#and 'too in love to think straight' another round of giggles. i like her a lot

[love-rats]

i ain't a swiftie by any means but i just think it's a shame that one of her songs is so me and her coded

[netegf]

Hate It When You Leave

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.

warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)

word count: 6.5 k

There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.

For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot. 

The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him. 

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.

That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath. 

But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.

And he was right, they were. 

"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"

"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."

You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another. 

How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding. 

You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway. 

Some things don't change. 

The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses. 

You love Rafe Cameron.

"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.

You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs. 

Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too. 

You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister. 

Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend. 

A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.

Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.

Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you. 

And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.

When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere. 

Much to Topper's devastation. 

He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise. 

"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."

"I am being honest."

He glances at you sharply. 

"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."

"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you. 

"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow. 

This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.

By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely. 

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again. 

"You know he would do anything for you, right?" 

You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you. 

"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point." 

Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat. 

"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."

You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink. 

Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face. 

Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well. 

At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.

Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.

But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him. 

You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights. 

Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.  

"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly. 

Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.

He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud. 

"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.

Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.

In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.

Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.

"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly. 

"I'm driving."

He continues to stare at you blankly.

"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"

Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically. 

"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"

You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray. 

"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow. 

"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."

Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.

Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming. 

His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.

But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted. 

When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display. 

While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.

These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath. 

Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage. 

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.

His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it. 

"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there. 

"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.

He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.

Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.

And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him. 

"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.

Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking. 

"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."

He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint. 

"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."

"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night. 

Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates. 

"Fuck, not you, too."

He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs. 

He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.

Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway. 

"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?" 

"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"

"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."

You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again. 

"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently. 

"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."

You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.

"Your house? Please?"

There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.

Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you. 

For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.

As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after. 

Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.

Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else. 

"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?" 

Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house. 

"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."

"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."

Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt. 

You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.

Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway. 

"I love these." 

Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.

He slowly picks one up.

"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."

Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world. 

He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.

Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much. 

"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."

You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.

"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."

You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.

But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.

There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.

Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check. 

"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"

You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat. 

"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."

His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.

By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you. 

A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes. 

Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.

The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day. 

It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing. 

Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.

In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.

The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators. 

In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night. 

Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included. 

You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.

Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.  

But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all. 

"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.

Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine. 

He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.

Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger. 

Daniel was nice enough.

He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.

But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.  

The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head. 

At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date. 

"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.

You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.

"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything." 

Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall. 

Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl. 

No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together. 

"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."

Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.

An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.

As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.

Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.

She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.

When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."

Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about. 

"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.

He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.

"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am." 

The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.

Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company. 

You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers. 

"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you. 

"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."

Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself. 

"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"

Topper snickers when he cuts him off. 

"Maybe he should've been your date."

Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!". 

After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.

Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin. 

He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.

But you didn't know what to say.

Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date. 

Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.

"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."

You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing. 

"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote. 

Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them. 

"Maybe later." You reply quietly. 

Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.

In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.

Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else. 

The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees. 

Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.

"What's wrong?"

You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.

"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."

He looks at you completely scandalized. 

"Are you... mad at me?"

You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. 

"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like." 

"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.

Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.

"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.

You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.

"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."

Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.

Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.

"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.

Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.

"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"

He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.

"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that." 

Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.

Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.

You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?" 

"Have you met Topper?"

That was a good point. 

Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.

"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."

You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.

"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off. 

"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”

Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.

Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.

The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement. 

For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy. 

"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.

Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs. 

He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.

"Not gonna do anything unless you ask." 

You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."

"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that." 

Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.

He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?" 

You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity. 

"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."

Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.

He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart. 

"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long." 

You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.

"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”

Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder. 

"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."

Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.

"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party." 

Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.

"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue." 

Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.

The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground. 

Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness. 

By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.

Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.

"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.

"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

[dira333]

It is what it is - Tendou x Reader x Ushijima (platonic)

Another one of my "this is my boyfriend and this is my boyfriend's best friend" fics. This has been going round and round in my head the whole weekend, I hope I could put all the feeling into this that I felt about it. Tell me what you think.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain and @satorisoup because in a way, it's Tendou

“Aren’t you worried people are going to call you out for this?” Satori asks, teasing lilt in his voice. “Flying all the way to Paris for a haircut?”

“I don’t care,” Wakatoshi exclaims, bathing in your joyful giggling and Satori’s amused snort.

“Whatever you say. I’ll see you after work, okay?” The redhead brushes a hand over his buzzcut before leaning over to kiss you - Wakatoshi averts his eyes on instinct.

“See you later. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hold Satori’s hand all the way to the door, watch him step into the elevator before you turn back.

“Alright, now that we’re on our own. What do you want me to do with your hair? Some color? A buzzcut?”

“The usual,” he asks, closing his eyes when you pat his shoulder. 

There’s so much understanding in your words, your action, the simplest touch.

Oh, how he’s missed you.

-

“Wakatoshi, stand straight,” his mother orders. His father’s hands are warm on his shoulders as he stiffens, posture perfect now.

“This is my good friend,” she explains just seconds later and Wakatoshi can see it, in the harsh lines and the absence of a smile.

“And this is her daughter. It would make us very happy if you two would marry one day.”

“Love-” His father says in that tone he uses when he asks his mother to change her mind on something. She rarely listens.

“Of course, nothing will be settled until you are older,” she speaks over him yet again. “But I am sure you two will be fast friends.”

The adults leave them alone after that, with nothing but a plate of healthy snacks and glasses of water.

You are nice to look at, he thinks. Unlike your mother, you’re curves and softness, eyes glittering as you shyly ask what he likes to do in his free time.

“My father plays Volleyball with me sometimes,” he explains, “Or I read.”

“Could you show me?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you wait for his answer.

“The books or Volleyball?” He asks, not really understanding. He’s not good at reading between the lines, as his mother calls it. He hopes you won’t mind.

But your face lights up at his question, a sight he wants to see again.

“Both?” You ask and when he nods and turns to show you to his room first, your hand shoots out to curl into his, warm and small and soft.

He can’t remember the last time he held someone’s hand, but he squeezes yours like his father used to do with his and your smile tells him what he did was the right thing.

-

“Is this okay?” You ask, soft voice floating around him as you drag a comb through his hair.

“It always is,” he answers, stilling as you move to assess your work.

“It looks good,” you decide finally, smiling as you grab a mirror, making a show of presenting it. “You look good, Toshi.”

“You look better,” he insists, but it sounds foreign in his mouth. 

He’s not one to compliment someone’s appearance and he can see the surprise in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately, “It’s something I heard Satori say.”

“I thought it sounded familiar,” you agree easily before patting his cheek. “I sometimes lend sentences from him as well.”

“Pray tell.”

You smile, handing him the mirror again. “First you have to tell me how it looks.”

“Perfect,” he says, because it is. He looks the way he’s used to, the same haircut he’s had for years. You embrace routine as much as he does. Maybe that’s why the two of you clicked so well.

“Now,” you smile, “I’ll make us some tea. I’m sure I still have some sweets hidden where Satori won’t look if you want them.”

“I’d rather have something healthy,” he admits and your smile doesn’t flicker, it grows.

“Like the old days,” you agree easily.

It warms his heart that you remember the beginnings of your friendship as well as he does.

-

“Are you leaving?” Satori asks, looking up from his Shonen Jump.

“Yes,” Wakatoshi agrees, tying his shoelaces. “I will be back before lights out.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Satori laughs, “I’m curious. Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting with a friend.”

“Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t know her.”

The surprise is loud on his face, dark eyes widening.

“A girlfriend?” Satori gasps, hands pressed against his lips in excitement. 

“A friend that’s a girl,” Wakatoshi corrects. For a second he stills, doorknob in his hand. “Do you want to join us?”

Satori blinks. Once, twice, three times.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I think she might like you.”

“In that case… give me five minutes.”

“I’ll inform her that we’ll come in later.”

“We won’t be late if we run,” Satori sings, diving into his closet to pull out something to wear that doesn’t wear the Shiratorizawa emblem.

.

Wakatoshi is usually blind to social cues, no matter how much he studies them. He still can’t read between the lines, but he can’t say he’s given it much thought lately.

He’s good at Volleyball and he’s excelling in his studies. What else is there in life?

You’ve never complained about him missing something either, clearly content with the state of your friendship. And if there’s someone’s opinion he cares about, it’s not his mother's, it’s yours.

But he can see it now, written in bold letters on your face, your eyes, the shiver of your hesitant smile.

You look at Satori like the girls from his class look at him before he begins to speak.

Your hand twitches as if to hold his but you hesitate.

He turns to look, surprised to see his only other friend just as changed.

Satori is supposed to be the confident one. Loud and unapologetically himself.

This Satori, however, is blushing, staring at the tips of his sneakers only for his eyes to flicker upwards and back to you for only a second before looking back down. 

Is this, Wakatoshi thinks, a little dumbfounded that it’s happening in front of him of all people, is this falling in love?

-

It’s cold, even for Spring in Europe. You curl further into the warmth of your jacket, hands stuffed into the pockets to keep warm.

The day had been bathed in a grey light that’s now dimming fast, street lamps and the warm glow of shop windows battling against the coming night.

Wakatoshi’s hand reaches out without a thought, folding around yours like he used to when you were little.

You look up with surprise and he’s not sure if he should regret this or not.

“You’re worried,” you tell him, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “I can see it now. I was wondering what was wrong, but you wouldn’t say and I didn’t want to push.”

He opens his mouth to insist that he’s fine, a lie he’s been telling himself for weeks now, almost mastering to make himself believe it.

“Don’t lie, Toshi,” you ask and it’s the nickname that unravels him, a memory from long forgotten times resurfacing.

“I love you,” he admits, words spilling out of him like Volleyballs out of an upturned cart. They’re unstoppable, now that they’ve been set free.

But your smile doesn’t fade and your hand only squeezes his.

“I know, Toshi.”

His eyes flicker to the dark asphalt and back up.

“But Satori-”

“You don’t love me like Satori loves me, do you, Toshi?”

Your voice is warm and comfortable, like a blanket he wants to curl into.

“I don’t know,” he admits, because this is you. He’s always been honest with you.

“But I do,” you tell him softly, reaching up to cup his cheek with your other hand. “You’ve never looked at me in that way. We both know it, Satori and I, we both know you. What is worrying you?”

The question hits him like one does a tuning fork, everything in him vibrating to the point he fears he’ll fall apart. 

“I miss you,” he says, his voice carrying something he cannot begin to describe.

Hurt, loneliness, despair, insecurity. Will I ever be enough?

“Oh Toshi,” you rub your thumb under his eye, catching a tear that must have slipped out. “We miss you too. But we love you, okay? And even though it feels like that sometimes, you’ll never be alone.”

He considers it, smoothes it over the open wound inside of him like one does with a balm.

Another voice pops up, cuts through the noise inside his head like a warm knife through butter.

“There you are. I was looking for you.”

They both turn and Wakatoshi isn’t sure what he anticipates to see in his best friend’s face.

Anger, maybe, or betrayal. 

Not this kind of soft worry he isn’t used to.

You say something in French he doesn’t quite catch and Satori steps closer, wraps one impossible long arm around his shoulders, and curls into him.

“Can’t fool us, big boy,” he says with a voice so warm it feels like hot chocolate tastes, “Knew something was up when you asked to travel all the way here for a haircut.”

It might look strange to someone looking in, the three of them hugging in the cold night on the middle of the sidewalk.

But it’s not strange to Wakatoshi.

He should have known. These are his friends. His family. 

His home away from home.

-

“Is this really okay?” Satori asks, kneeling on the floor next to Wakatoshi’s bed. “You’ve got to be honest with me here, okay?”

“I am.”

“I am going to marry her if you let me, you know this!”

“I’d be happy if you did,” Wakatoshi insists. “If she wants you, that is.”

Satori snorts but it sounds more like a sob. “You think she likes me?”

“She said so, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” the word is more a dreamy sigh than anything else. Satori puts his head back and stares up at the ceiling. 

“I didn’t know people like her existed,” he says, voice far away. Wakatoshi turns to look at him. 

“Girls?” He asks, a little confused.

“Kind people,” Satori explains, “with a good heart. Who don’t judge about someone’s looks.”

“Did that happen to you?” Wakatoshi asks, thinking about himself and his mother and you.

There’s something in Satori’s eyes, something vulnerable and open that he hasn’t seen before.

Wakatoshi pats the bed next to him before he can pull himself away again. Satori is nice. He wants to know him.

“Tell me about it?” He asks.

.

“You’re not good with social cues, are you?” Satori asks one day after lunch, walking back to Class.

“No.”

“The girl that was talking to you, she wanted me to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because she likes you. She wanted to be alone with you.”

Wakatoshi stops, freezing in place.

“What?” Satori asks, walking back to him. “What are you thinking about?”

“Do you want to be alone?”

Satori understands immediately. “Sometimes, yeah. But I’d tell you that, you know? Right now we barely manage to hold hands without our faces combusting. And I like having you there. She does too, I know.”

“How?”

“She said so,” Satori pulls out his phone, drags his thumb across the screen for a minute before he holds it up for Wakatoshi to see.

It’s an entire conversation he’s not been part of, your blocks of texts interspersed with the emojis Satori likes to use.

But he can read it, black letters on a white background.

“Wakatoshi is the most important person in my life.” It warms his heart like hot chocolate on a cold night.

“And since you’re my best friend too,” Satori singsongs, “You’re not getting rid of either of us.”

“Good,” Wakatoshi nods and repeats it once more for good measure. “Good.”

-

“Poland is not that far away,” you point out over morning coffee. Your hair’s a mess and you sit in Satori’s lap, leaning back into him every few minutes to remind him to feed you one more bite of the croissants Wakatoshi bought on his morning run.

“It’s not France.”

“Yeah, but the French team sucks,” Satori exclaims, “You’d lose all happiness playing for them just to be close. The Polish team sounds good if you ask me. And it’s really not that far. You could come over once or twice a month depending on your schedule.”

“I’ll think about it,” he agrees, buying himself some time with a sip from his coffee.

His wound is still open, though it has stopped bleeding.

“Do you think I’ll find someone,” he asks, yet again unable to keep the words inside before he has thought them through.

Satori and you both turn your heads to the side as you think, a habit that started with one person but he’s no longer sure with whom.

“Maybe you will,” you say, “maybe you won’t. You can be happy either way.”

“Don’t lose sight of what’s important to you,” Satori adds, “because it can be easier than you think. To give up on a boundary just because you think you have to.”

He considers that for a second.

“If I’ll never find someone-” Your hand finds his before he’s able to finish the sentence, squeezing as hard as you can.

“You’ll never be alone,” you insist. Satori’s larger hand wraps around yours until again, you are three.

- - -

The French Countryside is not a bad place to retire.

“Look what I found,” Satori raises a basket full of fruit, each looking better than the last, “everything from our own garden.”

“I thought you wanted to work less,” Wakatoshi comments, picking a plump apricot from the basket and biting into it. It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Ah, this isn’t work,” Satori insists, but he puts the basket down, pressing a hand to his back for a second. “I just need to slow down a little.”

“You should,” Wakatoshi agrees, but makes no move to pick up the basket himself. His back is even worse than Satori’s.

“Boys, boys,” your voice comes from inside, “Leave the hard work to someone younger. I’ve made coffee and tea, what do you want?”

They turn and walk inside, Satori singing yet another made-up song about the market in the village.

When he reaches you, he kisses your temple first and then your lips, squeezing your hips under the apron.

Wakatoshi has gotten used to the sight after decades. He’s more interested in his coffee and maybe the morning paper.

“Has anyone seen my glasses?” He asks, squinting down at the paper. 

Satori laughs. “On your head,” he tells him, but stays where he is, glued to your side.

It’s like this everyday and if someone would dare to ask, Wakatoshi wouldn’t mind living like this for another decade or two.

After all, one hasn’t lived before turning one hundred.

My Kofi if you'd like to tip me

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I saw u say i do hcs so i thought i should ask for some hcs 'cause ur one shots r great so ur hcs will obviously be too. Anyways, can we get hcs about Javier having a crush on a girl who's nice and reserved, a bit shy too. Like, what he'd do to impress her? How will he talk to her? It's more fluff but u can add some nsfw because ur style in writing is just *chef's kiss*

HC for Javier crushing on a shy and reserved fem!reader (smut)

warnings: smut, some humiliation

Javier is absolutely smitten

Many people think he's some smooth talking romantic, but we saw the way he was acting around those two women at the bar in Valentine

The way he acts around women he wants is quite frivolous 

At first he think your shyness means you don’t want to talk to him or straight up don’t want anyone's company, and he’s very discouraged by it

Sometimes he’ll see you walking past and say “Why don’t you talk to me more often?” to which you laugh awkwardly to

Cries himself to sleep that night

Will very hesitantly try and talk you or ask for your opinion on things to strike conversation

When you ask what’s up he would have realized he didn’t think his bluff through so makes something up

Ends up asking what you think of his outfit

To which you say you think it's lovely and call him stylish

The compliment makes his year

He trips over his words and becomes excited, grasping at anything to get your attention and keep it

His excitement can be described as juvenile, as he finds any excuse to try and be around you

Will learn how to sew simply so he can sit there with you while you do your chores 

And so Miss Grimshaw doesn’t yell at him for distracting you while working, he’s working too he would argue

Notices you come round the campfire when he’s playing or singing, so he starts doing it almost every night

Sometimes he’ll sing love songs for you indirectly, even if people are around and nobody knows it’s meant for you, Javier will mean it in his head

Will ask you for song requests personally 

He’s pretty awkward at first when it comes to crushes but once he advances in them he’ll get more confident

For a while he sorta just stood around you and asked you mundane little questions, followed you around like a lost puppy

Your shyness would keep you from giving more fleshed out answers, but your brief responses would not discourage him

But once the two of you started talking more he makes sure he’s the one you talk to the most

Definitely the type of guy who keeps your attention by making you laugh. Anytime you two are together it's all giggles from you and it's SO obvious to anyone around you guys that y’all are flirting

Definitely the jealous type as well

If he sees you talking to another guy his anger will probably cause him to be more bold with you

Eventually starts dedicating songs to you

Once he starts getting real bold he’ll say more flirty stuff

“Can I stay in your tent with you tonight? It’s a bit cold.” 

Once you start dating he INSISTS you don’t lift a finger and will do your chores for you

His previously learned sewing skill comes in real handy

NSFW

Think your shyness is so so cute and sexy

Despite his own initial nerves, he tries to be audacious for the both of you during sex

Will lead many of your sessions together

Always starts nice and slow and takes things at your pace

Unwraps you like a present but very carefully as though your skin is made of paper and he might actually tear you

His nerves shine through as he undresses you with shaky hands

Will constantly ask you questions and cup your face so you can speak to him while looking him in the eyes

His confidence increases the longer you are together and become comfortable with one another

This man can fuck rough, starkly contrasts your own shy personality

Has so much stamina, but will slow it down if you ask

Loves making you blush by talking dirty, will whisper absolute filth in your ear if it means just getting you to blush

Will nip at your earlobe while whispering to you, sees just how wet he can get you from his words alone

Praises you so much during sex “My perfect girl, you’re doing so good.” “Yes, just like that preciosa, you’re so good at this.”

Loves the way the praise makes you blush just as much as his dirty talk

Is so lewd when you two are going at it, always encourages you to be just as bold

Enjoys your quiet personality in front of others just to see how loud he can make you scream in private

Puts you in embarrassing positions just to see how flustered you get 

Sometimes he'll secretly grope you in public to see the way you squeak

Absolutely tease, gets so much enjoyment from watching the way you squirm because of how shy you are 

[julieverne]

Maura kisses Jane when she's had a few drinks.

Not in, like, a gay way. She just looks up at Jane with shining eyes and plants one on her. Sometimes it's followed with a slurred 'I freaking love you', and sometimes it's preceded by it. Jane learns her tells pretty quickly, but she never has the heart to dodge them.

---

The first time was in The Dirty Robber. They'd been drinking after a case, and Frost had joined them. They sat on the same side of the booth so women wouldn't think one of them was with him; they didn't want to ruin his pickup game. Jane hadn't noticed the little flush of histamines on Maura's cheeks. She hadn't noticed Maura leaning against her, so involved with the conversation with Frost about their case that she'd merely slung an arm over her and kept talking. When Frost got up to get another round, Jane looked over, and Maura pulled her in close, hand fisted in the front of Jane's tee.

It hadn't been passionate, it had just been a kiss. The sort that bridesmaids give each other on a hens night, the kind that straight women gave each other when they had good news. Jane had chuckled awkwardly, and Maura pulled away from her closed mouth, looking up at Jane with a grin.

"You're so smart. I can't believe you caught that guy."

"It's your evidence that's going to put him away," Jane said gently, a little unsettled. A compliment and a kiss. It was a little too soft and girly for her, but Maura had always been a little too soft and girly for her. That was part of what she liked about her. Jane had enough rumours about her sexuality flying around the precinct, and this was a cop bar. She looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed. Jane hadn't minded; Maura had nice breath and she hadn't mauled her. It hadn't been gross or anything. It hadn't even been particularly unwanted. Part of her wondered if she should mind, but it was hardly a confession of love or attraction. It was just something drunk straight girls did, wasn't it? Maura reached for her glass, but tipped it over instead.

"You're drunk," Jane realised out loud, tightening her arm around Maura's shoulders, glad Frost hadn't seen the kiss. Even though he'd know there was nothing to it, he would heckle Jane relentlessly.

Frost came back with three drinks, and Jane pulled Maura's out of her reach. "You've had enough to drink," Jane said gently, and Maura pouted, slumping against Jane. Frost chuckled, jumping in where he'd left off, while Jane pointed out pretty women at the bar giving him glances.

---

The next time, Constance was staying over. She'd brought wine, and Maura had had a little more than one glass. Jane had had one; she didn't mind a wine or beer, but she stayed pretty sober. PTSD and drinking didn't mix well; she'd learned that fast after Hoyt. Then there was Tommy and Frank, examples that alcohol addiction didn't look good on Rizzolis. Even Jane was feeling the buzz, though; not too heavy, but enough that she excused herself from the table to get some water. She didn't want nightmares later, and she still had to drive home.

Maura joined her in the kitchen, giggling as she stumbled and Jane caught her.

She looked up at Jane, who held her with one arm around her, holding her by the hip, then she looked at Jane's chest, then back up at Jane, her eyes shining, her smile glorious.

"You always save me," Maura said, her voice so low that Jane had to lean down a little to hear her. Maura leaned up a little and pressed her lips to Jane's, quick and easy. "Thanks," Maura said, her cheeks flushed from wine.

Jane held the glass she'd filled from the sink and held it to the lips that had just touched hers until Maura gave in and drank from it.

"You need this more than me," Jane mumbled, her voice low and amused.

Constance and Angela, at the table, looked away when Jane glanced over at them. It was fine. They knew they were just friends. It wasn't like either of them were homophobic either - Constance had been talking about a queer exhibit she'd defended in West Virginia last month, and Angela had shook her head.

"How can anyone hate love," she'd said, looking over at Jane.

Maura drank half the glass before pulling away, shaking her head. Rather than dirty another glass, Jane finished the water and poured another. Her thumb rubbed the crest of Maura's hip, holding her close in case she stumbled again.

"Am I embarassing myself?" Maura asked, sotto voice. Jane chuckled and drank some more water. She turned to look at Maura, who focused her intense gaze on Jane's eyes, seeking an answer. Jane brought up a hand and used two fingers to brush a lock of hair away from Maura's forehead, tucking it behind her ear, then let those fingers drift onto Maura's cheek.

"You could never," Jane told her. "But you're definitely tipsy."

Maura's brow furrowed. She took the glass from Jane's hand and sipped from it.

"I'm being a terrible host," Maura confessed. "Leaving my guests alone at the dining table."

"They're fine. They both love you."

Maura looked uncertain, and it hurt Jane to see just how much she questioned people's affection for her.

"Everyone here loves you, Maura," Jane told her, and Maura's uncertainty turned into a shy smile. Jane knew she'd gotten through to her. Maura's arm wrapped around Jane's waist and she leaned against her. "Even if you are a lightweight," Jane added, rubbing Maura's back.

---

The next time was a Rizzoli gathering. They usually didn't drink, but Tommy was out of town, so it was just Frankie and Jane and Angela in Maura's courtyard, catching up over Sunday dinner. Jane and Frankie fought over who worked the barbeque, and Jane brought Maura her plate first, sitting beside her. Maura's skin glowed in the dusk light, her smile luminescent in twilight. Jane ducked her head to hide the smile on her face, to hide the way Maura made her smile. Maura, caught up in the silliness of Jane and Frankie, stole Jane's beer, wrinkling her nose at the taste of it. God, she was so cute Jane could barely stand it.

So she didn't complain when Maura hauled her inside to get the fresh berries they'd picked upstate for dessert. Maura paused at the counter, looking up at Jane, and Jane was kind of expecting it this time.

Maura got up on her tiptoes in her flats, one hand on Jane's hip, and she pressed her mouth against Jane's.

"Today was perfect. Thank you."

Jane shrugged shyly; it had just been the usual Rizzoli chaos. Maura was still looking up at her like she was a sunset or a fancy painting that coat more than Jane's condo. "I really freaking love you," Maura added. "And your family. I'm so glad I have you."

"Me too," Jane agreed. She snagged a blueberry, chewed it, then pressed her mouth to Maura's, hoping she tasted as good as Maura always did. Maura's smile was shy but no less beautiful for the blue staining her lips.

---

The next time was after the election. Giovanni had been depressed about his candidate, and he'd joined them for a drink. He'd hinted again at a threesome, but Maura, after a single drink this time, had kissed Jane solidly without flinching.

"I'm not sharing her," Maura said possessively, holding Jane's hand on the table. Jane had rolled her eyes when Frankie and Frost and Korsak gave her raised eyebrows from across the room, but she'd tucked her arm over Maura's shoulders and kissed her temple.

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth," Jane said, shrugging.

"I'm hardly a horse, Jane,"

"Come on, I know you know the origin of that phrase."

"Typically a horse's age can be determined by the length and wear on their teeth. Are you saying I'm too old for you?"

"Christ," Jane said, exasperated. "Everything's an insult to you, isn't it? No, you're not old. You're not a horse. It's just something people say when they have something too good to be true. Something they don't think they deserve." Jane paused to realise the truth of that statement. Jane knew she wasn't good enough for Maura, but that was okay, because they weren't actually dating, just pretending.

Maura's eyes were big and teary, and Giovanni cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Jane's confession.

"I'm not something you need to deserve. I'm not something you need to earn."

"I know, but sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life." Jane wasn't surprised by the sincerity of her statements; she'd never felt good enough for Maura, and she knew she was lucky to have such a good friend. She'd taken in most of Jane's family, and Jane herself, in times of trouble. Maura's mouth trembled, a single tear spilling from her eye, and Jane caught it with the tip of her thumb, cradling Maura's face.

"Youse two are so sweet," Giovanni said. "I'm outta here before I gotta see a dentist." He joined Frost at the bar, and Jane pulled Maura closer.

"Don't cry," Jane whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise for crying."

"I'm not used to hearing that people - that anyone values me."

"You mean beyond your immense fortune?" Jane joked, and Maura gave her a watery smile. "Look, I know we put on an act for G, but I do value you. Our friendship is the most important relationship I've ever had in my life. I am lucky to have you. Most people don't like dead body talk at dinner, and you're the one that usually starts it. Most people don't like knowing their friends get shot at-"

"I don't like it when you get shot at. Or shot."

"But you haven't - people abandoned me, after Hoyt."

"I'd never." Maura shot Jane an incredulous look that she'd even suspect it of her.

"I know," Jane immediately reassured her. "Look, I'm not good at all the mushy feelings stuff, but I meant what I said. I'm lucky to have you. I don't know what I did right to have you in my life, but I'm forever grateful I do."

Another tear leaked from Maura's eye, and Jane caught that one too. Maura's eyes closed, and Jane let herself cup Maura's face.

"I think I'm the lucky one," Maura said, her voice low. Her eyes opened and she looked at Jane. Jane could see the lonely, neglected child Maura had been, could see the insecure woman she'd initially met. But she could also see the strong, independent Doctor Maura Isles that championed not just herself but Jane. The ire in her voice when she'd chastised a nurse for Jane's empty morphine pump. The way she'd stood between a woman with a knife and Jane. Maura blinked and her expression changed, something impossibly sweet in her eyes before she pressed her mouth against Jane's again. She pulled away with a little smirk, her confidence returned. "You're lucky I love you," she challenged Jane.

Jane let her hand fall from Maura's face, picked up her beer and took a sip, feeling a little regret that it was washing away the feel of Maura against her lips. She looked intently at her beer bottle.

"Yeah, I am," Jane admitted, hearing Maura's triumphant chuckle as a reward.

--

The next time was at Camille's wedding. Jane was wearing a simple dress Maura had chosen for her - one comfortable enough that she wouldn't fidget through the service, but elegant in its simplicity and the way it flattered Jane's lanky form. Jane had danced with Frost, and Cam, and Frankie, and even Camille and Robyn. Maura had been on her feet all night, always someone ready to take the next dance with her, even Angela and Susie. Jane looked over, saw her glowing under the fairy lights, and excused herself from the conversation she was having with Korsak.

"May I have this dance?" Jane asked.

"Only if we swap shoes," Maura said immediately, and a moment later Jane led her over to the chairs, examining Maura's feet. "I'm okay," Maura reassured her, but Jane pulled a band-aid from her purse and covered a blister on Maura's heel anyway, trading their shoes. She rolled her eyes when her toes got pinched.

"Great, it's not like I wasn't tall enough already," Jane complained, but she helped Maura to her feet. The additional couple of inches difference in their heights meant that Maura could rest her head against Jane's chest as they swayed more than danced to the song playing. "Have you had a good night?"

"I've had a lovely night. It makes me mad that they can't get married back home, that the state won't recognise their partnership."

"Sometimes the law sucks," Jane agreed, and Maura chuckled, her hand tightening on Jane's waist. The lights dimmed and Maura pulled back, seeking Jane's face in the darkness. She really had to stretch this time, to kiss Jane. She had a few drinks, but they'd been there for hours. She lingered there a moment this time, then dropped back down, resting her head against Jane's chest again. Jane looked around; the lights were coming up again, someone had plugged in the strand over the wedding arch again. Not that she minded, but they were at a lesbian wedding, and people might get the wrong idea.

"I really, really, freaking love you, Jane. Mostly for swapping our shoes, but also for your other contributions to my personal comfort levels."

Jane chuckled, holding Maura closer. She closed her eyes and felt Maura's head resting over her heart. As lovely a night as Maura might have had, Jane was sure hers had been nicer, because it was ending with Maura.

---

Even Casey being back in Boston didn't deter Maura. They'd come home, giggling and whispering, and Casey had come out, tousled, from Jane's bedroom. Jane liked how she felt with him. She liked that no one questioned their relationship, that no one thought she was too close to Maura. Because she had Casey. He eyed Maura, then sighed.

"Guess I'm taking the couch," he said, resigned, and she loved that he offered, loved him for offering. Loved that he knew Maura came first. She kissed him, then dragged Maura to the bedroom, still giggling.

Maura looked cute in Jane's pyjamas. Jane had bought them specifically for Maura; they had a pattern of crowns on the pants, and the top had the word 'Diva' in gold across the chest, with a little crown tilted over the 'd'. Maura used her toothbrush, then brushed her hair as she watched Jane brush her teeth. The giggles were gone, and the sombre mood had returned; they'd had a rough case, and it had been hard on both of them. Jane was glad Maura was here, because she'd hate to think of Maura all alone in her big bed in Beacon Hill, thinking too much about what she could have done to find the killer sooner so there wouldn't have been a second victim, while Jane lay awake across town in Casey's arms, feeling inexplicably like she'd gone wrong somewhere.

"I should have-" Jane started, seeing what she should have seen earlier. That poor kid would be alive if she'd seen it sooner. Maura took Jane's toothbrush and put it back in the cup. Jane and Maura's shared a cup; Casey's sat on the bench in a travel clip. She turned Jane to look at her.

"It's not your fault," Maura told her sternly.

"I could have done something," Jane said, aware her voice was shaking.

"You know you're not responsible. That awful man would have found some other way to-" Maura shook her head. "I could have-"

"There was no way of knowing." Jane tried to reassure her. "He covered his tracks. We were all taken in by him. I know we both feel like we should have seen it sooner, but you've said it before. Serial killers integrate incredibly well." Maura nodded sadly, and Jane's heart broke a little. Jane was allowed to blame herself, but Maura wasn't. She'd worked long hours, she'd worked tirelessly despite the minute amount of evidence she'd had. That she'd found anything at all was close to miraculous. Jane hugged her, and Maura clung to her, her shoulders shaking. Jane carefully helped her down the hall to the bedroom, sat her down on the bed. She took the left side, forcing Maura onto the side Jane usually slept on. She wasn't making Maura sleep where Casey slept.

"You did everything you could," Jane said, hearing Maura's uneven breathing in the dark. Maura rolled over and found Jane in the bed, hovered over her for a moment, her fingers finding Jane's mouth before her lips did.

"I didn't, but I love you for saying that, even if it's not true." Maura's breath ghosted over Jane's face. Her lips were always soft, but tonight they were salty with the tears that had fallen on them unchecked. Jane found Maura's cheeks in the dark, brushed her thumbs across them.

"How is it not true?"

"I could have found it earlier. He left it there for me. He was taunting me."

"It is so far out of standard operating procedure to check the upper intestines for the momentos of a serial killer. And the fact that the second victim died before we even found the first means there was nothing you could have done. You couldn't have stopped him. We have stopped him, and it's because your brilliant mind found his sick souvenirs."

"I appreciate you saying that."

"Everything that happened was because he was a monster. None of it, not the timing, not the second death - none of it is your fault."

"If it's not mine, then it's not yours either," Maura said, and Jane loved that Maura knew Jane was blaming herself. Maura had stopped crying, but Jane's hands still cradled her face. She pulled Maura down a little lower, too ashamed to ask, too scared to do it herself. But Maura knew her, Maura understood her. Maura placed a gentle kiss of absolution on Jane, and she felt the tension leave them both. Maura tucked herself up on Jane's chest, her hands gripping Jane like a teddy bear.

It was only then that Jane remembered Casey in the other room, the smell of his aftershave on her sheets. Shouldn't she want to be in his arms, after a day like that? He'd understand, wouldn't he? All the self-recriminations, all the things Jane saw on the job. He'd understand.

But he didn't know Jane. Not the way Maura knew Jane. He didn't know how to ease her guilt with a single kiss.

And that made her feel even guiltier.

---

Jane had been checked over by medics before heading to Maura's. She knew Angela was out, and she hoped no one had told Maura what had happened. Casey was gone again, and all Jane had to show for it was an email saying it wasn't going to work out.

It hadn't mentioned Maura.

It hadn't had to.

Maura was at the counter when Jane came in. She turned and stormed towards Jane so angrily that Jane backed up into the door behind her, swallowing.

Maura audited Jane now that she had her trapped, her fingers frisking her like she was a perp, pressing against Jane's ribs to find extra give or bruising, looking for bandages under her shirt.

Jane submitted guiltily to the search, pulling off her jacket and holding out her arm. She'd had a tetanus shot too, which was tender when Maura touched her ass. Barbed wire. She'd been shot at, but it was the barbed wire that got her.

Evidently satisfied Jane was relatively unmarred, some of Maura's ire dissipated. She held Jane's hand and stroked the line of the scar, then lifted her hand to Jane's stomach, where a bullet had gone through her. The other hand trailed up to Jane's throat, where a serial killer had cut her more than once.

Then Maura's lips were on hers, harder and angrier than they'd ever been. A fierce, scared kiss that wasn't the sort a friend would give a friend. Maura pulled away, her finger still on Jane's throat. She kissed the mark on Jane's throat too, the mark that matched hers. When she pulled away, Jane's fingers sought the matching mark, then she gently pressed her lips against the little scar Jane had left on Maura's life.

"Don't you know how much I-" Maura started. Jane pulled away, worried. Maura started to cry, and Jane held her. "Don't you know how much I worry about you?" Maura asked, and it hadn't been what Jane had been expecting to hear.

"I know," Jane reassured her. "I'm okay, I promise." She cradled the back of Maura's head, her other hand rubbing her back as Maura gripped her tightly, her tears wet against Jane's chest. "I came here so you could see for yourself. See? I'm okay."

"Next time you might not be," Maura said fiercely. "No going in without backup. You agreed."

"He wasn't a suspect."

Maura grunted with frustration. Jane ran her fingers through Maura's hair. It hurt when Maura was hurt. But it felt good to have Maura worry about her. It felt good to have that anger aimed at her, because it was easier than all the other things Maura aimed at her. The soft kisses and gentle words. The way she took care of Jane and her family. Maura was too soft and girly for her, and she wished she was softer and girlier for Maura in a way she'd never wanted to be for Casey. She wanted to be the sort of woman who could do Maura's makeup and kiss her in public. She wanted to be the sort of woman who didn't make Maura stay up late worrying about her.

"I never meant to scare you," Jane started. Maura sniffed and pulled away, wiping at her face, pulling away again when Jane reached for her cheeks.

"You have a partner for a reason. How can you expect Frost to watch your back when you take off on your own?"

"I'm sorry," Jane said gently. "He was at lunch, and I didn't think this guy was a threat."

"Can you at least let me know before you do something stupid like that, so I can tell you how stupid you're being?"

"I can try."

"Okay." Maura pouted once more, then gave Jane a weak smile. "Okay."

It was only then that Jane realised that Maura hadn't tasted of wine or beer. She'd been sober. Jane's stomach clenched painfully. It was too real. It wasn't something friends did. Friends didn't kiss - not like that - not sober. She headed for the fridge, grabbing a beer, hoping it would make her feel better. Hoping it would drown out the hope that Maura might actually mean it when she kissed her.

---

Maura smiled when Jane came in after parking the car, but Jane shook her head, serious and quiet. She approached Maura in the kitchen, seeing Maura's uncertainty as Jane advanced on her. Jane kept going until she had Maura pinned against the fridge, the sensor turning the light on, illuminating Maura with a tantalising glow.

Jane lowered her mouth, seeing how Maura's tilted up to hers, then skirted sideways, pressing her lips to the little freckles on the right side of Maura's throat that she'd always wanted to kiss, then around over those collarbones, to the scar she always felt guilty about when Maura didn't cover it in concealer. Maura started to ask a question, but Jane's mouth covered hers and swallowed it. Jane's mouth was usually closed when Maura kissed her; she opened herself up for Maura tonight, and Maura melted between Jane and the fridge. Jane drove on; Maura always had been too soft and girly for her. Jane was used to being forthright and direct, and her lips asked permission that Maura fervently granted, her mouth dropping open to welcome Jane, her hands pulling Jane closer, pressing her hips into Jane, a desperate little whimper escaping from her lungs into Jane's. Jane pulled away, worried she'd hurt her, then saw Maura's plump lips and mildly dilated pupils and flushed chest. She put a hand to Maura's forehead.

"Your temperature is raised," Jane said in wonder. Maura rolled her eyes.

"Did you think I was telling you the signs of female arousal so you'd know when men are attracted to you?" Maura scoffed, pulling Jane back to her, hand on the back of her neck. She matched Jane's energy with her own, hands scrambling at Jane's shirts, with her pants, giving up and threading through Jane's hair, grasping her scalp and making sure Jane didn't pull away.

The front door opened and closed, and Angela coughed as she placed something on the kitchen counter behind them. They pulled apart, flushed and trembling.

"I got takeaway, since you two prefer to eat out," Angela said, taking one bag and heading for the door with a smirk. Jane and Maura stared after her.

"Do you - do you think she knows what that means?" Jane asked finally. Maura shrugged, her attention back on Jane's lips - lips that weren't kissing hers. Lips that should be kissing hers.

Jane pulled away reluctantly.

"I got the rest of my life to kiss you, but that food will be cold by the time I'm done with you."

"How long are you expecting it to take?" Maura asked, following Jane to the food, hiking up her shirt at the back so she could palm her stomach from behind.

"Hmm?" Jane was distracted by dishing out the meals, but also by Maura's hand sliding slowly up her shirt. Maura could be asking how long Jane expected the rest of her life to take, which clearly neither of them knew, or she could be asking how long Jane expected it to take to thoroughly satisfy Maura, which she'd have to budget a few hours for - her lips were so kissable and addictive that she kind of wanted to just do that forever, aware as she was of the building tension as Maura's hand slid lower. Or she could be asking...

"How long until you think you'll be done with me?"

Maura's voice was coy, but Jane heard the question and turned, taking both hands so Maura had to listen to her.

"Just said. Rest of my life. Probably won't be long enough, but I'm never going to be done loving you."

Maura, stunned, freed one hand and pressed it over Jane's heart.

"I meant. You know. The, um. Are we going to?"

"Oh, the sex? When we'll be done having sex? Until neither of us can move anymore, I guess," Jane said casually, squeaking when Maura hauled her out of the kitchen, giving their deserted meal one last longing look before giving up and following Maura up the stairs.

---

Maura kisses Jane when she hasn't had a drink.

In, like, a gay way. She just looks up at Jane with shining eyes and plants one on her. Sometimes it's followed with an 'I love you', and sometimes it's preceded by it. Jane beats her to it more than half the time.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Nine

Fool's Fare: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Cursing, Sirens, Supernatural elements, Swords, Death, Guilt, Grief, Mentions of suicide, Broken hearts, Misplaced anger, Angst galore. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 4.4k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes locking on to Jake’s hunched over form across the room. He took several steadying breaths before opening his eyes to glare at the woman, straightening up as he did so.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he murmured, swallowing thickly as he watched her. The woman chuckled, lips pulled back in that unnatural looking smile as she offered the captain a sympathetic look.

“Of course it wasn’t, dear,” she hummed, looking out the window, “love makes people do unspeakable things. My own son forfeited his life to avenge the one he loved, you know. Sought vengeance despite my warning him not to.”

“No, I don’t know,” Jake snapped, fingers curling into fists, “and I don’t care to know.”

“I begged him not to go,” she sighed, sadness clouding her eyes, and an uneasy feeling began to overwhelm you. “I begged him to wait until I returned with armor forged by the gods themselves, but he would not listen to me, his grief became too much. Struck by an arrow in the one place where he could be hurt.”

“Jake.”

All eyes of the crew flickered towards Javy, the quarter master having silently crept his way up to stand next to the captain. The blond in question arched a brow at him, bidding him to continue.

“The sun is setting,” Javy whispered, eyes watching the old woman suspisciouly as she continued on with her story. Your eyes darted towards the window, noticing for the first time how the surrounding mist seemed darker than earlier.

“We should go while there’s still some light,” he continued, head gesturing towards the door. The woman let out a hiss, whirling around to slam her hands down on the old table as she glared at the two men.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” she screeched, lips curled back into a viscious snarl. You gripped onto Bradley’s hand with both of yours, feeling your heart lurch in your chest as you watched her. A strange energy filled the room, something unlike anything you had ever experienced before, even in the clearing earlier that day.

“You have something that belongs to me,” she purred, her anger dissolving into an unsettling smile as she leaned forward on the table, long, dark hair falling over her shoulder. Fingers twitched on the wooden surface as her dress fell enough to expose her cleavage, a sultry smile overtaking her features as she looked up at the captain in front of her.

“I’ve taken nothing from you,” Jake answered evenly, eyes hard set as he watched her. She giggled, batting her lashes at him as she slowly stood up straight to round the table.

“Not you, no,” she agreed, each step slow and deliberate. “Did you know that Davy Jones was a man once?”

“What?” Jake asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he took a hesitant step back. The woman nodded enthusiastically, taking another slow step.

“He was such a handsome man,” she sighed wistfully, “nothing like the monster he’s become. Although, I suppose deep down he was always that way. His face matches his insides now, don’t you agree?”

Not a word was spoken by those in the room, and the woman chuckled.

“I was so desperate for love back then,” she continued, taking another step. “I wanted to fall into a man’s embrace, and Davy was more than happy to provide that for me, of course. I loved him so very much, I thought my heart might burst right out of my chest.”

She pressed her chest forward to mimic the action, her dress slipping further down her chest in the process, a wicked smile on her face as she dropped back down.

“Of course, I didn’t know it at the time,” she sighed, a pout on her lips as she took another step forward, “but he never loved me. He was only using me for my power. Do you know what he asked me? He asked me to pluck a star straight from the sky for him, trapping it in a tiny, little stone. I told him that I couldn’t do such a thing, that the stars were meant to stay in the sky where they belonged, but he told me, ‘Thetis, I’ll never leave you if you do this one thing for me.’”

Her eyes fell closed, wistful smile slowly morphing in to fury as she opened her eyes to glare at the captain and the quarter master.

“Of course I know now that he’s a liar,” she spat. “All men do is think of themselves, giving no regard to the ones they hurt along the way. I plucked that star out of the sky, sealing its soul within the gem, and what did he do? He left. Left without so much as a look back. He left me stranded here without a heart while he sailed off to conquer the seas.”

Another smile crept across her face as her intense, dark eyes peered up at the two men in front of her, her chest heaving with glee.

“But I had the last laugh, didn’t I?” She cackled. “I cursed him with the power he wanted, the immortality he wanted. Rule the seven seas he shall, but no glory to his name, only fear and disbelief follows him everywhere he goes. And now I’ll have what’s mine. I’ll take back the soul of Polaris, and he’ll be doomed to his wretched existence!”

She lunged for Jake, long, white fingers outstretched towards his chest where he kept the jewel hidden. He and Javy shouted as they dove out of the way, everyone scrambling to move out of the way as she crashed to the floor.

“Everyone out!” Jake shouted, shoving Javy forward as everyone sprinted for the door, Bradley practically hauling you out the door in his arms as you all stumbled down the stairs, Jake bringing up the rear.

“Get to the boats, now!” He hollered, casting a look over his shoulder. The men who stayed behind didn’t need to be told twice as they launched themselves through the trees, followed closely by the rest of your party. The foliage scratched at your hands and face, a pained hiss leaving your lips as the beach came into view. A few of the men began tossing the stones out of the boats, Bradley and Mickey already working to push them back towards the water. You stumbled as the brush behind you began to tremble and shake, Thetis slinking into view with a murderous look on her face as she watched everyone around her. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down to expose more of her chest, and you let out a gasp, your hands flying to your face at what you saw.

In the spot where her heart should be, a gaping, black hole sat instead. Her eyes landed on you, and a wicked smile pulled on her lips.

“Do you know the price one has to pay to steal a star from the sky?” She asked, voice sickly sweet as she walked closer towards you. “The price one has to pay is their own heart, and I paid it for him. I will get that gem back, and then I’ll trade it for my heart.”

The same overwhelming energy from the jungle beginning to pulsate around you. A wave of ice rushed through you, your hands clawing at your throat as you fought to gain control of your breathing. The men shouted behind you, and you were only vaguely aware of the sound of your name being called. Everything was too bright, too loud again, and your eyes darted around the beach, trying to find some way to calm the frantic beating of your heart as Thetis drew closer to where you stood. A curious expression crossed her face as she watched you, her head tilting to the side with a frown.

“What a strange little thing you are,” she muttered, eyes narrowing at you as she continued to study you. A jolt ran through you, and her eyes widened with a low hiss. “What are you?”

A hand wrapped around your bicep, pulling you backwards, and the sensations stopped as quickly as they started. You turned to see Jake hauling you towards the rowboats, still shouting orders at the men as he glanced over his shoulder at Thetis. A shudder ran through you that filled you with a sense of dread just before a keen filled the air, causing all movement to stop.

The air was so still, that for a moment you wondered if time itself had stopped. The sound of the water lapped at the shore, waves crashing against the calves of the two men who stood in the shallows, hands gripped tight onto the sides of the boats. All eyes scanned the area, but yours remained locked onto Thetis, whose eyes flashed wildly at you as her signature smile crept onto her face. Her lips were pulled so far back, you were surprised the skin didn’t rip to pieces. Her eyes flitted to the water, and it was then that you broke your trance, turning to see a monstrous fin peek out of the water behind one of the men. Another baleful keen sounded, breaking the silence, and you watched the man take a shuddering breath as his eyes landed on yours, just before he was ripped beneath the surface of the water, not a sound heard except for the rippling of displaced water where he once stood.

Your heart hammered in your chest, watching as the too still water now refused to move. The man beside the other boat stared, horrified, at where his companion once stood, his chest rising and falling more and more rapidly as panic seized him. Movement caught your eye, and you watched as the smooth surface of the water rippled leading up to the man just before he too was dragged beneath the surface. A third cry rang out, a song that caused a few of the men’s eyes to glaze over, one starting to walk towards the water in a trance-like state.

“Cover your ears!” Javy shouted, tearing off some of his shirt to quickly plug his ears before sprinting towards the water to try and grab the two row boats that were now slowly drifting away. You watched as the man waded into the water, a dreamy look on his face before he disappeared beneath the surface with a short cry. Several different songs filled the air now, all beautiful and tempting in their ways. Your eyes scanned the small beach, stopping as they rested on the forms of the different women.

They were all beautiful, eyes calculating as they took in the small party around them, their tails floating and swinging in the water as they lay on the rocks. A redhead with upturned, emerald eyes locked sight on Mickey, a sinister smile inching onto her lips as she cooed at him. Her song filled the air, and the curly haired sailor stopped his movements, the same hazy look on his face as the others as he turned to look at her. She smiled at him, reaching her arms out as if to embrace him, and a small smile inched its way onto his lips as he took a small step towards her.

“No!” You shouted, pulling out of Jake’s hold and launching yourself across the sand. Mickey took another step just as you reached him, colliding with him hard enough to almost knock him off his feet. You steadied him as he blinked down at you, confusion warping his features. The siren hissed, her tail splashing the water in anger as she fixed her glare on you.

“What…” He mumbled, brows furrowing down at you. You ripped two pieces off his shirt, shoving them into his ear canals as he balked.

“Don’t take those out!” You shouted at him, eyeing the siren warily. “We need to get everyone out of here. Go!”

Mickey glanced at the siren before looking back at you with a determined nod, turning on his heels to go and help Javy with the boats. You looked around, watching as several of the men slashed their swords through the water, trying desperately to keep the creatures at bay as Javy, Mickey, and Bradley wrestled with the boats. Bradley reached his hand out to help one of the men onto the boat, the vessel rocking violently for a moment before the men managed to steady it.

Your gaze turned to look further up the shore, stopping when they landed on Jake. His back was to you, facing Thetis as she smirked at him.

“Why don’t you just give it to me?” She crooned, head tilted mockingly. “If you give it here, I’ll call them off, and then you can all be on your merry, little way.”

“Even if I believed that,” Jake scoffed, taking a step back, “I wouldn’t give it to you anyway. This treasure is mine for the taking.”

“Jake! Guppy! Let’s go!”

You and Jake both turned to see Javy watching the two of you, distress coloring his handsome features. Your heart dropped at how few of you were left, and you turned back to lock eyes with Jake.

“Let’s go,” you echoed, eyes wide and imploring. He pressed his lips together, casting one last glance at Thetis before backing away towards you. She watched him, dark eyes intense as he reached where you stood. A wave of unease crawled up your spine. There was no way she was letting you leave that easily. Your suspicion was confirmed when a cry reached your ears, a slow smirk pulling on Thetis’s lips.

You turned to see one of the sirens perched on the rocks closest to your group, her tail half submerged in the water. Dark waves of chestnut rolled down her back, matching eyes set against sharp cheekbones and full lips that turned captivated on the man stood behind you. You heard Jake’s breath hitch, and you turned to see the color drain from his face as he stared at the siren with a look of horror. Looking back, you saw her lips pull into a sultry smile, her lips opening as her hand reached out to him.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid,

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing that can console me,

but my jolly sailor bold.”

Her voice sounded of smooth honey, each word dripping from her lips with a promise of satisfaction, and your eyes widened in horror as you felt Jake grow lax, a far away look in his green eyes as he watched her.

“Come all you pretty, fair maids,

whoever you may be.

Who love a jolly sailor bold

who ploughs the raging sea.”

Jake stepped past you slowly, eyes trained on the woman ahead. Her smile grew triumphant as he began to cross the distance, and you lunged after him, grabbing his hand to stop him.

“Jake, stop,” you said firmly, frowning at him. He pulled away from you, too transfixed by the woman in front of him. You followed after him as he continued his pace, the woman coaxing him forward with small cries. You tugged on his shirt, trying to stop him as the crew shouted from the boat, but nothing broke his trance.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid,

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing that can console me

but my jolly sailor bold.”

You whirled forward, putting your body in between the siren and Jake, your hands pressed against his chest as you looked up at him.

“Jake, snap out of it,” you pleaded, tears stinging behind your eyes as you looked up at him. His gaze remained forward, but you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as his brow furrowed slightly. He moved to keep walking forward, but you pressed back against him, burying your face in his chest as you cried out.

“Jake, come on!” You pleaded, fingers curling tightly into his shirt as you pressed back, stopping him from moving any further. The siren snarled behind you, letting out an impatient cry, and you pinched your eyes closed as an unexpected sob tore through you.

“Please,” you muttered, tears now streaming freely down your face. “Please stop. Stay with me.”

A gentle breeze blew past you, the only thing keeping you grounded in the waking nightmare. It cooled the tears that streamed down your face, and the sensation had you burrowing further into Jake. You inhaled, taking in the smell of the leather he wore mixed with the salt of the air that always clung to him.

“You can’t leave me,” you told him. “Please don’t leave me, Jake. I’m begging you. I need you here with me, you idiot.”

You took a steadying breath.

“I didn’t expect to care about you as much as I do, you know. Didn’t think I’d warm up to someone like you. I thought you were a scoundrel and a rake, but that’s just what you want people to think, isn’t it? Really, you’re smart, funny, and you care about the people who love you. I don’t know why you insist on acting like an asshole so often.”

You let out a light chuckle.

“Maybe it’s because you and I are a lot alike, huh? Birds of a feather or something like that. I cling to people so they never leave, and you? You push them away so they never get close enough to hurt you, but I see you, Captain Jake Seresin. I see the man that you are, and I know I’m mad at you right now, but that doesn’t mean I want you to get hurt, so snap out of it and get your pretty, dumb head out of your ass!”

A moment of silence passed before a hand came up to rest on the top of your head. You pulled back just enough to look up at where Jake smiled softly back down at you, a joyful cry falling from your lips.

“You think I’m pretty?” He teased. You rolled your eyes, a new wave of tears streaming down your face as you smiled up at him.

“I believe I said ‘pretty dumb,’” you shot back.

“This is all very touching,” Mickey hollered, and the two of you turned to look at where the others waited, “but if you two don’t mind, I’d like to get the hell out of here right about now.”

You grimaced as Jake snorted, the two of you moving to make a run for the boat. Jake paused, casting one last hesitant look back at the siren who watched him with rage brewing in her eyes. His lips pressed firmly together before he turned his back on her, eyes locking on where you stood just before him, your hand outstretched to him. He slid his hand into yours, allowing you to guide him towards the boat.

The two of you clambered in, wary of the surrounding water where several sirens still circled dangerously below, the only thing keeping them at bay being the swords drawn and ready to attack whatever may poke above the surface.

A strange feeling overcame you, a sense of warning, and you drew your sword, whirling around to point it at Thetis, whose throat now sat just at the tip of your sword, her chin turned up to avoid the blade. Her eyes danced with humor as she regarded you, your face twisted into a snarl.

“My, aren’t you just full of surprises?” She chortled. “You’ll be a fine addition to our little family one day.”

“That’s never going to happen,” you sneered, earning a chuckle.

“We’ll see about that,” she smiled, eyes flickering to look behind you. “That gem will be mine one day, you know. I’ll get it back one way or another.”

“One day, maybe,” Jake conceded from behind you, “but not today.”

Something dangerous flashed in her eyes, but Thetis took a step back away from the tip of your blade.

“We’ll be taking our leave now, if you don’t mind,” you said evenly, sword still pointed in her direction. She raised a brow at you, but dipped her head in surrender. Bradley and Mickey each used their oar to push off from the shallows, letting the boat float into open water and away from the isle, the siren songs following you all the way back to the ship.

“What happened?” Nat asked as what was left of your exploring party set foot on deck. Jake’s shoulders were slumped as the adrenaline wore off, weariness gripping him like a vice as he made his way towards the cabins with you close behind.

“Not now, Nat. Please,” he sighed. She looked like she wanted to argue, but stopped as Javy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder with a shake of his head. You placed a reassuring hand on Jake’s back as the two of you passed through the door and into the hallway, quickly making it into Jake’s quarters. You sat down on the bed, scooting back until your back hit the wall behind you. Jake collapsed beside you, and you opened your arms for him to make a home if he wanted. He gave you a grateful smile as he collapsed onto the bed, arranging himself so that his head rested on your chest, faced pressed into your neck. You wove your hands through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp as the two of you sat in silence.

“It was her, wasn’t it? The siren that sang to you?” You asked him, voice barely above a whisper. He stiffened in your hold before relaxing with a tired sigh.

“Yes,” he nodded, not pulling away from you. You nodded in understanding, feeling the exhaustion from the day start to settle in your bones. You hesitated for a moment before swallowing around the lump in your throat.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Jake didn’t say anything for a long moment, and for a second you wondered if he had fallen asleep.

“Her name was Kate,” he murmured into your neck, so quiet that you almost didn’t hear him. “She was the daughter of a blacksmith and a housemaid in Georgia. I met her just after I was given control of the Hangman by the previous captain. I thought she was so beautiful, but I was nineteen when we met, and I wasn’t looking to settle down, especially not after having just become a captain of my own ship. I wanted to explore the world first, and I told her that from the beginning. We had our fun, and she became a dear friend to me.”

He took a shuddering breath before continuing.

“I only knew her the one year, Guppy. She was funny, smart, and kind. I counted her as one of my closest friends for what it was worth. I only saw her a handful of times in that year, but I guess something changed for her. On my last visit, she confessed that she had fallen in love with me, and wanted me to stay with her to start a life together.”

You waited with bated breath for him to continue as his hold on you tightened slightly, like you might run away.

“I told her that I didn’t love her the same way, that she was just a friend in my heart. I was twenty years old, Guppy, I didn’t know that-”

A sob wracked through him, and you felt his tears dampen the material of your shirt as his shoulders shook. You held him a little tighter, still running your fingers through his hair as he cried. Finally, he calmed enough to continue.

“I knew she was upset, and I tried to comfort her, but she told me she needed time alone, needed time to think. I thought that was the least I could do for her seeing as I had just turned down a life with her. And then two night later she-”

Silence filled the cabin, the only sound to be heard was the crashing of the waves against the ship as it rocked side to side.

“You know the rest,” he muttered. “I understand if you hate me for it, hell, I hate me for it, and that’s why I didn’t tell you in the first place. I couldn’t bear the thought of you not being able to look at me or looking at me like I’m some kind of monster. If I had just stayed with her, she’d still be alive and none of this would be happening, and-”

You pushed him back, bringing your hands down to cup his face as he looked at you with sorrowful, red-rimmed eyes. He looked like a kicked puppy, eyes glossy with unshed tears and lips pressed tight like he was barely holding himself together. Your thumb stroked his cheek as you sighed, pressing your own lips into a thin line.

“Jake,” you cooed, “that wasn’t your fault. We can’t expect people to love us in the way that we want and then get upset when they don’t. Love isn’t transactional, it’s just freely given. You can’t force yourself to feel in a way that you don’t.”

A tear ran down his cheek and you leaned forward to kiss it away, his eyes falling shut as you did so.

“Kate made her choices,” you sighed, “however misguided they were. You have to learn to forgive yourself.”

Jake opened his eyes to look at you, lips parting as if he were going to say something before closing them once more. You offered him a sympathetic smile before hugging him closer to you.

Grief and guilt often went hand in hand, dancing together in a waltz of what-ifs and I-should-haves. Both were almost always illogical in how they made one feel or what they made one do. They didn’t care about what they consumed, only concerned with taking and overwhelming.

Forgiveness was the light at the end of the tunnel that promised salvation, and by forgiving Jake, perhaps you could start to forgive yourself for the things that happened. You sighed, once again running your fingers through Jake’s hair as exhaustion pulled him into the depths of sleep. Forgiveness was almost never easy, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

A/N: Oof! What a chapter, huh? Anyway, I'll be putting a pin in this series for a second while I work on a writing challenge, but hopefully that won't take me too long to finish, and I can start updating this again! Also, gentle reminder that I no longer do tag lists! If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog: @arcanevagabond-library and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[wonkawinka]

we’ll meet again

“we’ll meet again… don’t know where, don’t know when…”

alastor x angel!daughter!reader

CHAPTER TWO: smile like you mean it!

— — CHAPTER THREE: weak ankles!

warnings/notes: EPISODE 6 SPOILERS! not proof read, no use of y/n, used she/her pronouns, reader is on the fem side, maybe vaggie x reader and maybe emily x reader if you squint but its all platonic

chère- french for dear

remercier dieu- french for thank god

court reporter- someone who transcribes everything said during a court meeting

wc: 2336

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

ROLLER skates. flashy lights. bursting colors. street jazz at every corner. twists and turns.

NEW ORLEANS had it all. all you could need in your heart. soft, live jazz rung through the tiny diner that everyone got their morning coffee from. skating through the diner, you tipped your hat from one couple to another. there was the occasional (and by occasional you mean somewhat often) jerk who flirts with you, a teenager, but you brush it off.

ever since the stock market crash of 1929, people have been living off the hook ‘round these parts. you were lucky enough to snag a job, let alone have a father that's able to put food on the table for you.

the bell of the door rings exactly at 9:01 am, you don’t even need to turn around to check who it is.

“good mornin’ ladies! fine morning today, isn’t it?” alastor’s voice rang through the diner, sound waves bouncing the walls and into your ears. his presence was certainly not something anyone would miss. your coworkers nodded in agreement, saying their tiny welcomes, the occasional giggle for one of them.

pouring out straight black coffee into a medium sized cup, you skated towards the counter and slipped your dad a napkin and his cup.

“mornin’ papa.” you said with a smile, taking his coins and filing it into the register.

“good morning, my dear!” he said with his chipper smile, one that made the men grumble and ladies swoon, but it just made you happy to see your father happy. “day treating you well, i hope.”

he took the coffee and took a sip. a sound of satisfaction left his lips “perfection! you know me so well, chère.”

“pa, you drink the blackest coffee on earth. it’s not hard to mess up, dontcha think?”

“ah, don’t sass me now, little miss. i’ll have you know this is the best coffee i’ve had since yesterday mornin’!”

“i made that coffee yesterday morning.”

“hmmm, did you now? seems i dont remember…” he grinned teasingly, pushing up his glasses in ‘thought’.

“yeah, course ya’ dont, ya old man.” teasing back, slipping him a slice of pie “i know you didnt eat, pops, cant have ya flopping dead during your morning show. who knows, maybe the cannibal will getcha. then i’ll have to take over the show.”

he smirked at her words, ha, if only she knew.

“well, aren’t you the sweetest little thing?” he said, taking the to-go box from her hands.

“well, you raised me, so you tell me.” you smiled brightly

his laughter rang through the diner, and soon yours as their vocals mixed together in a medley of sounds. they nearly mixed together perfectly. nearly.

some people looked at you weirdly, but you both never really minded. everyone in town knew you were his daughter and everyone in town knew he was your father. the talk of the town, especially when people found out your father of all people adopted you all those years ago.

he smiled at you wholeheartedly, something you only get to receive from him. “thats my girl.” his hand cupped your face, thumb brushing against the skin.

you placed your hand on top of his and smiled. “love ya’, pa.”

“love you more, my dear.”

you patted his hand, signing him to let go. “now shoo, before you’re actually late. you got an audience waiting for you all ‘round the area. can’t have them sitting for too long, hm?”

with a tip of his head, he bidded you and the ladies of the diner farewell, grabbing his coffee and pie, slipping out the door.

one of your coworkers called out your name “hunny, you better help a girl out! is your fatha’ up for grabs?” she giggled, winking at you.

“oh hush, lonnie! that's my dad..!”

——————— PRESENT.

“OH, don’t worry, it’s really not that hard! you just flip the book and let them in! see? simple.” st. peter directed you to the golden podium of the pearly white gates.

“are you sure i’m even allowed to do this? look.. i’m happy to help. i just don’t wantcha to get in trouble with the Seraphims.” you floated down onto the podium, scanning the big book of entries.

“it wouldn’t be for long! thank you so much, by the way. you really are heaven’s little helper, huh?” he elbowed you and gave that big smile he had. it was almost blinding. literally.

“haha, yeahhh… if you say so.” you turned and flipped through the pages for what seemed to endlessly go on.

“who names their kid breakfast?”

“now, now, we dont go and judge what those humans name their offspring!” he placed his two hands on your shoulders in reassurance. you cock an eyebrow at his word choice, but next thing you know hes already flying off to do who knows what. ‘saintly duties.’

“huh.” you continued to flip through the pages to examine the very odd name choices, nodding at some and… skipping through others.

minutes, maybe even hours went by until sudden echoes from down the golden pathway filled your ears. they shoot up in reaction to the newfound sound.

“uhhh, heelloooo? helloooo!” the blonde hair girl called out

“hiya!,” you call out , “how may i help ya’? well, getting into heaven i guess, huh?” you laughed at yourself, watching the girl’s nerves calm down a bit. behind her was a recognizable individual. you know, it nearly looked like vagg—

“OH— uh, uh, uh— hello! my name is charlie morningstar. heh.”

“alright, lets see…” you flipped through the alphabetized record only to find every name known to man BUT a charlie morningstar.

panic fills your core when you cant find it, scanning the page over and over and over again to no avail.

“uhhhh, you see, slight problem, hun...” you start, throwing in a name to ease her name. “i, uhm, can’t find your name… but you know! the trek all the way to the uh, other place, is a long way. maybe i can like… sneak ya’ in—”

“OH, no, no, THAT won’t be necessary. uh— see, my dad got me this meeting, so maybe try lucifer… morningstar..”

THAT CERTAINLY RANG A BELL.

“OH, uh.. uhuh.” you nod “i see.” you nod quicker. your eyes darted to the gray haired girl who looked at you with the same tense expression.

“i think there may have been a, um..” you put your hands together “mishap… but i am SURE it is a just BIG misunderstanding, haha!”

a mighty voice called out to you, one that could shake all of heaven’s foundation.

“remercier dieu…” you say, quite literally.

“don’t worry, we can take it from here.” sera’s voice reassured, the normal call smile present on her face. you bowed your head in respect which she kindly returns.

behind her was an excited emily which shot you an ecstatic wave. her smile was about to explode with happiness which only grew more as she approached charlie, the princess of hell.

st. peter pops out of nowhere and of course, starts singing his welcome song.

see, you didnt think it was bad, it was quite good, but hearing it over and over again for the past century really takes a toll on your ears.

after his musical number, em is basically ready to explode into a pile of rainbows and sparkles. “oh, oh! i gotta show you! the zoo, the petting zoo, the aquarium, the- the EVERYTHING!”

her and charlie jump for joy as they start running off.

“oh come on, do we need to ru— yEUP okay.” you’re dragged along the crossfire, em tugging on your wrist.

you catch a glimpse of adam and lute. they did not seem… very ecstatic.

hm.

“em. emily. emmy. e.” you bring her to the stop. her happiness was contagious, a sickness, her happiness basically flooding into your veins.

“i know you’re excited, sugar,” you start, “but maybe, i show them their room first. how's that sound?”

with some reluctance, emily allows you to guide the two girls to their temporary room.

“here, let me get that—” with an easy spell you learned, you pick up their bags weightlessly.

“follow me, i’ll show ya your room.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

on the way there, you’re bombarded with questions from the princess. not that you were complaining of course, you found it quite endearing.

“wow, your sprinkles have RAINBOWS in them?!”

“yup, those are just rainbow sprinkles,” you chuckle lightly at her innocent excitement, “so.. about this hazbin hotel you were talkin’ about, mrs. morningstar…”

“oh, please, call me charlie!”

“charlie,” you smiled ,”i really do love the idea. quite innovative! you have my support. do you already have people staying?”

“oh, we only have.. two residents. but we do have lovelt staff! we have a maid.. nifty, she’s harmless, most of the time.. and a bar-tender, husker, he’s great, grumpy, but great! vaggie, my lovely girlfriend keeps the hotel safe,” she smiles brightly at her partner, “oh, and our host, alastor! he’s uh.. the radio demon, BUT HE MEANS WELL! i think.”

the name rung in your mind, bouncing off the walls and causing them to shoot jolts through your head. it was like a migraine, but worse. radio demon. it was strikingly familiar resemblance to your father (father?), but who knows! there are probably many alastors that loved radio.

“i see,” you nod, “well i wish you luck on the growth of your hotel.” you opened the entrance of there room and landed their bags perfectly in the corner.

“wow, okay, i LOVE heaven! everythings so clean and nice! AHH, and emilys going to bring me to a zoo where everythings fluffy and soft!” you zone out the rest of their conversation before charlie bids her goodbye.

“safe travels, charlie.” you bow your head in respect, earning a giggle from the princess.

“thank you sososososo much for your help! heh, alright SEE YOU LATER!”

silence filled the room.

“vaggie.” you started, not bothering to around and fully face her. “knew that was you, cant hide from me under all that hair. looks good, though.”

“uhhhhhhhhhhh—” she says your name in a frantic manner, causing you to cock your eyebrow “ah, fuck, i can’t think of an excuse.”

“look, vaggie, i dont know.” you sigh “you disappear for your ‘yearly outing’ to god knows where then you go missing for years, now you come back to be dating lucifer’s daughter.”

“i know, i’m so—“

“no no, don’t apologize. i get it. im happy for ya, vags, but damn, years. i dont know what you do on that one day, but adam and lute didnt seem very happy when they saw ya today.” pinching the bridge of your nose, you turned to her.

“look, adam tried recruiting me to god knows what when you went missing. said i got good aim or something. im just telling ya to be smart. i got no idea what he was trying to do with me, so im telling ya’ to not give in to that prick. i’ll be at todays meeting; i work as the court reporter.”

she pondered your statement for a bit, snapping out of her thoughts once you handed her the room key. you offered her a smile, which she hesitantly returned.

“ah, come on, smile like you mean it! though a smile may not mean everything, you’re never fully dressed without one.” that phrase rang in vaggie’s ears. that was oddly familiar.

a little too familiar.

it was your time to bid farewell, but before you did, she called out to you.

“thank you.”

“ah, don’t mention it. we’re friends, arent we?”

and with that you shut the door.

— — — — — — — — — — —

SCRIBBLING. writing. swirls of ink as you titled the paper in preparation. COURT ISSUE 36789127. it made you think, whos counting all these issues?

“WHAT’S UUUP, BA-BY!” the annoying ring of adam’s voice filled the court room. he was like a toddler, ironic as he is the oldest human soul known to mankind. he was mankind. a sick joke for it too.

every little thing he said you were required to write down, even if it was a dumb, immature response.

“we are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into heavenly realm by the means of this Hazbin Hotel… Princess Morningstar?”

the blonde takes a stand and clears her throat,

“Webster’s Dictionary defined redemption as—”

you scribbled that down.

“..incredible progress..”

scribble.

“… the porn demon …!”

scribble.

“well, if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?”

that puts a halt in the discussion, causing you to lift your head and wait for an answer. she had a point. how did you get here in the first place?

a copy of adam’s terms were presented to your table: act selfless, don’t steal, stick it to the man.

well damn, if those were the terms, even your father (father?) would be in heaven, right now.

evidence was presented, words have been thrown, objections were made. the endless back and forth of right and wrong being thrown around the courtroom. not even the written word could convey the thick tension lathering the walls of the heavenly court.

all the evidence weights to charlie’s side, and yet, the judges say otherwise.

“wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?”

this sparks a musical entrance from emily which you would say was surprising, but you would be lying to yourself.

good thing i took band and choir you thought. perfect pitch came in handy as you noted every chord and pitch in your work.

at this point, you were ready to combust. it was clear who won but the rulers of heaven seemed adamant to keep it from happening. it was suspicious, ironic even.

“..don’t you care, sera…”

scribble.

“..just because someone was dead..”

scribble.

“he blew the shot like the cocks in his…”

scribble.

“..come down and exterminate you..”

your quill snaps in half as you look up from your paper. extermination.

murder.

genocide.

from heaven itself.

[guardianofrivendell]

If you do requests, I would love a Fili one! Specifically, his hobbit gf who has short hair tells him she’s going to grow it out so that he can finally put it in braids <33

A/N: this was such a cute request, thank you so much for sending it in (and your patience!)! Hope you like it!

Fíli x fem!hobbit (unnamed) OC

Requested: obviously

Warnings: just lots of teeth rotting fluff I guess?

Word count: 753 words

Always yours

“You’re staring again,” she said without taking her eyes off the page of her book. As handsome and charming as her companion was, the story she was reading was too intriguing and she really wanted to know what the heroine would do next. 

But there came no response to her comment and eventually her curiosity got the best of her. She peeked over the edge of the paper, straight into the bright blue eyes of her intended.

“See? I knew I was right,” she teased with a smile. 

Fíli chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest, making her smile even wider. There truly wasn’t a lovelier sound.

“Such beauty as yours is meant to be admired, ibrizinlêkhê, you cannot fault me for doing so.”

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she resumed her reading, a blush colouring her cheeks at the given praise. Even after months of courting she still wasn’t used to the numerous compliments Fíli showered her with. 

“Your hair’s getting quite long,” Fíli commented as he let his fingers glide through her deep brown curls. “I suppose it’s almost time to cut it again.”

She didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice, even though she knew he’d tried to hide it. She usually let her curls grow until it reached her shoulders, or until it was at ‘proper Hobbit-length’ as she’d always say, before the scissors would appear. Even though Fíli knew hair wasn’t as important to Hobbits as it was to Dwarrows, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness every time his future wife took out the scissors. 

But now it almost brushed her collarbones, the longest it had ever been and Fíli loved it. How the curls danced around her face as she was running around the kitchen, cooking yet another feast, or how they framed her perfectly round face as she was engrossed in one of her books, shielding her from prying eyes. His fingers itched to braid her auburn locks, to take three strands and weave them together, following an all-too-familiar pattern, sealing it with a bead containing his sigil and making her truly his in the eyes of Mahal. But he respected her too much, and the last thing he would want for her was to abandon her own culture. 

“About that…” she began, pulling him out of his thoughts. She went to the heavy wooden chest of drawers, took something out of the top drawer and placed it in his hand with a shy smile. A pair of scissors.

Fíli’s eyes went wide at the suggestion. “You cannot ask me to… I can’t-” 

He loved her with all his heart, she was his whole world without any doubt, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do if she asked him to, but this request was really pushing his limits. 

The Hobbit girl laughed, her giggles like tiny bells in the evening breeze, and she folded her small hands around his large one holding the scissors, closing it with an encouraging squeeze. 

“I don’t want you to use them,” she reassured him, “I want you to keep them, since I have no need for them anymore.”

Fíli stared at her, his features twisted in confusion, before he realised what it meant. He dropped the scissors and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, the book she was reading toppling to the ground but neither of them noticed. As he let go of her, his hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, brushing a strand of hair out of her face with his thumb.  

“I know how important this is to you, and your kin. You’ve done so many things to make me feel at home. So I decided I wanted to grow out my hair, long enough for you to braid it. And I think we’re there, don’t you?”

Fíli positively beamed with happiness, blinking a few times as if he couldn’t believe what had just occurred. He closed the already small distance between them with a small tug, and kissed her hard, a kiss full of passion and promises and want. 

As they separated, both catching their breaths, he took something out of his pocket, and opened his hand, revealing a silver bead. “I’ve carried this with me ever since we started courting, but I never thought... Ibrizinlêkhê, would you do me the honour of letting me braid your hair?”

She smiled, her eyes a little teary at the sheer happiness and nodded.

“Always.”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata18033 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @the-banannah @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @elvish-sky @moony-artnstuff @kirenia15 @vicmackeybullshxt @hey-its-nonny @beenovel @cassiabaggins @shethereadinghobbit @justfollowtheroad @laurfilijames @fizzyxcustard @brokennerdalert @linasofia @naimadrawsstuff @errruvande-2-0 @amaryllis23 @enchantzz @narniaandthenorth @sketch-and-write-lover @blairsanne @ruthoakenshield @midearthwritings @alone19-24 @medusas-hairband @ren-ni @kyramaximoff @megnotfound @middleearthpixie @aduialel @tree0frog @trappedinlimbo15 @brethil13

Fíli taglist: @bluewingedangel @spidergirla5 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @clumsy-wonderland @i-always-come-back-xoxo

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗two

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ3k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three

“Did he just call you, darling?” you jump at the voice behind you as soon as you leave the room.

You slowly turn around, praying and hoping it is not one of your employees but you are met with a tall man wearing round glasses. His hair is brown-black with blue shades at the ends and honestly, it suits him well.

Your eyes form an obvious question mark as he grins lightly offering his hand and says, “Hi, I am Song Mingi, Joongie’s assistant and friend.”

“Joongie?” you question him as he slightly racks his head not understanding why you are so lost, before realising his own mistake.

“Oh I meant Mr. Kim,” he clarifies as you nod your head rapidly and shake his hand. He offers a light smile before asking again, “The ‘darling’ matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, your Mr. Kim has a habit of flirting as you already know probably,” you reply with an easy-going smile. Mingi looks like a soft person with all that height which you find very endearing.

“I guess so,” he replies quietly before bowing as you bow back and he takes his leave inside the room where Hongjoong is.

You bit your lips trying to resist a smile as you walk back slowly towards your own office.

Mingi narrows his eyes and enters the room to assist Hongjoong keeping a mental note to ask when he has ever flirted with anyone that deeply. He forgets. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

“What’s got you giggling so much like a teenager?” Seonghwa groans as you roll your eyes. If he wasn’t your friend from college you would never have his nagging ass around. Okay, maybe his organising and cleaning abilities are like yours too. Overly frantic!

“Did you know Kim has a sexy but cutie assistant?” you ask him as he narrows your eyes at you.

“No, I didn’t, is this because of him?” he asks pointing at your smiley face.

“Maybe,” you sang lightly, pushing yourself back into the chair as Seonghwa let out another sigh.

Your happiness is short-lived as your office door swings open and Hongjoong walks in with some sheets of paper in his hand. You abruptly pull your giggling self up and sit straight, staring at him with daggers in your eyes.

“Have you ever heard of, oh I don’t know, knocking?” you scream the last part of the sentence. Nonchalantly removing his beret, he put it down on your table before thrusting his sheets towards you.

“Zip it, princess, you weren’t doing anything highly confidential,” he replies.

“How do you know that?” you retort, your mind fogging with clouds of anger at the pet name. Princess, darling, what’s next sweetheart? You are getting extremely impatient at this man now.

Seonghwa pops a biscuit in his mouth which he had stolen from the tea that was served to you and watches the increasing banter amusingly unfold between the two of you.

“I know because your room blinder is up, princess,” he replies smirking as a horrifying look crosses your face. Your blinders are up, that means-

“Yes, I saw you kicking your feet in the air and giggling like a teenage girl around her crush,” he deadpans as you groan, slumping your head back down on the table.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong doesn’t further probe into the topic, except throwing an amused smile your way. He clears his throat lightly and says, “Those papers contain the designs I have made, ask your models if they are comfortable with wearing them.”

You look up, scrunching your eyebrows at him as he gives you a non-plus look on his face. You look down at the papers with his words replaying in your mind. No designer has ever cared for what the models want, let alone asking them after making designs.

“Wait, you made these in a week?” you quiz looking at the eleven sheets of paper as he shrugs but you continue, “And I think you counted wrong, there are ten models, four male and six female.” Your eyes stick to a design inside that was an upgraded version of the gown you had gawked at on the first day he came. The colour also is changed to lilac from baby blue.

“Oh, my mistake,” he says swiftly and you nod, looking at the other designs. The way he had made the bold designs look strikingly different and the softer designs look oddly extraordinary using elements from various places made you speechless.

“You’re talented as hell,” you whisper out accidentally and then hope and pray he didn’t catch that or else the teasing for the next one and a half months will be endless.

“What was that again?” he asks playfully as you scoff biting back the smile and trying to hit your face.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

Photoshoot days make you extremely nervous. What if a model falls sick? What if a light breaks down? What if even one camera starts to malfunction? And the worst fear of all, what if the outfit design gets ruined?

It makes you more nervous than models and you have absolutely no idea why. Seonghwa had once said it was because you knew how once when the company under your dad almost went bankrupt because a minister’s daughter threatened to sue the company for molestation accusations. Even though the truth was that she was the one flirting around, the fear on your dad’s face that day showed you how the world works.

You tap your feet impatiently waiting for the shoot to start and soon you feel another presence beside you. Seonghwa was talking with the photographers in front and Hongjoong was out there fixing and checking the model’s outfit for the last time. You looked beside you and saw the handsome man, Song Mingi standing.

“Oh hello,” you greet bowing and he bows back and your mind flashes back to the first meeting with Hongjoong where he had thrown all formalities out the window.

“Are you okay? Your hands are shaking badly and you are fidgeting,” Mingi says his deep voice messing up your brain.

“Yeah,” you breathe out throwing a smile his way and looking in his eyes. Beautiful hair, brown eyes, tall, deep voice, respectful, and observant nature- could he be any more perfect? How did a devil like Hongjoong end up having an angel for his personal assistant?

The love song playing in your head suddenly made a screeching record sound as Hongjoong’s annoying tone cut through the air, “Mingi can you please check the models whilst I keep notes from here beside the director and our very beautiful CEO- nim?”

You take in a sharp breath as you see Mingi leaving and before you could even open your mouth he whispers, “Damn, if you stare at him with those heart eyes, his girlfriend will kill you.”

“He has a girlfriend?” you say it louder than you expect, looking at him in shock and unfortunately for you, a few of the sound and light officials look at you with questioning eyes.

You give them a small smile gaining back your cool before looking at a smirking Hongjoong saying, “You are not very subtle, are you?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you grit out and turned to look at the photoshoot that started already.

“Make me,” Hongjoong teases as you glare at him with fire in your eyes. Shouldn’t he be paying attention to the models? Or does he trust Mingi that much, yes, of course, everyone should trust that beautiful boy, and no, he has a girlfriend, you have to stop thinking about him.

“Look at that, I am so handsome that you can’t keep your eyes off me,” Hongjoong grins as you gasp. How dare he?

“In your dreams, Kim,”

“I dream about a lot of things.”

“Oh god.”

“You say that in my dreams too.”

You whip your head at him watching his lopsided smile and scoff. “Seriously?” you ask with disbelief evident in your face. Your ears felt like burning at the outrageous comment he just made. Like it has been a month only.

“Control your hormones, Kim, you ain’t a teen,” you reply as he cocks his eyebrows at you.

Slowly he leans in as you widen your eyes and try to go back but the camera stand leg hits your shoe. He looks into your eyes once before whispering, “Trust me, I am controlling myself a lot.”

He moves away, eyes fixing on the monitoring screen as you look into the distance. Your breath still feels erratic, his words repeating in your brain like some kind of spell. In all that whispering you believe he had glanced at your lips for just a fraction of a second, but surely you were tripping.

Not in this universe did Kim Hongjoong look at your lips.

And you definitely did not like that jerk of a human.

You did not.

Even if he makes you feel breathless.

You did not. Maybe it’s a thing that will pass. He just looked good today. Maybe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

After the shooting day, your schedules with Hongjoong had increased. The pictures have been released and blown up instantly. Various private and public interviews, press conferences, and media highlights kept the two of you busy. Most of the conferences had you two in the centre, speaking from both sides of the story.

Seonghwa made you write the words you will say under his surveillance because according to him you were “too stubborn” and “will say shit indirectly about Hongjoong” in your speech if he did not keep it under check.

You would not go that far you assured him, but he just would not trust you. Such a mom.

The same speech you repeated over and over again, changing the way of saying it in every interview. The words you had written weren’t a lie at all. You did find him talented and his designs out of the box but that fed his ego way too much.

He would ask you a question in every interview for example, “Oh you found that thing I used different, I see” or a “Well, of course, you liked it” and indulge in what the interviews called ‘playful banter’ as you would give him murderous look and he would just smile.

The week had ended quickly and you knew how the next few weeks you had to be busy again for the upcoming show and ramp-walk in Paris. You huff out a short breath as you silently clean up your office desk. Today's interview took an increasingly long time, and you just want to go home and dip yourself in a hot bath.

You zip up the chain of your handbag and redo the lipstick a bit before checking the mirror and applying some foundation under your eyes. You never know where cameras are and you certainly don’t want to be caught in any other state other than the “always fresh” or else articles are just a picture away.

Suddenly you hear a slight knock and think it is the security before letting out a forced but cheerful, “Come in.”

You turn around as your eyes meet the person you didn’t know could knock. “Did you learn how to knock? Also, I am tired, why are you here now?” you groan as looks at you with one eyebrow raised.

“Chill, I just wanted to drop by, I finished the paperwork and saw your light was on,” he replies as you shake your head.

“Always keeping a lookout for me or what?” you joke and he doesn’t answer choosing to smile instead and look sideways.

"I did think you would get me a binder for designing the clothes too?" Hongjoong asks and cheekily smiles before adding, "Darling." You roll your eyes at him, a stark contrast coming to your usual composed and calm behaviour as a CEO, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

You turn around in your heels ready to leave when he calls out, "Close the drawer on your left, darling."

Oh for fu- heaven's sake!

"Don't call me that," you nearly snarl at him and an innocent-looking smile etch his face as he comes closer to you and you stare back wishing your eyes could bore holes in his body.

He is simply insufferable.

"But you like it, when I call you that," his tone hints at light mocking as he continues, "Loosens up your uptight behaviour." You gasp at him feeling a bit offended and whisper out, "I hate you."

"Do you now?" he presses his lips together, loving how you are riling up. He has always loved to rile you up, balancing his comments well so that they don't become offensive but do tease you and he has been having an excellent time doing it.

He has a pretty face, your mind registers and your eyes lock with him, silently agreeing with your mind. He does have it, with his long lashes, two-toned hair falling on his forehead and soft lip- What is wrong with you?

You visibly shake out of your trance when you realise how close you and Hongjoong have come while talking.

Hongjoong's breath traces on your face and the room falls quiet with silent anticipation and even though your eye might be playing tricks but you did notice him steal a quick glance at your lips before looking up at your eyes again. Your breath feels slow and your eyes roam over his face and the moment feels like forever and somewhere in the back of your mind you wish it does.

The trance is broken as Hongjoong's phone rings and he jerks muttering a silent curse before moving away and picking it up while you widen your eyes and scurry out of the room.

What the hell just happened?

You pick up your bag and he turns around, walking out the door while you lock your office door since Seonghwa left early. You both had a quiet elevator ride, his familiar deodorant filling up the closed space. Neither of you talk nor would look at each other.

You feel thankful about it because god knows what you have spewed if you did. Walking outside you fish out your phone to book a cab while he takes out his keys.

“Woah, how did Miss Organised forget her car keys?” he giggles as you look at him glaring playfully. Of course, he is back to normal.

“I didn’t forget it, I gave it to my cousin earlier who wanted to impress a girl,” you breathe out as you remember his pleading face and promise to bring you as his plus one to a football match he is invited to.

Not that you can’t buy your own tickets, but going for free is always a different kind of fun.

“That is so old-school,” Hongjoong scoffs as you let out a laugh.

“Maybe, but he is eighteen, so I let him be,” you grin and then look back at your phone to see several car symbols roaming around the location.

“Well, I will drop you off,” Hongjoong voices out before he can stop himself and he is himself surprised when your head whips towards him.

“What if you kill me and dump me somewhere? I can’t trust you,” you gasp dramatically and he rolls his eyes.

“Please, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the day you hogged up half my pudding in the changing room,” he reasons.

“I was hungry and it was not half,” you whine as he stares at you.

“It was half, and no, do not say the piece between quarter and half, ‘cause it was half,” he shut you up raising his fingers and putting them on your parted lips.

He stares at your figure which is only slightly shorter than him as you stare back before he coughs and pulls his hands back and you look away licking your lips.

“Do you want the lift or not?” he asks again after a few seconds as you decide there is no harm in accepting help from him anyway. So you nod your head to a yes and you both head towards his car.

The car ride is mostly silent, a soft Lany song playing from the radio as you look out at the city lights lighting up the way. You felt them glittering the highway as Hongjoong followed the route you had explained earlier.

You look back at Hongjoong driving, the wind hitting his parted hair and the white part shining lightly under the streetlights. Okay, maybe he did make that work well. You see he has changed, probably in his office, you figured, and was just wearing a simple hoodie over the same jeans.

“Can’t take your eyes off me?” Hongjoong teases you without even glancing and you narrow your eyes at him before looking away as he giggles lightly.

“Do you ever stop talking?” you retort and he steals a quick glance at you before eyeing the road again.

“Do you ever stop being uptight?” he asks.

“Yes, sometimes I just want to leave all these and drive away anywhere my mind takes me to,” you sigh looking away and seeing the blinking traffic lights.

“I thought you didn’t like being spontaneous,” he adds on, though his tone had become increasingly softer compared to the earlier teasing and you look down at your hands.

“It’s not that easy, you know?” you reply as he hums lowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

After some moments of quiet pondering you look at him. You felt your brain function abnormally as you couldn’t help but find him ethereal as the orange streetlights lightened up his face. Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation that made your heart beat faster and let your eyes linger long on his side profile and his eyes that were trained on the road ahead.

Suddenly you say, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. loving it rn lolol .ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi

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[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 48

Louise went downstairs after having a quick shower in the main bathroom, Chris went in after her. They figured it wasn’t a good idea to shower together or they’d never end up leaving.

Claire and Loki had the same idea, so Claire showered first then went downstairs.

Louise was sitting in the kitchen at the island counter. She laughed when Claire walked in, though she was walking like John Wayne…

‘Jesus, what did Loki do to you?’ Louise laughed.

‘Let’s just say, my body can stretch in ways I didn’t realise… I should probably start doing yoga.’ She groaned and sat down opposite Louise.

‘Oh dear.’ Louise sniggered. ‘Mind if I grab a coffee?’

‘Of course, help yourself… Though would you mind making me one, too?’

‘Sure.’ Louise hopped off the chair and got to making them both a coffee. Then when she went back over to sit down, she winced as she sat.

‘Never mind what happened to me… What did Chris do to you?’ Claire asked with a smirk.

‘Let’s just say… his hand and my ass have a very loving relationship.’ Louise said with a little blush.

‘Ohhh, kinky.’ Claire laughed.

‘Oh, you have no idea.’ Louise giggled.

‘Did he bite you?’ Claire asked as she sipped her coffee.

‘Yep. Not too much blood taken though. You?’

‘Same.’ Claire smirked.

‘That was so exciting. I loved the thrill of being chased by him, it was strange feeling like I actually needed to run away. Part of me wanted to be caught but another part of me didn’t.’ Louise said excitedly.

‘Yeah, it’s a fun sort of roleplay, huh?’ Claire asked knowingly. ‘Though I guess not really roleplay since their instincts wouldn’t have let them not chase us.’

‘I think it’s that borderline reality yet something that’s quite… unnatural? I don’t know. Either way, it was so exciting. Though I still feel conflicted for being turned on seeing him… kill someone.’ Louise admitted.

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. They were bad people though, it’s not like they were innocent humans.’ Claire said softly.

‘True.’ Louise nodded. ‘Hey, is Loki obsessed with your neck?’

Claire frowned and pondered a minute. ‘Mmm, not obsessed. He does kiss it often, I guess. Why?’

‘Chris seems to be obsessed with my neck, always putting his hand around it or at the back. Even if we’re just kissing. I love it, don’t get me wrong. I was just curious if it was a vampire thing or just a Chris thing.’

‘Probably a Chris thing. Though I know Loki does love biting me there, more than anywhere else. It might just be that.’ Claire shrugged.

‘I bet one of the first things Chris does when he comes down is put his hand on my neck in some way.’ Louise laughed.

‘Yeah? Let’s see then.’ Claire laughed too. ‘I suspect Loki will poke me or tickle me. He’s always doing that.’

‘Really? Chris is always tickling me, must be something in their blood.’

‘Totally must be.’ Claire nodded. ‘Let’s see what happens first, sounds like they’re both coming down.’

Claire and Louise tried to put on a straight face and they went quiet, focusing on their coffee.

‘Wow, Chris. Make sure you don’t go out in public like that.’ Claire commented when he walked in.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that was clearly too small for him, his abdomen was showing and it was very tight. His arms looked like they were being squeezed to death too and it didn’t leave much to the imagination with his chest.

Chris scowled at her and grumbled. ‘My shirt is covered in blood, have had to borrow Loki’s.’ He huffed.

Chris was slightly bigger than Loki, but it was better than nothing.

Louise kept a giggle hidden. Though she couldn’t help but giggle more when Chris moved over to her and put his hand around the back of her neck, then slid round to the side of her neck as he dipped down to kiss her lips softly.

He frowned as he moved round to sit next to her when she couldn't stop giggling, Claire began laughing too.

‘What’s so funny?’ He asked.

‘Oh, nothing.’ Louise said innocently.

Then it was Claire’s turn to laugh as Loki moved beside her and gave her side a brief tickle as he sat down, then squeezed her knee. ‘What are you two up to?’

‘Nothing at all.’ Claire laughed, but when they looked at one another they burst into more laughter and couldn’t stop. While the vampires just looked utterly baffled.

‘I think we need to start monitoring their time together.’ Loki muttered to Chris, who nodded in agreement with a chuckle.

‘Makes me think this trip up North together is a bad idea.’ Chris said cautiously with a little smirk as he put his hand on Louise’s knee under the counter.

They were going to take a road trip up to visit Claire and Louise’s parents in a few weeks’ time during the Easter holidays. They’d also booked two little holiday pods not too far away from their parents where they were going to stay for a few nights, on the way home.

‘Nooo, it’ll be grand.’ Claire grinned.

‘Only if you two behave.’ Loki growled at her playfully.

‘What? We always behave. I have no idea what you’re on about.’ Claire said innocently.

‘You can both drop the innocent tone because Loki and I both know you are far from innocent. Coming along and riling us up like that.’ Chris tutted as his hand found its way back onto the back of Louise’s neck.

Which made them both just break down into more laughter.

Once Claire and Louise got themselves under control, they admitted to the guys about what they’d been talking about and their little test. That earned them both getting tickled for a little bit in response. Which just proved their point even more.

‘Anyway… what do you think really happened to that vampire, then?’ Claire asked them.

Loki shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It seems to point towards hunters, since those two cops were friends of hunters. I’m still suspicious of that other vampire that I saw though.’

‘I’d be surprised if a fellow vampire killed a vampire. It would be pretty obvious if it had been a vampire that killed him.’ Chris hummed.

‘What if there’s a vampire that’s helping the hunters?’ Louise asked quietly.

The thought unsettled everyone.

‘I’d hope not. I would be very surprised if the hunters would accept help from a vampire.’ Chris said as he ran a hand through his hair.

‘Maybe it was just the hunters.’ Loki sighed.

‘I guess we will never know for sure.’ Chris shrugged.

‘Guess not.’ Loki hummed.

‘On another note… Who’s looking after Bat when we go see our parents?’ Louise asked Loki and Claire when the Queen herself came strolling through, purring at everyone as she jumped up onto the counter and began rubbing against everyone’s faces.

‘Not sure yet, everyone wants to. It’s going to be a case of rock, paper, scissors again.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Shame we can’t take her with us.’ Louise said as she kissed Bat’s head.

‘I know, but with your mum being allergic it wouldn’t work.’ Loki said.

‘Dad did say we could just confine her into one room.’ Claire shrugged.

Loki chuckled. ‘We could. Though that wouldn’t be fair on Bat, she loves being around people.’

‘No, Dad meant we could confine Mum into one room.’ Claire corrected him.

Chris had just taken a sip of tea and almost choked.

Claire and Louise laughed, Loki chuckled and shook his head.

‘Did he really say that?’ Chris asked after composing himself.

‘Yep.’ Claire nodded.

‘I can’t wait to meet your parents.’ Chris laughed.

‘I’ve been thinking. Should we tell them about you guys being vampires? I mean, would you mind?’ Louise asked Loki and Chris.

Chris looked at Loki.

Loki shrugged. ‘I mean… I don’t think they’d take it badly from what I’ve met of them. They seem quite open-minded and chilled.’ He said as he looked at Claire.

Claire nodded. ‘I think they’d take it ok too…’

‘What do they know of with the situation… with what happened to Ray?’ Chris asked softly as he looked at Louise.

‘They know you killed him. I said that you were armed, since you protect the school and its allowed. That he was a raving lunatic and it was self-defence.’ Louise explained.

‘How did they take that?’ Chris asked.

‘Dad desperately wants to shake your hand and Mum wants to bake you all the cakes in the world.’ Louise said as she finished her coffee.

‘Now I really can’t wait to meet them.’ Chris chuckled and rubbed his stomach at the thought of home-made cakes.

‘I think they’d be ok with knowing the truth. Maybe shocked at first, but they’ve always known our obsession with vampires. They’ll probably be cool.’ Claire shrugged.

‘I think so too.’ Louise nodded in agreement.

‘Besides, the guys can always sleep out in the garden shed if it goes wrong and Dad kicks them out.’ Claire said to Louise with a grin.

‘True. Or there’s always the old well, they could make a nest in there as bats.’ Louise suggested as she grinned back at her sister.

‘Right, we’re going home now.’ Chris announced as he stood up and grabbed Louise, lifting her off the chair and ushering her out, while she laughed hysterically.

Loki face-palmed while Claire laughed too.

‘See you next week, sis!’ Claire called out to Louise.

‘Maybe!’ Chris called back.

[lovelytsunoda]

zandvoort // liam lawson

summary: one man’s misfortune is another’s chance of a lifetime. so what can’t liam lawson seem to get his head in the game?

pairing: liam lawson x female!reader

warnings: mentions of dannys accident, tittyfucking except liam is too distracted for it to go very far, liam is nervous as hell about finally getting an f1 drive, sneaking into an f1 track to go jogging at ungodly hours is illegal so please do not do what liam and y/n are about to do.

the hotel room was peaceful and calm, lit only by the light from the window and the pitifully small lamp on the nightstand as she slipped beneath the covers, palming her lover through his sweatpants.

as she dipped further beneath the sheets, playfully pulling the duvet over her head, she carefully extracted her lovers erect dick from his shorts, slipping it in between her breasts and under the elastic in her lacy white bralette.

“fuck, sweetheart.” liam hummed softly, watching his dick slide between her boobs.

she looked like an angel, haloed in white, hair missed from the sheets, bottom lip in between her teeth as she tried to bite back a moan, fingers gently palming her nipples through the skimpy lace covering her chest.

so why couldn’t liam focus? it seemed like sacrilege to be thinking about trivial things like race cars and track limits and tyre strategies while the woman he loved and treasured most was currently fucking him with her tits.

he moaned softly, quieter than the norm as he laid his head back against the pillows, bleached blonde hair fanning out round his head as he tried to recenter himself.

focus, liam, he scolded himself.

“babe?” she asked softly, slipping off his dick and tucking her boobs back into her bra as she resurfaced, brushing his hair out of his face. “are you okay? you seem quiet. distant. usually I can’t get you to stop moaning, today you feel like you’re somewhere else.”

liam sighed, turning to face her, tucking himself back into his sweatpants as she lay to rest next to him, one hand gently cradling his face.

“you’re worried about tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“maybe.” liam hummed, kissing her palm. “I haven’t raced zandvoort in over a year, and super formula is so different.”

“oh, liam.” she sighed, kissing his forehead. “you’ve earned this. and yeah, what happened to daniel fucking sucks balls. but you’ve been wanting this all your life.”

“and what if I bottle this?”

y/n sighed, clambering out if the bed and reaching for her under armour leggings. “come on, I’ve got an idea. we have to get out of this room.”

“where are we going, and do I need to wear underwear?”

“you’ll see, now hurry up!”

it was dark outside, stars high in the sky as they got out of y/n’s rental car, giggling as they ducked under the rotating barriers to the paddock. it was strange to see zandvoort at night: a deserted shell of what it was supposed to be, food carts frozen in time and waiting for the crowds to come flocking back.

“I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be here.” liam whispered, trying to keep up with his girlfriend as she ran in the direction of the track itself.

“don’t be a baby, lawson!” she shouted, ducking under the cage where the marshals stood when they waved the flags. “come on!”

shaking his head, liam followed her. it was eerie to stand at the starting line, and he felt small standing in the wide expanse of asphalt, the moonlight glaring down at him.

“we’re going for a run. it will take your mind off things, and running the track might help you get your bearings back.”

“have I ever told you how incredible you are?” liam laughed, pulling her in for a kiss.

“maybe once or twice.” she smiled up at him. “now, if I win you have to give me orgasms and breakfast in bed.”

Liam’s hearty laugh echoed through the empty track. “do you want a head start, then?”

“you son of a bitch!” she laughs, playfully pushing him away. “you’d better not let me win!”

and as she started running down the main straight, liam stayed firmly rooted by the starting line, watching the bright expression in her face in the half light and the way her ass moved (he was a man after all).

god, he loved her so much.

“liam! don’t let me win!”

“alright, I’m coming!”

TAGS

@clemswrld @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @userlando

[agustdiv1ne]

Can u write yeonjun with an horror actress s/o? Like he goes to all her premieres and watches every single movie and just like super supportive! But hes also like low key scared of her cuz of the messed up shit she does in the movies lol but he knows she not actually like that.

anon i want to kiss u rn

"do you promise not to scream bloody murder this time?" you ask you boyfriend as your sleek vehicle pulls up to your latest movie premiere. his slicked back hair and form-fitted suit stand in direct contrast to his pouty lips and adorably scrunched up nose. it takes everything in you not to laugh.

"i thought we agreed to not bring that up?" he complains as the car rolls to a stop, the chauffer unlocking the doors. suddenly, he shoves his door open, sprinting around the car before you can even open your own.

"ever the gentleman," you tease after he opens your door for you. he offers his hand, and you step out of the car with as much grace as you can muster, linking your arm with his.

"only for you," he teases back before you're making your way down the red carpet, smiling and posing for the photographers that line the walkway. you smile a little wider when you feel yeonjun's arm slip from your hold to slither around your waist, internally knowing that he probably isn't going to survive this movie — this is definitely one of the scariest projects you have been apart of.

the moment the movie comes on, he's gripping onto your arm, muscles tense and eyes as wide as saucers. the first scene — expected to you, very much unexpected to him — is a jumpscare, your character's blacked out eyes staring straight into the camera. he nearly screams at the sight, your character's neck twisting at an odd angle before the lights cut out.

"i think my soul just left my body," you hear him mumble as the next scene begins. in response, you laugh quietly, allowing him to scoot closer to you. he flinches and jumps and hides his face in your shoulder throughout the rest of the movie — though you remain unfazed, simply giggling at his theatrics and rubbing a comforting thumb against the back of his hand. getting home is worse with how jumpy he becomes, but you somehow make it back in the end.

as the two of you undo yourselves, he asks, "you're not gonna, like...turn into a demon while we sleep, are you?"

"jjun," you sigh, exasperated as you remove your makeup in front of the bathroom mirror, your formal attire exchanged for one of his shirts and a pair of shorts.

"kidding! kidding," he says as he raises his hands in mock defense, the reflection the mirror allowing you too catch sight of his joking expression. "unless..."

"yeonjun."

you hear him chuckle from behind you before his arms wrap around your torso. he plants a soft kiss to your neck, resting his chin against your shoulder.

"i'm really proud of you, y'know," he murmurs, the teasing atmosphere vanishing before your bery eyes as he slowly sways you back and forth. you bring another cotton round to your face to clean off any remnants of makeup you may have missed while he admires your bare face through the mirror. "your acting is incredible. you always get so immersed into your character, and i know how hard you work for these roles. i feel so lucky to be able to share these moments with you."

a blend of emotions hits you all at once. yeonjun has always been vocally supportive of your career, but his words never fail to affect you. your idol boyfriend is one of the most hardworking people you know, so to hear such encouraging words from him...it causes tears to well up in your eyes. you turn in his hold to face him. once he meets your teary gaze, he moves to cup your jaw with both hands. slowly, he presses his lips against your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and at last, your lips, pulling away after a mere few seconds.

"what's wrong, my love?" he asks, his voice low and soft, an intrinsic tenderness that he saves only for you apparent in his tone. your lower lip wobbles before you can control it, unable to tear yourself from his umber eyes.

"nothing," you say, the corners of your lips upturned. a mutual, unspoken i love you floats through the air. "i'm just really happy right now."

[missstratford]

Charmed

A/n: This is for the anon who requested a fic for draco x reader where draco has a crush on the reader and its so obvious his friends keep teasing him. I’m so sorry but your request had somehow got deleted. I hope you read this and its turns out the way you  wanted it!❤❤

It felt weird to explain yours and Draco’s friendship, if that’s what you could call it. It had begun so oddly from random acts of kindness with no ulterior intent to smiling at each other down the hallways. Draco was the first to approach you, you remembered that day clearly when you had spilled an entire bottle of ink on your essay and began panicking at your desk in the library. As you tried to dab out the ink to no avail, so were surprised to see it disappear and leave your assignment as good as new, turning, you found a gently smiling Malfoy looking at you. “I know transfiguration essays are the hardest to complete. Good luck.” He whispered and stalked away as if nothing had happened. You sat there astounded as you had never before spoken to him. That’s how it started, the next time you found yourself leaving him a note of suggestion to change his ingredients for potions, he left you a herbology handbook and an extra quill in class. Soon your friends found themselves enthralled by the exchange, “Why would Malfoy become ever so kind just towards you?” they’d chime in with sinister smiles. “He likes you!” they concluded one sunny afternoon, “Stop being absurd. He’s just a nice friend and a lovely person in general.” You countered. “oh, but he has never shown anyone that much kindness before.” One of your friends said, “Yes! And have you seen the way he keeps looking at you during classes? It’s the most adorable thing ever.” Another added. This was new information, you had never before caught Draco looking at you, but one could argue that you were too busy paying attention in class to notice. It was decided then that you would see for yourself if Draco seemed truly interested in you.

The next class you shared with the Slytherins was charms, as you made your way towards the classroom, you stopped sharp. Around the corner you heard voices, unmistakably belonging to Draco and his gang of friends, “Mate you are so whipped.” Laughed Blaise. “I most certainly am not!” you heard Draco’s sharp voice. “Then why ever do you keep staring at her in class?” This voice belonged to Theodore. “i-“ Draco was cut off by Pansy’s giggles, “Is that why we heard you calling her name in your sleep?” “Oh, do you remember when he was drunk last week? It was something I wish Y/n was there to see.” Guffawed Blaise. Your cheeks heated up, had you misheard your name? “Ah yes, I could never forget! OH Y/n, My sweet Y/n. I wish to dance with you in my arms darling!” Theo laughed as Pansy imitated Draco. “Shut up you lot, we’re going to be late for class. Let’s go.” You heard Draco. Before your mind could register what was happening, Draco rounded the corner straight into you, “Oof- Who do you think y-“ his temperamental ranting was cut short when his eyes landed on you. “Y/n” he said trying to form a sentence, his cheeks turning a bright shade of scarlet. “I-how-how long were you standing here?” he stammered, “Long enough to hear your friends talk.” You answered expectantly.

 Saying that you had a crush on Draco would be an understatement, you were smitten with the lad. From the moment you got a glimpse of his true nature you couldn’t help but wish to bask in his attention all day long. All you ever felt like whenever you saw him was to run your fingers through his blond tresses and pepper kisses to his charming face. “I can explain” His desperate voice brought you back to reality. A small smile tugged on your lips. “I don’t want an explanation.” I want you to be mine. The unsaid words were obvious to all but him. Draco seemed to not catch on, he took a step forward, “Y/n please let me explain. Its all a misunderstanding” he fumbled with his fingers trying too hard. You heard his friends giggle, “Just ask her out you dimwit! She likes you back for Merlin’s sake!” they shouted. “Wha-Y/n do you- Are they” as Draco tried to gather himself, you couldn’t wait any longer. You stepped forward and crashed your lips to his, silencing him. As you two parted, Draco lifted his fingers to feel where your lips had been just moments ago. “Does this mean you’ll go out with me this weekend?” he asked expectantly. “not just this weekend, the weekend after that and the one after that. If you want?” you said with a bright grin. “Yes! Yes of course!” he laughed lifting you and twirling you around. “Draco!” you shrieked in surprise, “Well be late to charms.” “Darling, you’ve already charmed me, what more could I want.” He said softly, putting me down, his lips kissing yours soon after.    

[whois-jess]

Can I request a Rhea x Fem! reader in which reader in which they go to do some horror mazes and reader acts brave to make Rhea who's insisting to have them all happy, but ends up getting scared? I used to like horror mazes (I watched them on YouTube because I live in Europe and we have only four or five horror mazes in my country, but some traumatized me and now I don't like them anymore xD)

Horror maze

Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

(Sorry this took so long to get done)

It was the start of October and many would know one of Rheas favorite time of the year, for months now she was talking about it and all the horror movies we can watch and she brought up a horror maze which she was thrilled about and wanted to go to so as my surprise/early birthday present i was taking her.

To me this maze looked and sounded like death but i knew Rhea would love it and thats what mattered to me. "Rhea hurry! We have to get going" i yelled to her as she was the one taking ages this time "damn baby girl i am ready" she chuckles walking around the corner "come on you will love it" i smile grabbing my car keys "will i now" she raised an eyebrow "yes you will" i smile back "maybe if you tell me i will know" i chuckled this time as she has been wanting to know since i told her i had a surprise "nice try love" i said kissing her cheek as we left the house getting in the car.

"Excited" i asked her "yeah i am can i have a clue?" She asks "fine, okay so its to go with Halloween and all that" i said turning left going on to the motorway "Halloween?" She questioned "yes" i smiled when a van cut in front me "bastard!" I yelled honking my horn "if you cant drive fuck off the road!" I yelled again and Rhea laughed "your funny y/n" her hand comes to my thigh patting it not moving her hand afterwards.

"Okay well are here!" I say as well pull into a car park, Rhea looks around beforw her face lights up "oh my god! Its the maze!" She says smiling "yep!" I smile back parking the car turning the engine off "i love you babe" she leans over kissing me "now shall we go in?" I say taking my belt off "uh yes!" Rhea quickly gets out making me laugh as she waits for me "dam girl calm" i say locking the car and she walks over pulling me close to her "your the best girlfriend ever" i smile at her words "i know" i kiss her nose before we walk to the entrance.

As well got closer it has signs says warning dont come closer and crime scene tape the normal 'scary stuff' "welcome you two" a man says dressed as a creepy zombie said "hello" Rhea said holding my hand "stay safe and have the scare of your life" the man said in a creepy way before we walked to the start of the maze "ready?" Rhea smiled "yeah lets just get it over with" i said as we walk in "dont be like that baby it wont be that bad" Rhea say as we take our first corner we turn to see a man dressed as a zombie which jumped scared me a bit "jeez who hides behind a corner" i say and Rhea giggles "he does its his job, looks like a dead end lets go left" she smiles taking my hand "y/n if you want we can go back" Rhea says i knew she was doing because i wasn't the biggest fan of horror mazes right now but she was loving it and i didn't want to ruin it "no baby it fun" i smile at her and she squeezes my hand "okay babe". We turn another corner to see two more zombies walking over "fuck sake".

"Rhea are we lost in a maze of creeps" i raise my eyebrow "Y/n its a maze not a straight line" she smiles kissing my cheek "yeah" we walk down a path and hear a sound "you hear that?" I ask "what sweetheart?" Rhea looks round at me "i think we are being followed" i say looking back "followed? Don't be silly no one is there" we kept walking when i hear something the corner behind us "Rhea there is someone there" my grip tightens on her hand "don't be silly Y/n your fine" my eyes stayed on where the sound came from when a woman in blood and too realistic makeup ran at us "Shit Rhea!" I jumped into Rheas arms "Fuck!" Rhea screamed as well and she runs a bit carring me.

When we got far enough she hugged me and we both laugh "shit that was scary" i laughed "yeah your reaction baby" Rhea chuckled we stood there me in Rheas arms for a bit "lets get out of here" She smiled and kisses me "yeah we have a lot more scares to go" i smiled at her "you got you big strong girlfriend to help you" Rhea jokes and i kiss her "what a hero" we both laugh again before continuing the maze and lets say it was a terrible night sleep but a lot of cuddles.

[quicktosimp]

Simpy boo!💕💕

I loved your jakes sully nsfw abcs,

Could you possibly do lyle? 👉👈

I got the writers block bad rn-😖

Babby Boo,

I love you with all of my heart, I knew you were going to ask this so I prepared this early 😘💗😂

Lyle Wainfleet - ABC NSWF

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Lyle is a giver, and nothing pleases him more than being able to take care of his love. Clean towels, hot bath, sips of water, you are his queen, just don't let him give you a message otherwise you'll go for another round 🤭

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

For himself, I'd have today it's his biceps. I have to admit his arms are something to drool over, and that tattoo is something as well. Lyle literally had to find a way to get an avatar form tattooed; that took time and planning.

For his lover, I'm going to go with tits. Now, don't get me wrong, he loves everything, but for him, seeing a nice set of breasts that bounce as they walk makes his brain malfunction.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Lyle isn't particular about cum, but he does prefer it inside you, something about needing to make sure that his seed takes.

D= Dominate (how dominate are they)

Don't get me wrong, but while I think Lyle may be into some kinks, I don't think he's really into Dom/Sub dynamics. He likes being on the same level as his partner, but that doesn't mean that Lyle doesn't love to hear her moan and scream his name.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

In his human form 100%, but he's not. Lyle has all the tools and the information, he just needs to relearn them in his new body, then oh baby watch out

F= Favorite position

Cowgirl, having a pair of tits bouncing in his face while staring into his lover's eyes, Lyle is in heaven.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

I'm gonna say not very goofy. Lyle is very romantic, wanting nothing but the best for his lover. Altho if the mood strikes, he's not against a little bit of giggling while they kiss or fuck; he's confident in his abilities.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

The picture above says it all: if Lyle has any hair, it's going to meet a straight razor.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Lyle loves to be intimate. If he could, he would have the room covered in rose petals and scented candles. He would make sure every night is one to remember. But duty calls, and time can be limited, so if he has to, then Lyle will drop his drawers wherever he's at to fuck you good until he returns.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Definitely a morning wanker. If you're not there with him in the morning, then he's in the bathroom taking care of it. When he's away for too long, then it's also the same thing.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Size Kink, Lyle is 9 feet tall; even compared to other Na'vi and avatars, he is tall. So no matter if you're human, na'vi, avatar, or recom, Lyle loves using his large body to tower over you.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Preferably, he wants to do it in your rooms, away from everyone, but beggars can't be choosers, and if he must, Lyle will take you over Quaritch's desk, consequences be damned.

M= Motivation (things that make them tick/turn on)

Lyle loves to see you feeling good. Knowing that he's the one making you moan and whine is the biggest turn-on for him. But if you want to give him a jump start, wear a low-cut tight top, and show off the girls, Lyle will definitely appreciate it.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

He will not hurt you, spanking, rough hair pulling, choking, anything that could cause you pain, let alone leave a mark; forget it.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

My man is a giver, has and always will be. Loves using his tongue to make you cum over and over again before he even starts to fuck you.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Lyle doesn't like to fuck (unless he has to). He wants a nice, slow love-making, making sure that you feel every ounce of love and pleasure with each thrust.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

If he has to (aka short on time), then he will definitely fuck you like you've never been fucked before. You will be walking out with a noticeable limp and a building wet patch from the leaking cum.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

If it comes down to it, Lyle will fuck you anywhere. Offices, forest, bathrooms, mess hall, if he is short on time, your parties are no longer on the premises.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Lyle usually goes 2-3 times, and the amount of time wavers. He's mostly focused on you and will not cum once if you haven't cum at least 3 times.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Lyle would be down for using a cock ring on himself, even one that vibrates, because he knows it would feel good on you. He would also be interested in other toys, like dildos and even some anal plugs.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

This man will not edge you but overstimulate you 100%. He will make you cum, over and over and over again, before he'll even think about using his cock.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Low grunts and moans, lots of sweet nothing and praise in your ear. If in public, then you'll hear a lot of low hisses as he bites his lip, trying to keep quiet.

W= Wild card

Thinks about being a cuck, Lyle wants to watch you, and someone else fuck while he sits there palming at his cock, (preferably a certain colonel)

X= X-ray

Big boy, big cock, 25 inches (63 cm) minimum. There is a reason this mans after care is top notch.

Y= Yearning

Lyle wants to do it every moment of the day if he can, the moment you give anything that could be perceived as bedroom eyes, and you're slung over his shoulder, making way to the nearest spot.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so, how quickly after)

He's got to take care of you first. After you are completely taken care of and are deeply asleep in his arms, only then will he fall asleep.

I got to say these are fun! I'm open for requests if anyone is interested 💗💗

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[twostepstyless]

how are our ARLTY lovies doing? :(( miss them!!! 🥹

Oh my god!!  the fact that you miss them??? Ouch I miss them SO much too, shall we have a little check in with them? 

Read the original one shot here :))

Masterlist

2.3k words

***

The rest of the trip flew by. Well, it would do when the pair were surrounded by a pink, glittery haze of their newly professed love. After Harry had gone back into the villa to lock the balcony doors and they left Amalfi, they cut across Italy, through Salerno and Potenza before arriving in Bari where they spent a few days traipsing round the maze of narrow, cobbled streets of the old town and walking through galleries and museums while nudging hips and the brushes of hands against one another’s. The pair took turns on the drive alongside the Adriatic coast, stopping for day trips and overnights. They had no plan so pulled in wherever they fancied, or when something caught their eye. Funnily enough, the weird, dodgy sound coming from the engine had disappeared and was now a distant memory as they made their way to Venice. Venice was… well… bloody Venice. They wandered down paved streets hand in hand, and they took a gondola ride as night fell on their first evening. As the sun set around them their gondolier told them the romantic legend of the Bridge of Sighs and urged the young couple to share a kiss as they floated under the bridge so they could bask in eternal love. 

“What a load of old shit,” Y/N had snorted quietly to Harry as they approached the bridge as she was cuddled up to his side. 

“Oi, it’s romantic,” Harry jabbed her side playfully before looping his arm around her shoulders and playing with the ends of her hair that fell there. 

“It’s the gondola companies capitalist wet dream is what it is, look at all the boats lined up,” she giggled thinking about how many young couples must pay a premium to come to this spot every day. 

Harry laughed as he noticed the queue of boats himself, “hm, so no kiss then?” he asked just as they were about to sail under. 

“Well, I never said that” Y/N whispered turning her neck to face him as he was already leaning in. She planted her lips on his and indulged in the feel of his lips moving against her own, honouring the legend even if it was used as a ploy to make money nowadays. 

Venice continued to be perfect. Harry held his clumsy girl steady on the landings that bobbed in the water of the Vaporetto water taxis, taking her hand in his, helping her to board. They spent a day and two entire reels of film in Burano taking in the brightly coloured houses that were even brighter and even more sweet-like than the ones they saw in Naples. The colours paired with the sun shining above them made for beautifully hazy pictures of the two of them with the houses at bright backdrops. Harry had Y/N posing for him every few metres that left him overwhelmed with options for his phones new home screen. He settled on one with her hand raised to stop him a faux glare gracing her face as he stopped her again to take her photo. 

The toured a lacemakers on Burano and Y/N went back with scraps of the handmade lace in her hands that she knew was going straight into the scrapbook she planned to make of this trip. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off her as her fingers toyed with the lace and ran delicately over the top of it appreciating the floral designs and the craftmanship that went into making even the little pieces she was going away with. Their favourite stop was at the Libreria Acqua Alta, the most beautiful bookshop the pair had ever seen, the Waterstones on the high street near both their houses paled in comparison to this. Stacks of books littered the place, but what really sold it to the pair was that the slew of books were displayed in buckets, boats and bathtubs to save them from flooding when the canals overflow into the shop. They spent a while looking at all the books with Harry buying a few of his favourites in Italian so he could get better at learning the language. She watched him from an aisle over, his brow furrowed as he read over the blurb on the back of a particular book in his hand, eyes flitting over the words before deciding to buy it and depositing it on the growing pile of books he had accumulated. He looked up to find her, but seeing her gaze already on him as they smiled to each other before Harry went over to grab her own pile of books to carry for her.

***

It was November now, and the stack of books with worn edges and pretty leatherbound spines Y/N had bought from the little shop in Venice sat pride of place in the bookshelves of her flats living room. She was sat criss-cross on the floor in front of her coffee table with her supplies spilling over the edges of the small table and onto the floor, a large square book opened onto a blank page in front of her. She rifled through the bundle of freshly developed photographs trying to find a specific shot of her and her best friend. It was a photo from a few months ago on a road trip they had taken. It was a photo of them on a walk one evening in Positano, they were walking side by side down the middle of the road watching the sunset when a stranger stopped the pair and asked if she could take a photo of them as they looked like such a beautiful couple and they should remember their evening with a picture. How little the stranger knew that the beautiful couple had only became a couple a short 12 hours before that. But as the setting sun burnt the sky a rich orange that faded to pink then into blue behind them, Harry and Y/N were photographed leaning against the railing that looked over the water, arms wrapped around one another with radiant smiles plastered on their faces as the stranger took the first official photo of the pair as a couple. Y/N looked fondly down as she pasted the photo into her scrapbook with the glue stick that she had to peel a layer of crust off as she had left the lid off for too long. She wrote the date under the photograph before flipping through the book again, seeing the U.K sticker they peeled off the car when they arrived back next to the photo of them outside the car before they left, the photo of an unsuspecting Harry getting to drive through the big tunnel he was so desperate to do, the two of them standing in front of the candy-coloured houses in both Naples and Burano caught on film and glued into her book, a strip cut off from the silk scarf Harry had tied round her neck, to live out her best Audrey Hepburn fantasy, was in the book next to one of the numerous photos of Y/N that Harry had taken that evening. She was just starting a new page with the scraps of lace from Burano getting pasted in when she heard a key jiggle in the lock of her front door. Now, only Y/N’s mum and one other person had a key to the flat and her mum was currently in her hometown to that left the latter as who it could be. 

“Girlfriend, where are you?” he sang from the entryway as he shed his coat from his shoulders before putting it in her coat cupboard in the hallway. She heard his shoes get kicked off his feet in a clatter against the wooden floor. 

“I’m in the living room, boyfriend,” Y/N called back not looking up from her task at hand as she heard his socked feet pad up the hall towards her. 

“Evening, my love, wha’s all this?” Harry asked standing next to her, peering down at her covered coffee table and the opened scrapbook.

“Went to the craft shop today, went a bit mental, here I am, finally making the scrapbook from our trip,” she spoke as she pressed down on the piece of lace to stick it in place before looking up at him, “hi pretty,” she sighed out smiling up at him from her place on the floor. 

“‘Went a bit mental,’ yeah I can see that,” Harry laughed leaning down to peel a letter H sticker from her forehead before showing it to her on the pad of his index finger. 

“Oh! I was looking for that,” she carefully peeled the sticker from his fingertip and flicked to the front page of the book to complete the sentence that formerly read as ‘Arry and Y/N’s Roadtrip.’ “There we go,” she stuck it in place, even if it was a little squint on the page. “Help me up?” Y/N pouted up at him raising her hands up in front of him. Harry popped the plastic bag for life onto her couch to grip both her hands in his pulling her up from her spot. 

“Hmm, finally,” Harry groaned as he finally got to kiss her hello. A deep, slow kiss as his tongue licked into her mouth just a little bit before he pulled back with three short pecks, muttering a ‘hi,’ against her kiss softened lips. 

“Hm, what’s with the bag,” she glanced down to her couch as if to remind him. 

“My turn to cook tonight, isn’t it?” Harry asked lifting the bag and walking towards her kitchen setting it on the side before helping Y/N pop herself up to sit on the countertop when she followed him in. “Did y’know they charge 30 bloody pence for a bag for life nowadays,” Harry sighed as he stood between her legs wanting to be close to her after a long day and last night without her. 

“It’s so we stop using plastic H, where were your reusable ones?” asking as she rest her forearms on his shoulders pulling him in closely and letting her hand card through the back of his hair. 

“Left them in the car and couldn’t carry everything without one,” he muttered before holding back a moan at the satisfaction of her nails scraping lightly against his scalp. 

“How was the studio?” Y/N questioned him as he untangled himself from her for a second to unpack his shopping bag so he could start preparing dinner. 

“Hm, was good I think, felt like a good day today,” he mused, sniffing his fresh produce quickly, still didn’t smell as good or as fresh as what they bought in Italy.

“Write anything good?” Y/N reached behind her to grab the two cutting boards he would need. 

“Yeah, think so,” Harry smiled, remembering what he got out today and thinking about what inspired it. 

“Let me hear some?” she asked playfully, knowing already she had absolutely no chance until Harry was ready to share it with her. 

“Nice try, baby, not yet” Harry came back to stand between her legs, reaching forward to quickly push her hair back off her face. 

Y/N scrunched her nose and grumbled, “tell me what it’s about at least,” batting her eyelashes flirtatiously to try and convince him.

Kissing the pout from her lips, tasting the balm she was using to fight off the chapping the ever-increasing winter wind was causing as London grew colder and colder.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” Harry teased. 

“Oh H, please,” she whined hopping down from the counter, standing on her tiptoes she brushed her nose against his, the tip of his own still tinged pink and a little cold from being outside, before resting her chin on his chest to gaze up at him. 

Harry breathed out a huff of laughter his hands cupping her face, thumbs brushing across the tops of her cheeks as she leant into his touch

“Driving,” he stated

“Driving?” she puzzled head tilting to the side. 

“The songs about driving,” he said softly. Memories of the road trip that changed it all for the flourishing couple rushed through both their minds simultaneously, Harry’s like a movie in his mind and Y/N’s all the pasted pages of her scrapbook that she had worked on all day. Smiles graced both of their faces, knowingly, but not one of the two saying it aloud. Harry let out a hum of laughter, almost bashful sounding before he pulled her into a kiss. His lips nipping her bottom lip between them. 

Harry was cooking dinner when Y/N spoke up again as she watched him stir the sauce with a tea towel draped across his shoulder. 

“My wish came true by the way,” she spoke from behind him as he turned to face her, closing the distance by pulling her into his chest. 

“Wish?” Harry puzzled, resting his forehead on hers, the innate need to be close to her waving its flag. 

“My wish I wouldn’t tell y’about at the Trevi, it came true,” she whispered the sound of food bubbling away on the stove almost drowning her out.

“Mine too,” Harry pulled back to look into her eyes before leaning down to kiss his love. 

“Now feed me, Styles,” Y/N proclaimed as they broke apart. Harry laughed as he turned round grabbing the spoon from the sauce and holding it up for her to taste. As she leant to taste it, the sauce fell from the spoon and down her shirt that was partly covered by the soft cotton dungarees she wore. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, that was your fault this time,” she whined as she began to shimmy out of the t-shirt from under her overalls, and to Harry this all felt a bit too much like déjà vu.