away as you looked past him once more, unable to meet his gentle eyes. “it’s stupid.”

“don’t say that. nothing you feel is ever stupid.”

and when a tear fell down your cheek at the kind words, you wiped it away before kento could see it, scrubbing violently at your skin.

“i’m fine, kento.”

“you’re not.” he paused, softened his voice. “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. i won’t make you. but don’t keep it all bottled up just because you think you’re being silly. okay?”

you glanced over, blinked, stared at the way his smile was slightly tilted. the plumpness of his lips, the gentleness of his eyes. his soft, blond hair falling over his forehead, because it was sunday night, and he hadn’t bothered to style it.

how dearly you loved him. you’d rather die than live a life without him.

a sob broke loose from you, and you covered your face with your hands, sniffling. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”

kento said nothing, but drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap. tears fell down your cheeks, and though you didn’t want to look at him, he drew your lips to his own, the touch barely there, before he kissed across your cheeks, your forehead.

“why are you sorry?”

“i didn’t mean to cry. i’m being so dumb. and sensitive.”

“honey,” he sighed, stroking your cheeks, eyes almost pained from the sight of you so upset. “it’s okay. don’t apologize for crying. i love you. i love you, i love you.”

you breathed deeply, trying not to cry harder, hating how difficult it was for you to accept him irrevocable affections, sometimes. “but why? why would you choose me, kento? i don’t think i’m an easy person to love. i’m so… boring, and average, and you are amazing in every way.” you squeezed his hand, still resting on your cheeks, and leaned into it.

kento stared, forehead wrinkling, before he pushed you down to his chest, holding you close. a long inhale breathed deep into his body. “you aren’t any of those things, you know? you’re so lovable. you’re beautiful, caring, intelligent. anything but boring. anything but average.” he ran his fingers up the knots of your spine. “perhaps, i was put on this earth to prove you otherwise.”

you gave him a sad little smile. “you might be working on that for a while, ken.”

"that's okay." he laughed, soft, gently, enough to shake you against his chest before he kissed the top of your head. “that’s what love is, isn’t it? i'm not going to leave when things get tough.”

[inmyheaddd]

wake up call - rafe cameron x reader

summary: pranking soft/tired!rafe after a party, by spewing absolute nonsense warnings: maybee slightly ooc rafe?? nothing really wc: 481 a/n: not too sure why i wrote this, i never write for obx 🤔🤔 i think its the drew starkey edits getting to me

“rafe,” you patted his shoulder, “raaaafe,” he didn’t respond to you, only groaning as he turned in his sleep.

it was nearing 3 am now, and you had just gotten back from some party. you had been so exhausted just 30 minutes ago in the car as rafe drove you home, but now sleep seemed to be the last thing on your mind. rafe on the other hand, fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. 

after scrolling on your phone for a little while and seeing a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend, you decided it would be a good idea to do the same to the brunette who was dead asleep next to you.

“it’s super important,” you tapped his shoulder, “rafe. quick, wake up.” you lightly shook his arm as he mumbled incoherently, then turned away from you. 

“rafe, it’s an emergency. the beach broke, i need you to fix it for me.” you added, your voice so full of worry that it made rafe stir around again, this time to face you, with his eyes still closed. “…what?” he muttered as he scrunched his face up in confusion.

“you have to fix it, rafe.” you bit your bottom lip, almost shaking with the laughter you were holding in.

“alright, alright. i’ll do it tomorrow, yeah?” he grumbled as he patted his arm around mindlessly, trying to find you.

“you better, it’s really important.” you thanked god that he couldn’t see the wide smile on your face, contrasting to the dead serious, worried hint your voice took on.

“also, can you buy mars for me?” you almost broke out laughing right then and there at the blabber you were coming up with. “i’ve had my eye on it for a while, y’know? i think it would match that red top i have really well.” 

“sure, whatever you want.” he mumbled languidly as he tried to pulled you closer to him, before his face scrunched up in confusion. 

“baby,” he said, “what the fuck are you talkin’ about?” he blinked his eyes open at you, his eyebrows knitted together. “are you high?”

“nooo, oh my god.” your giggles broke out as you threw your head back, “it was a prank! i’m sorry.” you didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, still laughing uncontrollably at your boyfriends confused, and likely annoyed expression.

he tutted, briefly shaking his head and turning it to the side. you weren’t too sure if you were imagining the tiniest of smiles on his lips or not. “don’t play that stupid shit on me, go back to sleep.” 

your laughter began to fade as he adjusted his position and turned you around, pulling your back flush against his front and wrapping his arms around you. 

“you’re no fun.” you muttered, nonetheless with a smile on your face.

“yeah, i know, baby.” you felt the ghost his lips on your neck, “talking about buying mars and fixing the beach. get some sleep.” 

now, you could practically feel the way his lips turned up on your skin. that was a huge win in your book. 

debating your choices, you wanted to see if you could push his buttons just once more.

“…rafe?”

a sleepy hum.

“if you could though, would you get me mars?”

silence. 

you figured he was asleep, so you took the loss and closed your eyes, but then he finally spoke:

“how much did you fucking drink?”

another a/n: this is a rafe version of the “half asleep” grayson hawthorne fic that i wrote!! (sorry guys im incapable of coming up w something new rn…)

[breadbrobin]

lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

[crunchystarz]

"Different"

Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

Summary: Ramshackle's perfect seems to catch Malleus's eye but he can't seem to place his finger on why exactly they're so special.

Cw- reader is yuu, Malleus is obvious to his own feelings,Fluff , oneshot

Word count: 984

A/N: again my reqs and asks are open so if you enjoy my work don't be afraid to flood my inbox (I need the ideasヾ⁠(⁠*⁠’⁠Ｏ⁠’⁠*⁠)⁠/)

Malleus really couldn't understand what about you drew him in. He just couldn't think of a logical answer for why you'd occupy his thoughts even if you weren't even there. Or why he got so eager whenever it was time for the class you two shared.

You were different. You didn't try to avoid him like the plague. You never went out of your way to be overly formal with him. You were well. You.

You acted like he was just any other student, not caring of his title and reputation. You'd actually go out of your way to talk to him.

You never wanted anything out of him, just his time, nothing more. It made him happy. That you would be the one to seek him out. The dragon felt like you were a real friend.

Yet that still wasn't enough for the fae. Malleus still didn't understand why you were just so special enough for him to react to you so differently from everyone else.

He didn't know why his face would burn whenever you'd comment on his magic, or when you'd compliment him on the smallest of things.

He tried to chalk it up to him being happy that you actually liked those things and not just saying it to butter him up but that couldn't be the case.

Because soon he started seeking out your praise as well as wanting to impress you. Doing things extra whenever you were watching just for the chance you'd notice(and admittedly compliment him).

Malleus also couldn't understand why his heart would beat so incredibly fast when you'd smile. Whenever you'd smile it was like a ray of sunshine he could bathe in.

He absolutely loved it. He just couldn't understand why. Wh-

"Mal?" You spoke, looking up at the taller figure. You looked concerned before smiling at his startled expression.

"You were so out of it" You couldn't help but giggle. Your laugh was like heavenly music to his ears. The housewarden cleared his throat

"Sorry about that dear [Name], I was just... thinking" The raven hair finally responded. He tried to calm the way his heart raced when you called out to him.

“Are you sure you're good ? you're all red in the face, I hope you're not sick or anything” you said now a bit concerned. It was just like you to pick up on the blush that was now spreading across his face and ears like a wildfire.

Your eyes narrowed playfully, your grin widening. “So what were you thinking about then, you were so out of it you didn't even comment on my story on how cute grim was actually earlier!”

"I... I’m fine," Malleus finally managed, though his voice came out softer than he intended. Clearing his throat once again, he tried to regain some semblance of composure, though his heart pounded furiously against his chest like crazy.

He opened his mouth to answer, but his mind betrayed him. He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular—just you. The way your smile lit up your entire face, the way you spoke to him like he wasn’t someone to be feared or avoided but just... Malleus. Any other student.

"Reflecting," he said at last, though the word felt hollow compared to the complete truth. "On various matters.

You didn’t seem convinced, and the way your lips curled into a knowing smirk made his pulse quicken.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Oh really” you quizzed dramatically raising an eyebrow.

"I-I assure you, [Name], I was merely lost in thought nothing more" he stammered, trying so hard to seem unbothered . But his voice faltered, betraying his calm facade.

"Lost in thought, huh?" you mused, leaning forward a bit, your gaze softening slightly at how flustered Malleus had become.

"I’m sure there’s more to it than that. You always seem so... distracted whenever I talk to you. It’s honestly really cute."

"C-Cute?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t... think I would describe myself as such."

The compliment struck him harder than he liked to admit. His face flushed an even deeper shade of red, and he hastily looked away, it was hard to try and stop the smile tugging at his lips.

It was quite the sight to see.

"Well you don't have to think so," you replied with a wink, your teasing tone shifting into something more genuine ."But “ you continued, moving out of the raven hair’s space a bit.

“I do think it suits you, Mal."

Malleus’ heart thudded loudly in his chest as your words hit him like a truck. He loved any form of praise from you but for the fae this was too much.

His mind was reeling, the words spinning in his head as they tried to make sense of the feelings coursing through him. You thought he was cute. You thought he, Malleus Draconia—was cute. It was something he had never considered before, and yet here you were, saying it so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well ..thank you child of man” The housewarden mumbled just enough for you to hear. You smiled and nodded at him.

He really couldn't understand why he felt this way about you. What made this human so special? He couldn't understand, perhaps he'd maybe end up asking Lilia about it.

“Well I should head back to my dorm before Grim manages to rip it to shreds…more than it already is” You chuckled at your own comment.

“Yes it is getting rather late into the afternoon… I suppose this is goodbye for now “ He spoke. It always pained him when you eventually had to part ways.

“Good night Mal!” You waved him goodbye before walking off Into the direction of ramshackle dorm.

“Goodnight…”

Malleus didn't understand his feelings. But he did understand one thing. He didn't want the feeling to ever go away.

MASTERLIST

[mreowsu]

quick reflexes / itoshi sae x gn!reader

it was a peaceful mid-evening in madrid, and you were walking home with sae after one of his late practice sessions. the sun hung low in the sky, spilling golden streaks over the cobbled streets. the faint buzz of life filled the air—distant laughter from open cafés, the hiss of espresso machines, and the soft echo of a passing bicycle bell.

sae walked with his bag slung over his shoulder, a little ahead of you as if as if he owned not only the street but the very air you were breathing. he wore his training gear, white joggers that we’re sleek and snug, the kind that drew just enough attention to his long strides and broad shoulders. and as you trailed behind him, an idea struck you—a dumb, impulsive idea you didn’t bother questioning.

your lips curled upward, the kind that spelled trouble. mischief surged through your veins. with a quick glance to make sure the coast was clear, you picked up your pace.

smack!

the sharp sound of your hand meeting sae’s butt echoed louder than you expected, and his entire body froze. you nearly doubled over laughing at how he stiffened like a startled cat, his head snapping around with wide teal eyes.

"what the hell—" he started, voice low and sharp, but the words seemed to escape him entirely.

you bit your lip, but it was futile—laughter burst from you in waves. leaning against a lamppost to support yourself, you wheezed. "what? you got a perfectly slapable ass, sae. i couldn’t resist."

sae’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightened, and a faint flush creeped up his neck. his eyes pinned you with a glare so intense it might’ve scared anyone else. "you—are you insane? we're in public!"

"so? no one cares!" you waved a hand dismissively, still grinning like a troublemaker caught red-handed. "besides, you should take it as a compliment."

his lips parted, then closed, as if searching for words strong enough to match his bewilderment. instead, he muttered something under his breath—something quick and sharp in spanish that you didn’t quite catch but could only assume wasn’t flattering. his façade had cracked completely, and you were loving every second of it.

"you’re impossible." he turned sharply on his heel, resuming his pace but noticeably faster this time, as if trying to put distance between you and his evidently vulnerable backside.

"aw, don’t be mad." you teased, jogging to catch up.

"i’m not mad," he replied curtly, though his ears betrayed him, flushed a soft pink under the golden light.

"you’re mad."

"i’m not."

"you’re totally mad."

"do you ever stop talking?" he snapped, though the edge in his voice was softer now, worn down by your relentless teasing.

you leaned in closer, walking in stride him now, your grin practically splitting your face. "sae." you drawled, trying to suppress another fit of laughter. "are you embarrassed?"

he shot you a sidelong glance, sharp and unreadable. "no."

"oh, you so are."

his steps slowed, just enough to turn and face you, his teal eyes narrowing. for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

"you’re lucky my reflexes didn’t have me kick you," he said finally, his voice low and calm in that way that only made your grin widen.

"please, you’d never," you shot back, waving him off with a confidence that bordered on reckless.

he leaned in slightly, his gaze steady, his voice a near-whisper. "you wanna test that theory?"

your breath hitched, the teasing quip on your tongue forgotten. but then, his lips twitched—just barely, a flicker of amusement seeping through. 

"ha! i knew it," you crowed, pointing at him like you’d just won the lottery..

he shook his head, muttering something about how he’d never understand why he put up with you. but as you walked home, you didn’t miss the way his lips curled at the corners—a rare, fleeting smile he made no effort to hide.

nor did you miss the way he subtly adjusted his bag, strategically letting it hang just a little lower over his backside.

© 2025 mreowsu

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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With all the excitement from the Watchtower, Danny had ended up crashing as soon as they got back to the manor. The others had let him sleep, and Bruce had been there to help him get the dinner Alfred had left for him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Yet after eating he was quick to fall asleep again. It was a similar pattern of sleeping, eating, and sleeping more that filled up the entire next day for him. Though he did manage to squeeze in another bath during the most recent stretch of time he’d been awake. That was before he unintentionally knocked out on his stomach while lounging on the couch in the study. It really was a nice room. With the fireplace, and soft cushions. Sam had ended up telling everyone to just let him sleep since he was usually sleep deprived anyway. The rest could only do him some good on catching up on the two years of accumulated sleep debt.

It was only in the afternoon of the second day after meeting with Barry that Danny was staying awake for more than two hours. A checkup from Leslie kept him occupied for an hour, even though it was still odd to him to be getting his health monitored by an actual doctor instead of his family members and a lot of guessing. He currently only had burns in an area slightly bigger than his hand on his ribs, and they arguably weren’t even second degree anymore. Something that made Leslie marvel considering he hadn’t had any kind of skin transplant or the like, but something that was still annoyingly painful if he moved too suddenly or too far.

It was during the check up that Bruce let him know that Barry and Wally had made progress with isolating which realm was theirs, and would probably be over that evening. Part of their validation was for one of them to actually visit the realm, and potentially bring something back that the others would recognize. Danny felt it was a little unfair that one of the Flashes would be able to see his realm before any of them, but it was something he was willing to give up if it meant they could confirm everyone was alright. Barry had already called to check in with Jazz on an item she thought they should try to grab, and because of the conversation with Conner and Bart at the Watchtower she had suggested one of their cellphones or laptops.

It was strange when they were gathered down in the Batcave and Barry didn’t have either of those in his hands. Danny figured maybe he was going to try and surprise them with it since they didn’t know exactly who’s phone he had grabbed, but he also couldn’t help feeling uneasy with Barry’s mannerisms. Something seemed off about him. That smile wasn’t quite right. Even though Barry tried to be as energetic as them while they all clambered into seats, Danny couldn’t help staring at him with increasing unease. Why was he insisting that they were all seated?

Had…. Had the G.I.W. done something worse than they could think of?

Danny felt Jazz start to share his unease when Barry took a seat to face them at eye level, and drew a breath to speak.

“As you know we were able to lock on to your realm’s original location. And as part of the process Wally and I both took a trip there to make sure we could create a connection,” Barry started, giving a summary that was way too quick and caused Danny’s smile of anticipation for the good news to slowly drop. Barry didn’t seem to want to drag this out any longer than necessary though, for after a tense breath and exchanged look with Bruce he finally let his own, forced smile fade. “I’m sorry… This is never easy to say, but… there’s nothing left.”

Danny didn’t fully register standing up. A subconscious need to put himself between the others and what he considered, however momentarily, a threat forcing him to his feet and moving him to stand slightly between Barry and his friends and sisters.

“W’what?”

That was Jazz, of course. Always giving the other side a chance to clarify. To explain more. To maybe correct their statement with the other side’s feelings in consideration the next time.

“I’m sorry,” Barry breathed again, wishing he didn’t have to tell these children their home and everything in it was no longer in existence. “The space where your realm occupied is empty. We’ve seen it a few times before, after something causes the reality of the realm to be broken…. There’s nothing we can do, but we’ll make sure you’re taken care of here.”

Their world had died. While they were gone, something had happened to erase what they had left behind before they could get back to it to protect it. Millions of people were gone, but all Danny could register was a single fact, echoing repeatedly in his mind.

His parents were dead.

His parents were dead, and he hadn’t been there. His own words from before echoed in his brain in a static of spikes as his breathing became semi erratic. None of this mattered if the people he cared about weren’t safe. What did it matter that he was still there- what did it matter that he was almost healed? What did any of it matter if Maddie and Jack weren’t there with him?

His friends and sisters were in an uproar, but it felt so distant from him. He only caught pieces of their outrage.

“What are we supposed to do?”

Sam.

“Says the one whose parents probably left her an entire fortune! I have nothing now!”

Tucker.

“I have nothing either, you ass! Or did you forget none of us exist in this realm! None of us have anything!”

Sam again.

“You will be taken care of. I promise-”

Bruce, interrupted by Danielle before he could finish.

“None of that matters you idiots! Who did it? Who’s the dumbass that killed my mom and dad?! ‘Cause I’m gonna rip them to shreds-”

“Danny?”

The voice from Jazz was strangely soft compared to the others, but shaking so much. He hadn't noticed her stepping in front of him, his brain a static of fuzz and muffled noise. Her poor frame trembled as she gently took Danny’s hands, causing him to flinch and blink for the first time in the past minute. He felt hollow. Like someone had ripped open his chest and scraped it clean, spraying it with disinfectant to the point he was numb from the burn. His throat didn’t want to work, memories of the explosion destroying the Nasty Burger breaking into his memory. Only to be pushed fractionally at bay by Jazz’s warm hands and concerned expression filling his vision. If he could just focus on her, maybe he could get his body moving again. Maybe he could do something. He still had his sisters. Maybe they could keep him going until he could figure out a way to fix this. He did last time. He had to figure something out. He always did.

“Was it because of Danny-?”

The breath to Danny’s lungs cut off harshly as he heard Sam’s words sounding too loud in his ears. He couldn’t breathe, his gaze dragging through eternity to meet her’s as she tried to recover what she’d implied.

“I’I- No- Danny, that’s not what I meant-” Sam stammered around the hand that had flown to her mouth after she realized too late what he question had implied. She had just been listing potential events to consider for the cause of the destruction. The fight against the GIW ending in realm rending explosions that had transported them there in the first place. Explosions that were essentially caused by Danny’s wail.

All Danny could think as his wide eyes stung, blurred, and spilled hot tears down his cheeks, was blame.

It’s my fault.

His thoughts were a whisper in his mind as his hands pulled from Jazz’s grip.

I killed them.

The start of a scream too weak to fully manifest escaping his throat before he smothered his mouth with his hands. He couldn’t be there. He couldn’t deal with all of this on top of them. He couldn’t handle being there when he didn’t know if they wanted to hate him or beg for him to save them.

So he left.

Body becoming intangible and invisible Danny leapt into the air, fleeing the source of the hurt and the confines of the foreign building so he could maybe just get some damn air and quiet. To stop being stared at with pity, and grief, and guilt, and concern, and something his sister gave so freely but he didn’t deserve. How could she still love and care about him after what he’d done? He had to leave so he could figure his own brain out before coming to terms with them, leaving behind even more voices from before yelling in an uproar.

“DANNY!”

How many people had yelled that? The more colorful cussing was easier to pick out individual voices to, but Tim gave his own explicative to the pool.

“Shit! Where’s he going-?” he cursed, eyes locking on Danielle since she was the only one he thought would even have a chance to follow the kid with abilities none of them knew how to deal with yet. They had only caught Danielle before because she had chosen to fight back. When she hadn’t wanted to be found in the past, they couldn’t find her. And Danny was more advanced in his skills than her.

“Don’t look at me! I can’t track him!” Danielle spat, her emotions getting slammed sideways with additional stress over her brother.

“Did you seriously just BLAME DANNY!?” Tucker burst, rounding on Sam.

“I WASN’T BLAMING ANYONE!” Sam roared back, coming back at Tucker with a fist raised only to have Barry snatch her hand.

“I have to go look for him!” Jazz broke, turning to leave, to do something other than stand there unable to get her brother’s soul crushed expression out of her mind.

“ENOUGH!”

Bruce hadn’t raised his voice once since they had been staying with him, and hearing him scold them now caused everyone in the room to freeze and snap their full attention to him. Even Jazz stumbled where she was and stopped.

“No one is going anywhere-” Bruce started, his tone more even, and surprisingly calm once again.

“Do not tell us to let him go, Bruce!” Tim snapped, breaking away from his almost frantic brainstorming with Barbara over the phone. “Being alone is not a good idea right now. He’s an isolated kid that got forced into being the only hero and having everyone rely on him, and just lost two people he loves. You and I both know people can’t deal with that on their own. Not even you,” he spat, rounding on Bruce defiantly.

The outburst caught Bruce only slightly off guard because of the content. But to Tim’s surprise, after flinching back fractionally, Bruce just gave a slightly pained grimace before resting his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I know, Tim,” Bruce assured. “And likewise, this isn't just on you to take care of.” That caused Tim to flinch this time, having not realized he was falling into that headspace. “No one is going anywhere until we get a plan together to make sure we have the city covered. It’s a big area after all, and Danny can fly. Which means we’ll have to work with everyone. So how about we all get suited up?”

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=7=;a I had this chapter 90% written like two months ago, and because of that I've reached the point where I've worked with it so long I think it's terrible. Also I had such a long break from the holidays I feel like I forgot how to draw X'DDD euuhhhhh I hope Sam looks okay, I'm not all that familiar with that culture so just googled and picked things that I thought suited her

Anyways, enjoy the return of suffering =u=b

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