#and that's not really a conversation I want to have with them so...no photos lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

biteyoubiteme · 11 months ago

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blind date

Jeongin x fem!reader

synopsis: your friend invites you on a double date only your date doesnt talk to you all night.

warnings: 🔞!!! slight angst, mentions of drinking, protected sex, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2.8k

an: this was a request! hope I did it justice but I don't think im too good at writing angst and this isn't too fluffy lol sorry anon :p feedback is appreciated! not proofread sorry [m.list]

“he's so cute I promise you won't regret it,” your friend is trying so hard to put on a convincing argument, begging you to go out with her tonight on her date, “I'll pull up his instagram! Please I'm so nervous I can’t go alone,” she pulls out her phone typing away before passing it to you.

“oh his is cute,” you whisper not wanting to admit you were leaning toward going. but as you scroll through his page you knew you wouldn't pass up a date with him even if it was awkward to be going with your friend and you didn’t know him at all. but one photo showing his sweet smile and little dimple was enough for you to agree because only the world's strongest and heartless individuals could withstand the power of dimples on anyone.

A few hours later you’re seated at a table, tucked into the back of the bar, picking at your nails. As happy as your friend is with her date, giggling and sharing light touches, you’re sitting in silence with Jeongin.

the two of you had shared a soft hello, ordered at the bar together, and then fell off talking without even really starting. The booth was shaped in a way that you and Jeongin were just watching your friends fall in love.

“So are you from here?” you try, your straw in between your fingers and stirring your drink.

“Not really,” he says, watching his hand on the table, thumb rubbing over a drop of water that slid from the side of his glass.

you wait for him to elaborate but get nothing in return, you contemplate kicking your friend under the table to ask to cut this all short. She is not nervous anymore and you know the two of them will be going on another date without question. It's when you sip from your empty glass that Chan turns away from your friend and notices the two of you sitting in silence.

“Do you want a refill?” he asks, hiking his thumb over his shoulder, he looks back to your friend with a dimple-graced smile, “We’ll go get another round yeah?”

“Okay,” she nods as Chan and Jeongin slip out of the booth and head to the bar.

“you’re the worst he won't even fucking talk to me!”

“I'm sorry last time when I met him he seemed so sweet and just your type, I don’t know what happened,”

“he's looking everywhere but my face, hell I'm sure he hasn't even glanced at my hand,”

“I'm sorry but just a little longer please, Chan invited us back to his apartment to hang and I don’t want to go alone,”

“I'm not third-wheeling your hook-up,”

“No his roommates will be there and some of his other friends and any of their girlfriends, please,” she folds her hands in front of her pouting her lips. “I need you,”

“you do not, he's all over you, I need you,” she bats her lashes and you know you’ll give in. Even a bad date wouldn't keep you from helping your friend, “you owe me,”

It was only an hour later when you were in the back of an uber squished between jeongin and your best friend that you were truly regretting saying yes to a blind date in the first place. Jeongin was trying to keep every part of him from touching you, thighs pulled in close to the door, arm slung across his stomach. it was making you angry. both of you had been invited to your friend's date and both of you should have turned it down. if he didn’t want to be here with you he could pretend or try to hold a conversation at the very least. instant silence was worse than faking it, or at least for your ego.

even sitting in their living room with all their friends joking and laughing you couldn't put it aside. jeongin sitting across from you, nodding along with whatever was said to him, avoiding your gaze.

everyone is playing cards or joking around and you’re trying to join in on the conversation, sipping from a drink your friend brought over to you when you notice jeongin excuse himself from the group. without much thought, you throw the rest of your drink back for encouragement before leaning past your friend to ask Chan where the bathroom is. He points you down the hall Jeongin went and you’re quick to follow.

The music fades as you move down the hall still leaving room for you to hear the sink faucet on as you lean against the wall opposite the bathroom. crossing your arms to listen to the sound of the water turning off and the lock clicking.

jeongin is surprised to see you waiting for him, little angry scowl making him avert his eyes from yours. He lowers his head trying to move past you but you shoot your arm out to block him.

“Is there something wrong with me?” the words spill out before you can stop yourself. jeongin jolts back at the question, finally meeting your gaze.

“What?”

“Are you hung up on someone else or am I just not pretty enough? fuckable enough?”

jeongin is stammering trying to blink away his confusion. “I never- I don’t-“

“I mean why else would you ignore me all night? and yeah going out with someone you don’t know can be awkward but damn I got dressed up so cute only to be ignored?”

you place your hands on your hips and jeongin follows the line of your body with his eyes. “I’ve never really um- I’ve just been-“

you feel kinda bad as you watch him try to make a sentence, his cheeks turning pink as he fails, “I was worried about this exactly,” he gets out waving around at himself. “and I mean I’ve talked to girls I’ve had a girlfriend before it’s just- it’s been a while and chan was being so nice inviting me along to try and help me but I just-“ he meets your eyes again, “you’re pretty, one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen, gorgeous really and I was already so nervous and then I saw you and if I hadn’t been invited I would have never stood a chance and I didn’t want to embarrass myself,” he huffed a laugh, “but I already did that now,” he’s rushing with his words trying to get everything out so that he says his peace.

he wants to put this to bed and wallow in his embarrassment in private now. he didn’t want to get his hopes up to see you leave here and never think about him again. he could imagine you giggling with your friend on the car ride home and he didn’t want that so he just didn’t talk. Now he’s opening the door for all of his fears and he won’t even shut up. “and there’s nothing wrong with you I swear. if I could make love to you I would I just didn’t want to be embarrassing,”

and although you feel a little bit like an ass seeing him so shy it doesn’t stop your giggle at his last statement. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to make love to me, I asked if I was fuckable, there’s kinda a difference,” if jeongins blush could spread any farther it would. “to make love you kinda have to talk to someone; get to know them,”

“Sorry,” he breathes and it’s then he’s realizing just how close the two of you are standing to each other. “I-I do find you…” jeongins eyes flicker down to your lips watching the way you tuck them between your teeth.

“fuckable? you can say it but only if you mean it,”

you watch his throat bob as he swallows, watch as his eyes dip down over your body before he looks back to you, “I do find you fuckable,” the words at the end of a whisper. both of you watching each other waiting for the other to move, to do something. but you realize he probably wouldn’t make the first move, not after everything already.

lifting a hand you place it over his stomach sliding your hand up his chest as his breathing increases; he doesn’t stop you. jeongin is leaning closer, dipping his head down until his lips are just about to meet yours. “prove it,” you whisper and it’s what sends him over the edge pressing his mouth to yours.

he leaves the softest kiss before pulling away looking at you for the smallest second before his hand slides behind your neck pulling you back to his lips.

He kisses you like this is the only time he will have his mouth on you like he wants to consume you.

your fingers tangle in his shirt and in the hair at the back of his neck not knowing what's come over you. the two of you barely break away for air long enough to think past the feeling of each other. stumbling he presses you into the wall, your back flush against the surface as he wedges himself closer to you, knee between your legs and his hand heavy on your waist you don’t care if only a few minutes ago he was ignoring you like you had the plague, not when he's kissing you like this.

when he starts to kiss down your neck is when you decide you don’t care how far it goes tonight as long as he keeps touching you. “Take me to your room,” you're whispering into his ear, and he's nodding against you not even stepping away from you as he guides you backward towards his door. you have little time to take in the space when he shuts the door. his space tidy and inviting the only light coming from his desk lamp. His bed is half made with the comforter showing someone had rolled out this morning. in a moment jeongin pulls you with him to the edge of the bed, “we don’t have to do anything,” he mutters as you climb into his lap, his hands attached to your hips.

you brush his hair back from his face, “Do you wanna stop?” and you find it cute that even just from kissing he's hard pressed against your inner thigh trying to stop himself from guiding your hips against him for friction.

“no don’t stop,” hands sliding down the curve of your ass pulling you down harder on his erection. “I'm sorry I was so awkward and ignored you,” he kisses down your throat as you grind on him, ”I want to get to know you I-,” he cuts himself off with a moan when you slip your hand between you two to palm him over his jeans.

“you can ask me out for real after we both get off okay?”

“you'll say yes?” his breathy question sounds like a plea as you fumble with the button of his jeans. “I didn’t think you would like me,”

“Well, you would have never known if I did or not unless you looked at me first,” your hand slips into the waistband of his underwear and he buries his head into your neck as he moans against your skin. The warmth of his precum helps slide your hand over his veiny shaft, thumb circling his tip as his hands dig into the fabric of your skirt. “Look at me,” your free hand fisting his hair to tug his head back. “if you make me cum it's a guaranteed yes,”

His smile is suddenly sinful, an irrefutable dimple on display as he wraps his arm around your waist flipping the two of you over so that you’re on your back against the comforter. He pushes up your skirt, eyes drawn to the outline of your cunt in your lace panties. you sit up on your elbows as he presses his thumb to your clit, your head rolling back at the feeling of his rubbing circles, your knees spreading wider. He hooks his fingers into your panties pulling them to the side, free hand reaching out to gather your wetness.

jeongin doesn't want to waste any time, reaching over and past you to pull out a condom from the nightstand next to you. you hadn't seen having sex in the cards tonight but watching him slide on the condom all the slick he got from you used to help roll it down was enough to make you ache for him. his pants aren't even fully down as he climbs into bed pressing himself into the cradle of your hips. you reach down to help guide him to your entrance, notching the head of his cock right where you wanted him.

your head rolls back as jeongin pushes in, the stretch making both of you moan. He pauses only halfway before pulling back out, rubbing along your folds and against your clit before pushing all the way in. Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses down your jaw. He's thrusting so slowly that you arch your hips trying to meet him halfway. “faster I don’t want it slow,”

he nods, pulling away enough so that he can hook your legs into the crook of his elbows, folding you in half your skirt completely bunched up at your waist as you tug your panties more to the side. laying himself on top of you he slides in deeper than you thought possible feeling him pressed against your cervix. He gives you one last soft kiss before he starts pounding into you without remorse. his eyes trained on your every facial expression, your gummy walls squeezing around him as he bit back curses at the feeling. you know that everyone is just down the hall but it's hard to keep quiet when he's angling his hips just right to hit your gspot, your hand sneaking down to rub at your clit. “Look at how pretty you are taking my cock, now that I have my eyes on you I can’t look away,” you try to bite back your whine, hips sinking as he slams into you. “Now who's not talking?”

you can feel your orgasm building in your stomach, your toes curling as you roll your head back. “no no look at me when you cum I wanna know I got my second date the moment it happens,” and the feeling hits you like a truck, jeongins hand coming up to cover your mouth to keep your noises down but his arm moving sends your leg higher and you feel him press further into you. you’re trembling as he lets you ride out your high his slow strokes a mixture of his soon climax and the absolute pleasure of feeling you squeeze around him. The warmth of him filling the condom has you pressing your hand to his mouth to silence him, his arms buckling as he tries to keep himself upright.

when the both of you catch your breath you realize neither of you has removed your hands from the other's mouth, both of your giggles muffled from the realization. both of you move your hands and Jeongin kisses your nose before pulling out of you, your hiss at the sensation has him rubbing his thumb through your folds the slight overstimulation making your knees jerk. “I'm sorry next time i'll try to go a bit slower, maybe i'll have talked enough to have moved past fuckable,” he pulls your panties back into place before you sit up.

“we will need at least five dates before you get to lovemaking status,” you reach over to pull him back to your lips, “for the meantime fast and hard is perfect,” you can feel his smile as you kiss.

When both of you pull apart you stand fixing your skirt as he tosses the condom in the trash. “I need to go clean up in the bathroom,” you say, brushing your hair back with your fingers.

jeongin nods, finding his phone to hand over to you, “first your number,” you’re quick to input it before making your way out into the hallway. both of you smiling like idiots as he closes the door to his room, both of you nearly jumping out of your skin when your friend clears her throat.

“I was just coming to check to see if you were ready to go,” her grin tells you she knows exactly what happened.

“I'm just going to the restroom then we can go,” she's standing right in front of the bathroom door as you make your way over.

“Who's third wheeling who's hook up now?” she whispers as you pass her.

your blush is all the way down your neck, you look back over your shoulder, “Make sure to call me okay?” and Jeongins looks at you like you've already got him wrapped around your finger.

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slutsenpai · 24 days ago

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omg I've been exploring through ur content lately and i really like the way u write can i request angst of bllk boys where their s/o died especially (itoshi brothers, karasu,chigiri,kaiser) and whatever u like

love your work 😭😭♥️

hiiii omg thank u :3 I’m not caught up in the manga so I don’t know much about michael, and I don’t remember much about karasu so I’ll write rin, sae, chigiri, and reo if that’s okay ! I like the idea of angst for reo because he has no chill lol. and full disclosure I don’t have much experience writing angst but I’ll try my best !

ブルーロック ⊹˚˖୧ without you ◞♡ itoshi sae, chigiri hyōma, itoshi rin, mikage reo

blue lock boys and how they deal with losing you content tw. death, angst, grief, substance abuse

— THOSE WHO MOVE ON.

⊹˚˖୧ sae

his personality doesn't change much at first, but he becomes even more cold and distant as the months go on. it starts to concern his friends, family, and teammates, but he refuses anyone's help for years until it starts to really impact his soccer career.

he becomes even more difficult for teams to work with. he's lucky that his soccer skill outweighs the impact of his professional relationships.

and not to get too sad but you asked for angst, so ... I feel like sae would be the most likely of these four to turn to substances after his s/o dies. he's too conceited to admit that he needs help, but he needs the distraction.

constantly goes through photos and videos of you, but usually stops when he gets to the point of tears.

alcoholism and being a world-class athlete don't really mix well, and it takes teammates, coaches, management, and therapy for him to recover.

he's overall just a bit more reckless now; he worries about his future mostly for the money, yeah, but he doesn't have anyone to take care of now, so he doesn't really give a fuck what happens to himself.

drinking, partying, lovers, some betting and gambling here and there.

sometime in his thirties, he eventually settles down with someone else but it's not the same, of course it's not. it's mostly just for public appearances and how fucking lonely he is, anything to fill that void. the emotions aren't as intense, the conversations aren't as meaningful, and the sex is nowhere near as good. it's just not you.

however, he realized that he needed to start getting his life together again. he still thinks about you daily, and the heartache never goes away completely.

sae visits your grave about every half year, and always on your birthday.

⊹˚˖୧ hyōma

he isolated himself at first but eventually opened up to his close friends. he took a lot of time off from professional soccer, the most out of the four on this list.

heartbroken would be an understatement. every aspect of his life just feels wrong without you. eating, sleeping, grocery shopping, attending events ... it all just feels off.

I’ll be honest, he cries a lot. he isn’t ashamed about it, though. he’s trying to work through his emotions and knows that he eventually needs to get help once he’s ready.

he starts to rely on his friends and goes to therapy, which he wasn't used to; but he knows that it's what you would want for him.

his friends and family don’t avoid talking about you and you’re not a “touchy subject.” chigiri encourages them to think about you and reminisce on all of the memories. you’ll always be a part of him.

he does end up dating someone new, but he really has to force himself. his mother and sister were so worried about him, and he's trying to move on to ease their concern.

still wears your wedding ring for almost two years. the new girlfriend is not happy about it, but when she brings it up, chigiri snaps.

“what, so insecure that you’re jealous over someone who's dead?”

it causes an argument, but he ends up putting it in the safe a few months later, mostly so people don’t assume he’s married to his current girl. she stays with him for the money, but he never proposes.

hyōma visits your grave every week at first, so he can talk to you and be alone. as he starts to heal, it's about every four months going forward.

— THOSE WHO CAN’T MOVE ON.

⊹˚˖୧ rin

he ends up being completely listless and closes himself off even more from people than he was already. he never stopped wearing his wedding ring.

rin is enough of a loner as is. when he finally found you, he knew that there could be no one else for him. it would be impossible for him to move on.

his family is worried about him, but he's always been this way, really. they're not going to push him to start another relationship.

he relies on soccer and working out to distract himself. constantly blaring music through his headphones so he can't think, working himself to exhaustion every single day. no breaks, no women.

being exhausted and always wanting to sleep usually backfires though, because he almost always dreams about you. usually nightmares because of how much he misses you, but he feels so relieved and content when he has a nice dream.

as the years go on, the nightmares subside and the good dreams are much more frequent.

rin visits your grave about every month or two, depending on how he's feeling and what his soccer schedule is like. always excited to share his achievements with you, and he can still imagine just what your voice sounded like and how proud you would be.

⊹˚˖୧ reo

losing you completely devastated his life. he moved in with nagi after it happened; you were the one thing that was more important to him than his best friend, and now you were gone. and nothing could undo it.

he kept all of your belongings at his house, except anything that your family wanted. he couldn't bring himself to get rid of anything. he brought some of your jewelry, books, perfumes, and plushies to nagi's place. reo's own home now sits cold and unlived.

I kinda feel like he would slut himself out in an attempt to ease his pain. he was lonely, vulnerable, and attractive. he would fuck friends, acquaintances, randoms — some of which he didn't even know their names.

reo still wore his wedding ring except on nights that he was looking for hookups. even when he did have it on, it's not like that stopped most people who were trying to get close to him for his money, anyway.

nagi would try his best to support reo, but they were both pretty awful at communicating their emotions. reo relied on nagi to a toxic extent, becoming even more possessive over his friend now that he didn't have you to care for.

on really bad nights, he'll cuddle up with nagi and cry into his chest for hours, even years after losing you. luckily reo doesn’t drink often, or these nights would be even worse.

reo visits your grave for most holidays or whenever he’s feeling lonely, always making sure that you have a fresh and pretty bouquet that reflects the seasons.

⟢ @slutsenpai ⟣ // masterlist // navigation

notes. thank u for the request, nonnie! I hope that u like it :) likes, reblogs & comments much appreciated!◞♡ do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing anywhere for any reason.

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dollsxcaptains · 25 days ago

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DeadDoveDontEat | DontLikeDontRead 18+

Incel! Peter Parker, is such good material for a creepy yandere who isn't aware of how he comes off... I love him, internet stalking, non consensual photo taking, threats/violence, mastubation

꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦꒷︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶꒷꒦

Peter is the sweetest neighbor ever but he just lingers a bit too much..

You feel guilty feel guilty for feeling so uncomfortable with his rather odd behaviors when he's such a nice guy..but fuck is he odd.

like for example; His insistence to help you whenever he catches you even slightly struggling to complete a task would be endearing if when he wouldn't overstay his "welcome" in your apartment after helping you. I mean you wouldn't be so creeped if he actually was good company rather than it being you awkwardly standing there while he stumbles over asking you strange and rather invasive questions.

Or how he's always finding a reason to touch you. Not just a graze of his calloused fingers against your delicate skin....and not just a firm yet friendly squeeze to your shoulder.. No. Peter loves to give his darling hugs that feels like they should be reserved for meeting up with your long distance partner and not your neighbor that could barely be considered a "friend" with how intimate they feel. And there have been times where he’s been extra excited to see you and you’ve felt something poking at you…

He also has a habit of caressing your arm the entire time he's talking to you or rubbing circles on your knees with his thumb.

Should I even mention his staring? Who knew that such beautiful, doey brown eyes could make you feel so unsettled. You're not even sure if Peter knows just how wide and intense his gaze is whenever he's around you. Or if he knows that it's considered to be inappropriate to stare at someone as long as he manages to. You’ve started to avoid wearing anything a bit too tight or revealing as he really cannot make anything subtle. You know he’s enamored by you but damn is he extremely socially stunted.

Peter is naturally clingy with an anxious attachment style even with barely being acquainted with him. He needs to be around you, to insert himself into your life, he's incredibly desperate for your acknowledgement and praise. He'll do anything, anything, anything to get even a half smile out of you. Peter is a pathetic little thing.

Against your better judgment you couldn't say no Pete when he begged asked for your number, or rather you couldn't think of a good excuse without it blatantly coming of as lying... The way he blows up your phone, eagerly anticipating a response from you. No, it doesn't matter to him if you do respond because he's going to keep texting regardless.

hey, this is Pete!

Ur neighbor in apartment 114 ^^

I really enjoyed helping u out today w/ everything

I mean I always enjoy being around u even when you don't need my help

lol

so....wyd

i'm just working on a couple of personal projects

i'd tell you about it but it's super stupid and nerdy lol

i wouldn't wanna bore u xD

but if u do want to know I could tell u and I’ve been told I’m really good at explaining scientific stuff

not that u need explaining

U like science fiction??

Speaking of he’s also found all of your social media but you gave him your number knowing all of your social media is connected to it…so basically you wanted him to add you on all of them. He spam likes every post even dating back a few years, he replies to them and your stories like you’re personally speaking to him.

Don’t post your locations until after you’ve left because he will try and bump into you there and have a “cute” interaction with you. Actually don't post your locations at all because he will hideout there and get your routines and take notes of your orders and casually slip up about it in conversation…

I do love the idea of Peter not knowing how to function when he's jealous. Depending on the Peter he might get a bit more agitated than others but overall he's an insecure wreck.

He goes on about how that guy gives him weird vibes and that you should be careful because of how New York is filled with weirdos. You need someone who is an alright guy and will handle you with care. Sure that guy is super handsome, muscular and charming but maybe..that isn’t always a great thing

Peter thinks he’s going you a great service by getting a background check on the guy and finding out he like stole something when he was a teenager. You’re terrified that Peter, your very weird neighbor was able to find him after only seeing him once in person and maybe knowing only his first name.

You explain to him that it isn’t his place and that some boundaries need to be placed.

Depending on the Peter I could imagine him going out as Spider-Man to scare and beat the ever living shit out of him then going all bloodied back to your apartment, standing over your sleeping body while he goes on about how you just don’t understand and that he’s protecting you. He’s probably palming himself while he does it too.

Oh and that’s something he does a lot. Sneaking into your apartment at least. Either stole the key from under your welcome mat or from the front desk lady and got it copied. He just comes in while you’re out, maybe tidies up a bit or leaves gifts for you. Sometimes he steals your clothes and messily cums all over them. Don’t worry he puts them through the wash before leaving.

Speaking of Spider-Man, he stalks you all across the city. Goes out of his way to interact with you and everything. Maybe following you back on his Spider-Man account and even sending a few messages..

You, like all of New York, is a fan of him until you started having nightmares about him. He reminds you so much of your pesky neighbor and since then you try to avoid going out at night so you have less of a chance at running into the masked hero.

It’s funny because Peter is convinced if you can’t fall in love with himself then he’s more than willing to make sure you fall in love with Spider-Man which is the cooler version of himself. But he negates the fact that the mask doesn’t make the creepiness go away.

Could you imagine catching peter taking photos of you? Like he’s convinced that you must find it flattering that he’s taking so many lovely photos of you. Isn’t that every girl’s dream to be admired?

Why are you hiding behind a tree to get the shot, Pete? And why are so many taken low and a little too..

Peter is definitely the type of person that’d want you to meet his aunt may, which is like the equivalent of meeting his mother. Again this wouldn’t be weird if you were like…friends or something with Peter but he’s just your neighbor who won’t leave you alone. The meeting is awkward for you. It’s clear that Peter goes on and on about you. She acts as if you’re literally his girlfriend which in her defense he probably alluded to you being so.

You want to desperately give him the benefit of the doubt but Peter makes it so hard.

#headcanon #x reader #yandere imagines #oneshot #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere peter parker #yandere spiderman #peter parker x reader #ps4 peter parker x reader #ps5 Peter Parker x reader #insomniac spiderman #insomniac peter parker #tasm peter parker #tom holland spiderman #dark peter parker #spiderman nwh

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klemen-tine · 1 year ago

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Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse

Part 1

Part 2

@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol

+++++++++++++

Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them.

They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career.

Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air.

Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully.

“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed.

“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent.

Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden.

A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast.

The unfairness of it all.

“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans.

“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions.

When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food.

“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.”

“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.”

Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about.

“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’”

“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor.

Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of.

They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness.

It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne.

Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.”

“Just get in the car, Y/N!”

“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!”

“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!”

“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.”

“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.”

Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in.

“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened.

They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family.

“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.”

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile.

“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?”

“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands.

“How many does this make?”

“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.”

“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips.

Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy.

Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother.

Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears-

“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other.

Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners?

“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now.

Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.”

“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip.

“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.”

++++

“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal.

Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers.

“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?”

“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.”

‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up.

“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.”

“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.” Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?”

Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her.

True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–

“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?”

Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side.

“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?”

“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat.

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.”

“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly.

Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises.

Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest.

However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something?

‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that.

Would he?

“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?”

Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.”

Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there.

Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them.

Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves.

It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis.

“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question.

“How–”

“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.

“Now Y/N-”

“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions.

“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.”

“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker.

“What parent doesn’t know-”

“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.”

Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing.

“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras.

“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out.

“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?”

“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person.

“Y/N! Look over here!”

“Look!”

“Over here!”

A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.

The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present.

“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection.

“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.”

“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face.

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.”

“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.”

“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.”

Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.”

“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look.

“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.”

“Others won’t believe that.”

“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.”

“And your’s do?”

“We are family!”

“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly.

Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.”

“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew?

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is!

I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.”

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care.

“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!

“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel.

They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t.

“Bruce finally sees it too.”

Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry–

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?”

– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.”

“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.”

Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–”

“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!

How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away.

“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face.

Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.”

“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep.

Because why not.

“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.”

“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail.

“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral.

“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction.

A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be.

If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.

Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids?

Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image.

It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in.

Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here.

“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open.

“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.”

“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore.

They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.”

“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner.

E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room.

Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint.

“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?”

‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.”

“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…”

“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.”

When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions.

Hovering or distancing.

Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it.

“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands.

“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show.

However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too.

“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’

“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you.

However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting.

“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father.

“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.”

“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.”

“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article.

Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.

“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–”

“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen.

Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage

Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.

“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.

“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees.

“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist.

“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along.

“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.” Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?”

Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?

“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.”

+++++

“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers.

“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!”

“Good job Y/N!”

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch.

“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises.

“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on.

Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought.

The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple.

“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further.

Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face.

In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’

Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.

Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow.

“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more.

“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.”

“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist.

He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #batman x reader #bruce wayne #platonic batman #platonic batfam #yandere imagines #gender neautral reader #batman x gn reader #Yandere batman #batfam x male reader #Batfamily x female reader #Batfamily x gender neutral reader

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lsd-astronaut · 4 months ago

Text

Random headcanons of the fellowship bc I'm bored (mix of modern & canon)

✨Frodo

Scares the shit out of people by staring them directly in the eye without blinking but if you looked inside his mind, it'd be a rotating PNG of a fish, he just dissociates a lot

Would absolutely steal stuff in Claire's. He's really good at it.

Doesn't smoke, yet he is the one who gets asked the most out of the four hobbits for a light.

He strikes me as a stomach problems & back pain girlie.

🌻Sam

He looks like a bread guy for me. I like bread.

Full on conversations with his plants. Mainly gossip about the Shire, and how dashing Mister Frodo was looking today, can you believe it?

The only hobbit with a driving license (Frodo can't bc of depression and dissociation; Merry got pulled over and got his license revoked for having weed in his car; Pippin is a minor).

🍁Merry

You know these videos where a girl (usually) records her partner while they're cuddling and he's so whiny and talking like a princess, and suddenly he sees the phone and forces his voice like three octaves lower? Yeah...

Narrates everything that everyone in the fellowship does during the journey like it's a nature documentary. Stopped pretty quickly after Moria.

The Walter White of Middle Earth if he could get away with it, let's be honest.

🌱Pippin

Had a phase where he ate anything he saw. Mainly stopped after Merry made him cry by teasing him that if he kept eating ants, they would eat him from inside out. He still munches on flowers when he's bored. Aragorn has given up on telling him to be careful in case one is poisonous, but Boromir suffers mini heart attacks daily.

Accidentally mansplains to everyone he knows but that's because he gets very excited with his hyperfixations! He has no idea why he doesn't have any luck in love, and Merry is like "dude shut the fuck up..."

Is like these children who will constantly ask "why" to their parents, and Boromir tries to be nice and genuine for him but he eventually gets tired. "But, why?" "Because I fucking said so!" "Okay... but why?"

I feel like he cries pretty easily about everything and anything. He is just very sensitive, and feels emotions really strongly.

🗡️Aragorn

Hates parties; when he is forced to attend one, he will sit in one corner and sip on his drink. Gets really drunk and texts Arwen. "How was the party, meleth nín?" "Me, yes."

Hyperfixates on the weirdest things like Pippin, but his autism shows in the most deadpan way possible so he just stands there like "i like swords" and will emotionlessly list you all the characteristics of your weapon of choice. If you looked inside his mind, you'd see he is REALLY excited. He just doesn't know how to show it.

🏹Legolas

For some reason, I feel like he'd know a super random skill? Like ventriloquism. Recreates the "hi my name is snapple" video with Gimli just to fuck with him.

Can actually whistle with a leaf, idk how he does this, but it's the only 'instrument' he can play (apart from his voice if you want to get nitpicky with me) lol this elf does not have a single musical bone.

⛏️Gimli

Crystal girlie. Gives Frodo an encyclopaedia on all the types of healing properties and characteristics of every kind of gem and stone.

Really good medical skills. The rest of the fellowship regularly forget his uncle is Oín, so they're dumbfounded when Gimli gives advice to Aragorn, who is the only one that isn't surprised and actually listens to him when patching up Frodo lmfao

🛡️Boromir

Talks like someone out of a Shakespeare play and is dumbfounded when everyone in the fellowship is like "sup bro"

Keeps a heart locket with a picture of Faramir he likes to show like a proud dad does with his kids' wallet photos. Faramir was horrified when he learned of this and stopped talking to him for a month

Took to the hobbits like a dad who says he doesn't want a dog and then they're inseparable. Says he doesn't have favourites but Merry and Pippin remind him of Faramir and him when they were kids.

#lotr #lotr headcanons #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #merry brandybuck #pippin took #aragorn #legolas #gimli #boromir

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scorpioriesling · 4 months ago

Note

Can you write an eris smut fic with prompt 27?

The Right Swipe

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

Pairing(s): Modern!Eris x reader

Warning(s): smut, 18+, mdni

Summary: You finally decided to swipe right -- and thank God you did. That's all I'll say for now.

SR’s Note: Two posts in one day?? Wow, I must really love you guys. (; This uses prompt #27 from my request masterlist! I hope you enjoy; I actually had so much fun writing this one, LOL.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @freakishfandomfiend (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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

You hummed as you flitted about your room, preparing for your date tonight. Finally, after swiping left on hundreds of guys did you swipe right on one of them. And boy, was he worthy of a right swipe.

Stopping before the mirror, you inspected your outfit. Sure, it was windy tonight in the city, but you felt that the mini skirt was a must. You were dining at quite the upscale eatery anyway, and you needed to make a good first impression.

The buzzing of your cell phone halted your oogling. You picked it up, seeing your best friend's face filling the screen.

"Hey!"

"Hey! What's up?" You asked, staring at the grainy screen concealing your friend's face.

"Nothing much -- I was just going to see if you left for your date yet." Nesta wiggled her eyebrows, and you chuckled.

"Not yet, I'm almost done getting ready though." Nesta grinned.

"Let me see the outfit!"

You obliged, turning the camera to show your outfit off in the mirror. She clapped in approval, nodding her head.

"Gorgeous, darling -- simply stunning," she complimented. You curtsied playfully, and turned the camera back around to show your face. "What time were you getting back? I can wait up if you want."

You shrugged.

"Honestly, I'm not sure yet -- we're eating near Times Square, so it's not too far from the apartment," you huffed, working to slip on your shoes.

"Hopefully not too early," Nesta mused, and you barked out a laugh.

"Yeah, let's hope not." You tugged on the other shoe, and straightened your blouse.

"I have your location too -- remember, you shared it with me?" Nesta said seriously. "So if anything happens-"

"I know, I know; if he ends up being an axe murderer, you'll show up and decapitate his weiner. I remember," you giggled, thinking of the prior conversation the two of you shared. She chuckled, but her expression remained serious.

"I wasn't joking either -- but, I hope you have a good time. I know the guy will, you're looking hot!" She winked, and you waved a hand at her. "Call me if you need me, okay? I’m just across the bridge in Brooklyn you know, I can be there in an instant."

Given the typical New York traffic, you knew that wasn't true -- but you flashed her a knowing look anyway.

"I will, I will -- talk to you later?"

"I'll talk to you later."

She hung up, and you turned to the mirror once more. You'd spent so much time fussing over your blouse, picking at it and tucking it in -- but as one shoulder hung over the curve of your arm, you decided it looked best this way. In an act of hope that this date would be successful, you opted for your glitter strap Victoria's Secret bra; with the shoulder exposed, it shone just perfect.

Hopefully, he'd take the bait.

･ﾟ: *✧

Your ponytail swung lightly in the breeze as you walked the few blocks toward the restaurant. You'd been to Times Square a million times, sure -- but as far as spending time there, with money you didn't have? That was a no.

The address he gave you to meet at approached on your phone screen, and you glanced around for any sight of the red hair you'd seen in his photos. There weren't any.

Sighing, you looked closer at the restaurant. When you peered through the dim windows, your breath hitched in your throat.

You knew Butter was an exclusive bar and dining scene -- but you hadn't realized how exclusive. Inside, expensive drinks were poured over ice, the bottles they came from returning to a wine racked wall made of solid gold. Low, glittering lights lit the tables, and every guest in there looked to own no less than a million bucks.

Shit.

You pulled out your phone to text, but the door opened and a thin man in a suit greeted you. He ushered you inside, and despite your pounding heart -- you obliged.

"Good evening, miss." He greeted, and you immediately tucked your phone away, not wanting to seem impolite.

"Hello," you said wearily. The man grinned at your response.

"Are you dining alone this evening, or waiting for guests?"

Your palms felt clammy as you fumbled with your purse, working to shove your phone inside.

"I... uh..."

Your spine straightened as a warm hand slid against the small of your back, and your chin whipped in the direction in which it came from.

And oh... my... God. The white button down, rolled up at the sleeves. His hair was perfectly styled, the flaming red a contrast to the dim lighting in the room. The black dress pants, the black leather belt...

Your mouth watered at the sight.

"She's with me, Aaron," his whiskey smooth tone nearly sent a shiver down your spine. "Two for Vanserra."

Aaron, apparently, nodded and gestured to the long bar sitting before the golden wall.

"Always a pleasure, Eris -- please, enjoy a few beverages from the bar as we finish preparing your table."

Eris nodded, and your skin felt electric with every touch point he had on you. He guided you toward the bar, his hand not leaving your back. He only retracted it to pull out a barstool for you -- and you graced him with a soft smile.

"Thank you," you said quietly as he sat beside you.

He chuckled, leaning his forearms against the bar's edge. His amber eyes met yours sidelong, and your skin flushed.

"Anytime, darling."

You were grateful he looked toward the wall of alochol, because your cheeks rapidly flushed.

The bartender approached the two of you, giving Eris a knowing look before sliding his gaze to you. He continued polishing a glass as he adressed the two of you.

"Mr. Vanserra, always a pleasure," he said warmly. Eris nodded back at him.

"Of course Landon, of course," his warm tone made you feel... at ease. Landon glanced to you, and Eris looked between the two of you.

"This is my date this evening -- Miss Y/N Y/L/N," he introduced, and you gave Landon a smile.

"Nice to meet you," you said, and Landon nodded.

"The pleasure is all mine, miss -- what will you be having this evening?"

Your mind raced as you decided what to drink, but Eris answered with practiced grace.

"My usual, please," he said. Landon nodded and looked to you.

"And, for you?"

You contemplated, finally settling on what sounded most appealing.

"A dirty martini please -- extra olives?"

Landon winked at you, uttering a "you got it" before heading off in search of the ingredients. You took a calming breath before turning to Eris, catching him as he was already staring at you.

"So..." you said nervously, deciding on a good place to start. You started with the most basic of questions, trying to make the conversation easy. "What do you, uh, do for work?"

Eris's left brow rose a millimeter, a small smirk finding its way onto his lips. He was quiet a moment before he answered, his warm, silky tone washing over you once more.

"I'm the head of an accounting firm," he responded, his eyes gazing lazily into yours. "Started, oh, five years ago?" He tilts his head in thought. "Yeah, about five years."

You nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"And, you? What's brought you to the city?"

You chuckled, readjusting your position on the stool.

"How do you know I'm not from here?"

Your question must have caught him off cuard, because he let out a short huff of a laugh as his expression showed a knowing response.

You huffed, looking elsewhere before answering.

"I... I moved to the city last year, I uh... I got a job in fashion." You said the last part with less confidence, as usually when you told people you worked in fashion, you were not taken as seriously.

However, Eris seemed to lean forward in his seat.

"Tell me more about that."

･ﾟ: *✧

Three hours and just as many drinks later, you found yourself struggling to contain your laughter.

"Wait -- you're telling me you did all of that, in front of your entire family?" The tears pricked the back of your eyes you laughed so hard. Eris chuckled, leaning against the table as he nodded.

"I swear it! Literally the most embarassed I've ever felt," he laughed, his words coming out choppy. He'd had maybe one less whiskey than you did, but he still seemed to be enjoying himself.

The waiter made his way toward your corner table, carrying a small black booklet. When he approached the table, he set it down softly, looking between you and Eris.

"Greetings, again -- were you ready for the bill, or was there something else I could get for you?"

His question had you wiping the tears from your eyes, and sobering up rather quickly. You were conscious in ordering tonight, as the dining here was quite expensive; you didn't want to be embarassed if you couldn't cover your half of the bill.

"No, no we should be alright," Eris reigned in his chuckles, quickly and gracefully plucking the folded leather from the edge of the table. He effortlessly slid his card inside, and handed it back to the waiter. "You can charge 20% for the tip, too -- great service tonight."

The waiter nodded appreciatively, and your eyes widened as he walked off.

"Hey, I uh... I can cover at least my half," you offered, but Eris simply waved a hand.

"No worries -- I got it this time." He smiled, and in a rush of confidence, you blurted out the first thought that came to mind.

"Thank you, Eris... I'll get it next time."

A slow grin spread across his face at your words, and you found yourself blushing. He licked his lips in intrigue before the waiter approached once more, handing the receipt back to Eris.

"Thank you for dining with us this evening, and we hope you have a wonderful rest of your night."

Eris stood, shaking the waiters hand before moving to grip the back of your chair. He slid you out from under the table, and you scowled mentally at the way your heart fluttered. Nonetheless, his hand returned to your back as he led you from the restaurant.

Stepping out into the chilly night air, you blew out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding. Eris sighed, looking up at the moon before fixing his gaze on you again. Neither of you spoke as moments passed between you, only the shared breaths and sounds of the city heard between you.

When you finally spoke, you both did at once.

"I don't want the night to end yet."

"I'm not ready to walk you home."

You both laughed at the overlap, and you took a moment to process his words. I'm not ready to walk you home yet.

Your heart fluttered once more.

"I... if you want to, we can, go for a stroll then?" You suggested. He smiled, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close enough that you could smell his expensive cologne.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea."

And with that, you were off. You turned corner after corner, no direction in mind or care that you were walking the city streets at nearly midnight. Eris was with you, and the way the conversation flowed so easily between the two of you... you felt safe.

The topic of conversation ranged so wide, there was no real way to limit what was on the table or off to discuss. At dinner, you'd gotten to know him a little better; his family, his job, what his friends were like -- his most embarassing moment. But out here, where the air was clearer and the options were limitless, you felt like you could talk with him for hours.

"So, what made you choose fashion?" He asked, his words only running together a little bit as the alcohol took more of an affect. You turned the corner, passing Macy's before you answered.

"Well, as a girl I loved the aesthetics, how you could do so many things with only raw materials; then, I took up designing, and got my degree in fashion technology." You explained. He looked to you in amusement, and you grinned. "Now, I'm here."

His eyes strayed from your face only for a moment, fixating on the glittery strap across your shoulder. He looked to you again, pausing in front of the Van Leeuwen's ice cream shop as he took your hand in his.

"My apartment is just around the corner," he said softly, gazing into your eyes with sincerity. Your heart throbbed; you didn't want him to go, not just yet. Despite his rich-boy first impression, you were quite enjoying every moment of the date with him.

"Oh," is all you could think to say. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth, as he inched closer to your face.

"I... usually, I don't bring anyone to my apartment. Only my family, my friends," he explained. "And, I definately don't want to give you the wrong impression... blow this whole thing up, I mean." he continues. You nod silently, your lips mere inches from eachother.

"It's been such a great night, but... I just don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet," he admits shyly, the rosiness on his cheeks so at odds with his outward appearance. You can't help but to grin, your hand brushing the exposed skin of his forearm from his rolled up sleeves.

Your gaze found his once more, as you whispered back.

"I don't want to go, either."

With that, his fingers closed around yours as his lips pressed against your own.

･ﾟ: *✧

You barely registered how many floors the elevator passed as Eris pressed you against the mirrored wall, his lips devouring your own with a certain sense of hunger. The soft dings during your ascent were lost as you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him back to you over, and over, and over again.

It was only a few minutes more before Eris pulled away, glancing toward the digital number and sighing. You couldn't help but giggle, taking in the 28 on the wall before the doors slid open and you followed him out. His hand held yours firmly as he led you down the hallway. Glancing around, you didn't notice any other entrances besides the one at the end; and your breaths quickened.

"What floor is this again?" You asked, out of breath. Eris quickly fished his keys from his pocket, flicking through them and shoving one into the door lock.

"Twenty eight," he said, just as breathless.

"And... how many floors are in this building?" You asked. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, turning to you with a devilish smirk.

"Twenty eight."

He strode in, tugging you right along with him. Your eyes widened at the expensive apartment, the vast marble countertops, the winding staircase, the rows upon rows of bookshelves...

"Eris," you breathed. He stepped behind you, locking the door and then wrapping his arms around your waist. "You... you're... this is the penthouse," you said, almost in realization.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as his soft lips met the column of your neck, kissing softly up to your ear.

"Mhmm," he purred, softly biting on the lobe. Your breath hitched as he spoke softly into your ear.

"That's not really what you want to ask me though, is it," he teased, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. Your thighs squeezed together, the heat radiating off of him getting you hot.

"I..." you trailed off, almost too lost in the moment to think straight. "W-where... is your bed?"

He chuckled darkly behind you, kissing your neck once more before turning you around and lifting you into his arms. Your legs wound around his waist as he took a step toward the hallway, his hands squeezing your ass as he walked.

"Good girl."

･ﾟ: *✧

The mattress dipped as Eris set you atop it, smirking down at you as he made quick work of removing his shirt. You stared up at him, over the rippling muscles in his stomach, the veins cording his forearms. He was handsome, sure -- but like this, he was devastating.

"You seem to know a lot about fashion," he said, his tone low. His fingers slid beneath the gemstone band of your bra, rubbing over the strap in admiration. “But, do you realize that I can see your bra through that blouse?”

You giggled, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

"Hmm, no, I guess I didn't," you played dumb. He shook his head slowly, his fingers tracing over the curve of your breasts and hooking under the waistband of your skirt. He pulled it over your thighs, your knees, and all the way off. He blew out a long breath as he shamelessly oogled you, admiring the matching panties you adorned.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he tutted, his thumb stroking over your clothed clit. "I guess you also didn't realize that lying will only get you punished."

Your walls fluttered at his words.

He sank to his knees before you, his head settling just between your legs. He hooked two fingers around the lace of your panties, bringing them to the side before brushing his forefinger over your folds. You sucked in a breath as you gazed down at him, his eyes searching yours for permission.

"The moment you want me to stop -- I'll stop."

You nod in understanding, and he leans in. His mouth brushes along the inside of your thigh, soft kisses peppering your thighs. His fingers rub against your clit, the mix of sensations pulling your insides into a knot.

"Mmm," you hummed, lying flat on the bed as his lips inched closer to your core. His tongue slid through your folds and you sighed, one of your hands reaching down to thread through his auburn locks. He continued licking and tasting every inch of your pussy, soft groans vibrating against it as he groaned in pleasure. Your core tightened, especially when he inserted two fingers into your throbing hole.

"Oh...Eris, oh-" You sucked in a breath, your walls clenching around his fingers as he pumped them in and out. His lips sucked and played with your clit, and you squirmed against the feeling of his mouth and fingers. Just as you felt the knot tying tighter in your stomach... he stopped.

He pulled his fingers from you, and moved to stand between your knees instead. Your brows knit in frustration, and he licked his lips as he gazed down at you.

"Be a good girl for me -- and I'll let you cum," he declared. You raised an eyebrow, inching back on the bed as he slid his belt from his hips.

"Fuck me good, Eris, and I'll do just that."

A low chuckle sounded in his chest as he leaned forward, gripping either side of your blouse and yanking. Buttons flew about, and you gasped in horror.

"Eris! That was-"

"I'll buy you another one," he growled, moving to hover over you. His fingers slid the glittery straps over your shoulders -- but he didn't fully take your bra off. Instead, he undid his pants and finally freed his aching cock; his huge. Cock.

"Take off your underwear." He demanded. You listened, sliding the lacy thing down your legs and lying flat on your back again. He smirked, rubbing his hand over his cock as he positioned it before your entrance.

"Hmm, she listens," he teases, and you bite your bottom lip.

"Beautiful, funny, interesting... and a good listener? What more could I wish for?"

You blush at his compliments, momentarily forgetting how close he was to driving his cock inside of you. It wasn't long though before the stretch happened, and you adjusted to his size as he continued sliding in.

"Oh.... Eris, oh God," you panted, every tantalizing inch more pleasureable. When he finally reached the hilt, he pulled out -- only to slide in once more.

You groaned in protest, wanting him to fuck you faster; instead, he took both wrists in one hand, holding them above your head.

"Hold still for me, baby."

He slid out, and shoved his cock back in. You squeaked at the sudden change of pace, reveling in the feeling coming from him fucking you hard. Your mouth fell open as you gazed up at him, his concentrated expression focused on yours as he drove his length in over, and over, and over.

"Eris," you breathed, your eyes rolling back in your head. He continued pounding into you, only slowing as your pussy clenched around him once more.

"No no no," you groaned, and he leaned in to kiss your lips at once. His cock slid from you, and his hand released your wrists. You ran your hands through his hair, your tongue slipping in only once before he stood again.

"Flip over for me," he said, his hand fisting his cock again as his eyes roamed the expanse of your body. You immediately slid onto your stomach, your hair fanning across your back as you lifted your hips. You heard his growl of approval behind you, and you spread your knees to better accomodate the new position.

His hands braced your hips instantly, his hard length pressing against your ass. You wiggled your hips against him -- only to soon be met with a spank against your right buttcheek.

You gasped, and Eris pressed the tip of his cock against your hole once more.

"Don't do that," he warned. "Or else I'll cum."

He drove his cock in, not wasting any time this round as he set a punishing pace. His right hand left your hip to wrap around the base of your ponytail, causing the arch in your back to accentuate as he rammed his cock in more forcefully.

"So gorgeous like this," he praised, his breaths ragged. Your ass bounced with every thrust of his cock, and though you couldn't see it, he was having a hard time prying his gaze away from the sight.

"Yes, yes, yes," every snap of his hips illicited a gasp from you, especially as he fucked into you at a new angle. He drew your back up to his chest, his arm wrapping around your ribs to grab at your breast.

"You wanna cum, baby?" He asked nicely. You huffed in response, the way his fingers pinched at your nipple through the lace of your bra. the friction caused you to shake, the sensations rolling through you while you struggled to keep your orgasm at bay.

"Please," you whispered. Eris groaned low beside your ear, his lips attaching to your neck once more before leaving a playful bite.

You cried out in pleasure, the tidal wave finally overflowing inside of you. Wet, clear cum dripped down your thighs as Eris drove his cock deep into your pussy a final time, feeling every clench your walls gave him. He released every ounce of cum deep within your throbbing core, his arms holding you close to him as the both of you chased out your highs together.

When he finally pulled out, you sighed, lying down on his silky sheets once more. He retrieved a washcloth, and delicately wiped you off before cleaning up himself and tossing it aside. Sliding his own underwear back on, he lied down beside you.

You turned your head, searching his returning gaze for an answer. He offered a small smile as he leaned in, brushing a stray hair from your forehead.

"I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready to let you go."

･ﾟ: *✧

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of silver flames #acosf #a court of frost and starlight #acotar smut #acofas #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra #eris fanfic #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #read more

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elliesglock · 4 months ago

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alright so we back mofos. i deleted my original AMAZING timeline so we're gonna run it back with anotherrrr updated timeline!

2016:

everybody knows that i know paige met azzi before azzi met her. and it's very invisible string theory imo. paige met azzi before their official meeting at team usa. paige and azzi had an aau tournament that overlapped during summer in 2016. azzi is 14 and paige is 15. azzi is playing 2 grades above her age group in her aau league against paige's au team but she's not playing paige. there's a part in the full game video where it cuts to the sideline and we see big grinning cheesy paige watching the game. from what we know about paige and how she is with azzi, i think she had her eye on azzi. i mean in the part of the video paige is in azzi makes a play and it cuts to paige grinning and looking away all shy. the way her expression is makes her look like she's just seen her crush. and i think she literally did. she's picking at her face and having some nervous ticks in that portion of the video. so i said in my original timeline paige had a secret admirer thing going on. and i 100% stand by that. paige brings up in the slam interview that she knew azzi for 3 years (in 2019) so that timeline lines up with her first seeing azzi. now azzi doesn't remember this, therefore she says she met paige 2 years ago. and i just admire that so much 😭. she was focused on her game and paige was focused on her type shit. and the invisible string theory really comes into play when you think about paige REMEBERING THIS and it meaning so much to her. like that was the first time she ever saw her girl. i feel like she would've been completely transfixed by azzi and would've felt something she had never felt before and knewwww azzi was different. ugh my little baby soulmates i cry. it literally gives love at first sight. paige obviously doesn't talk to azzi i don't think until they meet officially in 2017 in the usa trials. do i think paige found her instagram and started stalking it? 100%. i just don't think she followed or liked any of azzi's photos until 2017 when azzi most likely gave her, her instagram. so essentially paige has been plotting on azzi for a total of 9 years since they were literally fetuses. no surprise there from p honestly we're not broaching new territory. imo pazzi have always been soulmates and meant to find each other. like the universe knew what it was doing putting them in the same arena, to find each other. it's always been on their side.

2017:

this is when they officially meet at usa. this is the time azzi remembers lol. i think paige initiated everything due to what they both have said. and if we think about how she already had a crush on azzi prior, it's not crazy to say she wanted to initiate conversation because azzi was literally her crush or at least someone she admired. i think p saw her again and was like oh yes that pretty girl that was at my aau tournament i've been watching her for a bit let's go make friends with her. plotting p yet again. this is just the first peg in her multi-step generational bag scheme. azzi very obviously was young and definitely had a shy demeanor to her. and she was not ready for the fireball that was about to be hurled at her face named paige. i think paige really did try talking to her which is why i don't believe p when she said that they "didn't talk very much off the court". but maybe azzi wasn't really feeling it and was standoffish and so that's why she said they didn't talk much. i also think they have a very shy, sneaky kinda vibe when they talk about usa. as if they were doing something then that they weren't supposed to. i've said in many of my analyses, paige and azzi talk about things sometimes like they know more than they're letting on. and they def do. i think they talk a bit during usa and maybe a little more....oop and then get on the plane to go home. now paige is not gonna let this opportunity slide and is still trying to slide her way into azzi's good graces. so ofc she's going to sit with her on the plane and yap her ear off. great rizz lil paigey you're doing amazing sweetie. i guess paige felt as though this was her BIGGEST bag bc i know azzi was SICK of listening to that girl. they've mentioned in their slam interview they got back home to minnesota and that's when they "really" became friends. which i can believe. i think they just went to see other more and started something. i've never believed they were just bsfs for a long period of time, i think they were IMMEDIATELY messing with each other as soon as they met. and i think it reallyyyyy starts when they get back.

2018:

i think they're still in that fwb kinda situation, but they're friends. they see each other quite a bit in 2018, their tournaments overlap and they have similar basketball schedules so they probs were seeing each their. i know it's a hot take but i think they were being sneaky around these meet ups and like kissing behind closed doors and maybe staying with each other and having...fun. im still conflicted on whether people knew or not. i'm sure paige and azzi told their friends they were messing around. i think paige is very much the type to talk about her all the time and im sure her friends knew ALLLL the details of what was happening between them. same with azzi but she's not as bad as a yapper so im sure some things were kept private. however i dont think their parents knew. their dynamic at this point def gave they were trying to be discreet and act like friends but were doing things private. and maybe it was a homoerotic friendship where they didn't feel as though the way they were being intimate they were just kinda having fun as friends? idk im not completely sure 😭 they def didn't subconsciously see each other friends though. they were flying back and forth seeing each other a lot, and also preparing for more usa tournaments so im not surprised it turned into what they had here. they were practically unable to separate 😭

2019

there's two weird shifts and one comes here, and one comes in 2020. they're, again, together ALLL the time in 2019. againnnn at the scene of the crime flying back and forth to be with each other. and these meetups def meant more than just a friendly encounter, they were coming to see other knowing EXACTLY what was gonna go down. in early 2019, azzi comes and watches paige's state championship game. and i'm sure celebrations were in order cough cough. that supportive aspect of their relationship has always been there even if they weren't technically dating. i use to think they were dating in high school just because of the sheer amount of times they spent together and went to support each other's big moments, but now i think they were just in a very committed situationship. i think it most likely would've been exclusive. they dedicated so much of their time together it honestly would've been hard to see anyone else. it's easy for me to say here that feelings are starting to develop/they are in love with each other, and it really sets up how they were in 2020. i mean these bitches are legit FLYING to see each other. at the big age of 16-17 years old 😭 azzi also tears her acl during this time and paige is there for her every step of the way. she prayed over her knee and carried her off the court. paige was in love with her im sorry. she was. and if these bitches try to tell you they were nonchalant and didn't have feelings for each other during this time THEY ARE LYINGGGGG. who fr carries their situationship off the court and then PRAYS over their knee. obv paige remembers how in love with her she was because she legit CRIES talking about it. feelings def were getting hard to ignore during this time, especially the way paige would've been taking care of azzi. their injuries always have the tendency to bring them closer and make them realize things. we've seen historically it happens. but anyway i'm sorry this is messy, they were def in love with each other but still in that messy kind of fwb arrangement.

2020:

hugeeeee shift. again. together all the fucking time. i mean paige legit quarantines with them. and i think it really shows her feelings for both azzi and her family. she 100% came to their house during that time for comfort. and she found solace being with azzi during such a rough time. they both had tournaments canceled, paige's high school career was over, they had to say goodbye to teammates, paige's graduation was lackluster. i mean it was just a sad time and i think it's so telling they spent it together. almost like nothing would be able to cheer them up like being with one another. i think most likely there were conversations about being together during this time. i think it would've been CRAZY not to considering they had no where else to go besides to bed with each other oop. i don't think they get together though, because paige is leaving for college soon and the distance would be something they've never experienced before. they've experienced distance but not as a couple yk? and i'm sure just being in a fwb relationship and being apart was still hard for them because they are love sick fools. so they don't get into a relationship. now you can debate me if there was some hard feelings. around this time i personally don't think there was. i think it was very amicable. paige also wins gatorade player of the year and they just go out and play basketball together a lot. it's very exclusively one another. like i was saying before they had no time for anyone else. who's paige realistically going to get with during this time? what she's gonna bring em back to azzi's house? like no 😭. all in all, they decide to stick to casual and remain the way they've always been. maybe there's convos about seeing other people to explore their options once paige gets to college. i could very much seeing that happening.

2021:

paige is in college, azzi's still at home finishing up high school. that casual relationship is VERYYYY casual because i personally think they were talking to other people and exploring their options with other people. im not the one to play into uconn anon shenanigans with paige being a player. that was not happening sorry to all who believe. was she probably talking to other people? yes. but nothing was done to intentionally hurt azzi and vice versa. they both mutually agreed to be in that kinda arrangement with each other in my mind. now considering they were both probably VERY much in love with each other but weren't admitting it, im sure this was a hard time for them. i don't think they were getting revenge on each other with other people tho thats stupid. they most likely hated being apart and both were in the trenches, but i dont think they were bringing up their feelings like they maybe should have. paige also makes her feels playlist around this time. and it's such a driving force in why i feel like they weren't together at this time, the bitch was in the trenches like cmon. nobody that has newly go into a relationship is making feels playlist saying "nobody is taking their baby" and "that should be me". which also brings me back into thinking that paige prob disliked azzi was talking to other people. ITS VERY NORMAL GUYS. they were young and feelings are hard and they also had A LOT of things to be doing. the song, "can't be friends" in her playlist is very interesting to me. simply because i think paige felt that way. she knew she couldn't only ever just be friends with azzi you know. and maybe this time apart showed her that. being with azzi all the time leading up to this, i think it distorted her ability to be able to see that being JUST friends with azzi wasn't enough, cause she was content just being with her yk. i definitely feel like azzi wasn't maybe coming to campus every so often and seeing paige. and they probably did hu with each other. that's what they knew guys. and i'm sorry i've said this many times but paige was 100% calling azzi her girl around this time. at the end of this year, azzi comes to uconn. this is when the lines get really blurred. after being apart for so long, i think the feelings creep on them and they inadvertently stop talking to people all together. maybe it's a conscious thing where they feel like they can't be so dedicated to someone like they are and feel good about talking to other people. they 100% were still getting with each other too. i think this starts the rough patch between them. i like to call it the great pazzi war. shots were fired and orphans were created lemme tell you. i think the feelings for each other and the dynamic they've made starts to become a little too much. and it creates riffs in their relationship. i think they're both tired of the whole casual sort of arrangement and it therefore makes them argue and have harder times, but they're both idiots who just won't say "hey im in love with you, let's just get into a relationship we both want it". this leads me to 2022.

2022

we bout on year 80 of the great pazzi war atp. messy ass tt's, some little spats, shady comments. now i think they start to get better this year for sure. i do think they argue and make each other mad and being the scorpios and libras they are they post petty tik toks. aaliyah and nika im so sorry you had to go through this. i always think about the outside tik tok azzi and aaliyah made during this time. IT WAS SO MESSY. it was exactly azzi saying eat that to paige. she put on her best outfit and posted to the pettiest song basically saying i don't need you and im not dealing with you cause im going outside tn. paige's phone im so sorry that you had to be typed on that vigorously that night 💔 i know paige was texting her like azzi take that down im serious don't go out come talk to me please im sorry!!!! pleaseeeeeee. now maybe azzi stayed strong maybe she didn't. but around this time they def were beefing a bit. but they fix it guys don't worry. i think they both get sick and tired of the arguing and decide it's best to just do what they know they've always should've done, and start dating. now it might be just them testing the waters, but it's a start damnit. i think about the repost paige did where she says "when your girlfriend cries when old people are sitting alone" and azzi's friends comment on her tt saying "gfs are on this app!". it just says to me they both immediately kinda knew what they were 😭. but paige is unserious she knows she was calling azzi her girl even when she wasn't. so it doesn't surprise their friends and them already start calling each other that. i think their friends were just happy they finally stopped playing around. and it was out of pure excitement they posted those comments.

2023-2024

now i've told yall i know they got together at the end of 2023. i think they did that testing the waters relationship for about a year before fully locking in. we get A LOT of things in 2023 too. but you can tell they are really in their honeymoon era after this leading into 2024. and now they're happily married we had an amazing summer together! kids on the way talk soon

#gabi's anons 💜

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jiminrings · 1 year ago

Text

four seven eight, phase three: intermission.

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: jungkook hasn’t had any drinks so far, but he’s the rawest he’s ever been.

alternatively, jungkook has three separate conversations while he’s at the club.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

Yoongi always finds some way to piss Jungkook off.

Your husband isn’t sure if he’s just that easy to piss off or if Yoongi really is an extremely annoying person that gets on everyone’s nerves (his especially), but regardless, your friend always finds some way to set him to the edge.

Jungkook almost bended a fork with his teeth when you called out baby along with your subsequent request for him to pass the sauce, but even before he could reach for said container, Yoongi (who was sitting on the other end of the table) dashes over to your seat to give you sauce and piss him off in the process.

He almost grabbed Yoongi by the hair that one time when you were on your last shot on your film camera and you wanted to take a photo of them, but right at the last second of you taking it, Yoongi told him there was a cockroach by his feet which immediately made it look like Jungkook was bowing to him. He’s already ripped up the picture as soon as you got it developed, but the anger at the seemingly surface-level tricks he pulled on him always ate at him.

Jungkook only texted Yoongi awhile ago, and while he wasn’t expecting an immediate reply given the time difference, he almost wished the latter didn’t even respond in the first place.

you’re hwayoung’s godfather

look after her while i’m gone

The two of them have been civil, maybe even friendly at best, since yours and Jungkook’s month-long break before Hwayoung came along; Jungkook doesn’t expect much from Yoongi except for the bare minimum — the problem is that Yoongi himself wants to go above and beyond.

i know that

i don’t need you to be gone for me to look after hwayoung lol

Jungkook huffs at the insinuation, brows immediately knitted as he tries to focus his eyes on his phone that seems to be the brightest source of light in the dimmed, packed club.

He can admit to himself (to you too, but never to anyone else especially Yoongi) that he can sometimes go overboard looking in between the lines. It’s this nagging feeling in Jungkook’s brain that he needs to analyze everything from all angles when it concerns you and the people who are fond of you. It’s this irritating quirk of his that he himself hates because he can’t be placated at the thought of something, someone, getting in between the two of you.

Especially if it’s Yoongi, even if he’s already sworn up and down that he’s moved on from you.

Most especially Yoongi, who’s close to his family in more ways than one, now that he’s left for the meantime.

i’ll take care of y/n too dw :)

Jungkook seethes at that, his thumbs already moving on their own accord to type out a reply he barely has the consciousness to discern. He can’t bring himself to read in between the lines now; now, when he’s apart from you and Hwayoung and there’s neither a husband nor father figure at home, and now, when everything dawns on him that everything that’s happening now is real.

go fuck yourself

Everything in and out of Jungkook’s reach is real. The fight you had two days ago was indeed real, and what reminds him of that is your messages that only detail about Hwayoung and nothing else. Yoongi being h*mself which is an annoyance within its own, is real and is proved by the laughing reaction that he only attached to Jungkook’s very genuine, very offensive profanity.

Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to entertain the possibility that Yoongi’s only messing with him as per usual. He doesn’t have the energy to detangle the complicated knots in his mind that all point to him being the reason for his own undoing.

The only energy that your husband has at the moment is to switch apps, regulate his breathing, and head straight to the live footage from the security camera in Hwayoung’s room. Jungkook feels sane again (maybe even the feeling greater than contentment, but not more than happiness) when he sees the two of you pop up on screen, your laughs immediately drowning out the blaring music.

“My pretty girls,” he mumbles under his breath, his thumb twitching to switch between apps again and finally have the courage to actually talk to you about what happened and not just fawn over how Hwayoung’s breezing through her milestones while he’s been gone.

He hasn’t had anything to drink yet, and while he’s relieved at that, there’s a sense of cowardice that creeps up in Jungkook’s throat. He feels pathetic and unsurprisingly, characteristically weak when it comes to you.

Your husband settles for pushing the button that makes the security camera ding, indicating that he’s indeed watching you and Hwayoung, before he screws his eyes shut in fear that you’ll only scowl at him through the screen.

You don’t.

Instead, you only smile lightly. You’re tired and you’re filled with pent-up sentiments because you can’t exactly gossip to Hwayoung how her dad has been frustrating you to no end lately, and yet, you still smile for him because she’s watching.

There’s a knot that forms in his throat when you prop Hwayoung in front of the camera and coo at her to wave because he’s watching. There’s this unmistakeable sting behind Jungkook’s eyes because he’s reminded yet again that everything’s real; that unlike him, you’re not weak.

You’re filled with so much love as evidenced by the way you look at Hwayoung with no fear at all of messing everything up, and it makes Jungkook choke over nothing. You have your fears too, but not one of them comes close to the degree that his doubts are in — perhaps you do have a fear of losing everything just like he does, except the resounding difference is that you’re not a coward like him.

Namjoon’s jostled him atleast three times for the past ten minutes and he’ll succumb to his friend sooner or later, but not now when Jungkook rethinks every word he’s ever said and how he misspoke, not now when he’s made the mistake of even calling Eunsu as his muse when he can’t even grasp the weight of the word when he calls someone else that in front of his wife.

Jungkook’s still a coward, with or without a drink, but he’s in the latter state when he brings out his other phone to finally call you.

He sees you flinch silently through the security camera, gaze averting from a napping Hwayoung on your lap to your phone that’s ringing. You purse your lips in hesitation yet you don’t quiver, accepting his call but not without looking straight at the camera before you do.

You’re neither unattached nor resigned with Jungkook — you’re simply stuck in the middle with him, even if the demarcation about who gets the shorter end of the stick is unclear.

“I didn’t mean anything I said last night,” he admits straightly, sparing no time as his chest tightens.

“You sounded like it,” you frown, absent-mindedly stroking Miso’s fur who just conjured out of nowhere at the exact time your husband called you.

“At the time, yes,” he sighs heavily, the knot in his throat refusing to unravel even if he’s already baring his truth. “But at that time too, I was beyond stupid a-and emotional. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I know me being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse,” Jungkook swallows, his hand cupping the air instead of a shot glass reminding him of his stupidity. “I was out of it. I couldn’t keep everything in check.”

Your voice remains hushed, but you don’t have it in you to discern if it’s only because Hwayoung is sleeping on your lap, or if talking to Jungkook lately robs you of your will to be on the same level as him.

“You could’ve told me as soon as you felt… that way, Jungkook.”

He sucks in a breath, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries not to cry rethinking about your fight. “I did try to, but as soon as you did, you asked me if taking care of Hwayoung felt like a chore to me.”

“Does it?” you ask again, ironically coinciding with Jungkook’s point that it makes him chuckle lightly. You were always so stubborn — almost always similar to his temperament.

“I respect you a lot, Y/N. You put a roof over over our heads, you put food on the table, you have everything figured out.”

“Jungkook,” you mumble, sensing the inevitable conjunction that separates the both of you further.

“But I’m the one who knows what I’m feeling the most, not you,” Jungkook sighs shakily, voice hushed even quieter than the way you look at him silently through the screen.

He can see you, but you can’t see him.

“We’re both parents to Hwayoung at the end of the day but in that— in that same day, you spend more time being the working parent while I’m the stay-at-home parent,” he confides, his tone gentle and slow unlike the way his drunken nature persuaded him otherwise. “Taking care of Young-ie isn’t a chore for me. Yes, it’s repetitive. I-it could be exhausting and draining but that’s what it comes with being a dad. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s with her. I’m bound to feel this way,” he pauses, breath hitching. “I’m not asking you to forgive me right away for all the shit I said. I’ve been unfair springing all of this on you on such short notice.”

You look straight at the camera, bottom lip quivering as you wrap your head around Jungkook’s sober vulnerability.

“I’ve been unfair too,” you mutter, eyes downcast because even if you can’t see Jungkook, there’s a false image of him that floats in your mind, belittling you for not being enough. “I didn’t see it from your point of view.”

There’s only silence between the two of you, the noise of the club being expertly drowned out even through the distortion of the line.

“You can forgive me tomorrow or next week, even— but the sooner the better, of course,” Jungkook chides playfully after a few seconds, smiling to himself when he visibly sees the tension melt away from your shoulders.

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance, baby. Give me a little leeway,” Jungkook pleads, in between light chuckles and strained desperation that an honest, sober husband like him could give to you while you’re long-distance. “Give me a little time to figure out a balance. I-I can’t be the best husband and dad that I want— need to be if I can’t figure myself out.”

“I get it,” you nod, your thumb unconsciously adjusting the wedding on your ring finger that’s become slightly askew. “But you promise me that you’ll come home, Jungkook,”

“I promise.”

“You have to promise me too that there’s no one else.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook tuts warningly, his confused frown at you being genuine in nature as if you could see him in real time trying to digest your paranoia. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Promise me,” you repeat again with a short-lived whine, the stirring of Hwayoung on your lap making his heart soften and your call interrupted.

“I promise.”

Jungkook relaxes into his seat, eyes still fixed on the security app on his phone as he watches you rock his daughter to sleep, pointing to the camera every now and then to tell her that her appa’s watching.

Namjoon and Eunsu come over with drinks, and as much as there’s a momentary wave of relief that washes over Jungkook because he’s seeing familiar people, there’s a dubiously-coated type of tension that replaces the knot on his throat.

“Ah, my pretty producer,” Eunsu hands him his drink, looking past the platinum wedding band that Jungkook hadn’t dared to take off even once the whole trip, along with his phone that displays his family in full brightness. “I believe we haven’t met properly.”

#soooooo.. heh . HOW R WE FEELING!!! :O #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader

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accio-victuuri · 2 months ago

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April 2025 CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚

the start of the month was actually quite eventful, celebrating april fools with the best clowns in chinese domestic entertainment. lol. it started with a double fake rumor which was bits of old rumors pieced together. then as usual for this day, fansite team building happens. meaning, fs for specific celebrities will post about other people. so we supported ones that posted about our boys. a good summary of those are here and there is a good number. whether that’s bjyx or them as individual.

that led to bojunyixiao being on top of the hot search list. this is so fitting for april fools! knowing how much we clown! lol. but seriously, it’s so nice to see how active the fandom still is. the whole fandom has been summoned by the photos shared. there is really nothing new — but we all got excited. that’s how great cpfs are! so sorry ( not really ) to our haters cause we are not going away anytime soon. 💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻

okay, now let’s go to the actual cpns we enjoyed this month! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

• there is a repo from a kid yibo worked with for the bananain shoot. he mentioned that wyb does not smile much, but he does when he looks at his wechat. lol. so we gotta clown all the times you can him smiling down while looking at his phone, probably talking to xz.

• the very lucky ones who already got their WM vinyl noticed how the design is written looks like an 8 and 3. that’s them. Bo and Zhan. 🥹🥹🥹🥹 we know how XZ likes to hide things in plain sight when it comes to his art. so this is a classic example.

• this comparison! they are twins! i wish they could have had this kind of hair at the same time.

• croissant in lacoste ad 🥐🥐🥐

• At the time of writing, GG has not been officially announced to be a part of this rumored drama. @rainbowsky made a really good primer for it over here so you can go ahead and look. but it’s basically screaming the same timeline as yibo’s war of faith. lol. so of course, whoever this character is will be wei ruolai’s husband in the yizhan multiverse! i’m looking forward to it! 🙌🏼

• video “proof” in zhuhai race last year where someone mentions zhan ge + the plot thickens that xz was actually there that time

• this went on HS 4/13 for some reason. there may be some context that i missed lol. but tbh, who cares. they are both successful in their own way in the age they are in. there is no “catching up” to do because they are in different tracks. 💛💛💛

i personally get defensive when it comes to their careers and achievements, i hate tying them up in that aspect. or wanting both to have the same exact things. it does not work that way. i believe in supporting what they do and i accept the fact that sometimes one has more than the other in certain aspects and how that’s okay. i could write up a whole thing on this topic and my thoughts on it but i don’t think the fandom is ready that for that conversation. lol.

• WMWM clothing brand x WM album - another example of the universe conspiring to give them some obscure connection.

• THIS. We are so blessed to have them in Magazine Issues that show their long hair 😍😍😍

how can you not love them both? talented and beautiful creatures!

• WYB’s May Vogue 2025 issue candies

• there is some buzz around xz being spotted passing by Wuhan and him going home immediately. of course we think it’s because Bobo is in Beijing. So he has to be with him 🤡🤡🤡

• our boys greeting sina for their 25th anniversary 🫶🏼

• On 4/20 xz was spotted attending a concert in Beijing with his parents. the “empty” space there is being filled with WYB by us clowns. lol. we don’t have facts but more of wishful thinking since they are both in Beijing. personally, i think people WYB is there because of how happy XZ is. not saying he cannot be happy without WYB, it’s just that there is something more of it’s related to WYB. 🤡🤡🤡

• revisiting an old rumor of them having a skiing show together

• XZ arrives in Shanghai while WYB is there for a race and the next day WYB goes MIA and can only be seen during practice - finally, a timeline of sorts and cpn interpretation of what happened during the weekend✌🏼 on 0428, both Lele and Dabo were seen by chance and people are saying their staff seem to be on holiday. so maybe that’s because the two lovebirds are chillin at home in Beijing. yes please! or maybe they gave their staff some time off after a busy weekend 😋

• WYB is interested in Vinyl record

• WYB saying an expression that is common in Sichuan/Chongqing

see you next month! 🫶🏼💕

<< previous post

#bjyx #yizhan #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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mysticdreamdrafts · 6 months ago

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Chris Redfield | Husband Headcanons

im in love with this man idk so I wanted to yell about him lol

Chris is the type a guy who married you early on, fight me on it. That “I know we’re teens but I love you” sorta thing, ya know? Maybe y’all were high school sweethearts and just the love was real. Maybe ya met in the military and fell for one another. Either way, it worked. Y’all stayed together and it just never died out.

So here’s some (PRE-TRAUMA BECAUSE LORDY) hubby headcanons I think about for Chris Redfield: -Golden Retriever Hubby -Actually really bad about remembering important dates, but will make it up to you no matter what -And like look at that face can you stay mad at him? No- -Because he doesn’t remember dates very well, prepare for random gifts literally all the time -“Happy Monday here’s some flowers because I wanted you to have them” -Breakfast in bed kinda guy -Can actually cook HELLLLLLLA well -Actually shocked you but then you remembered he’s the older brother -Full belly laughs -I’m talkin’ head falls back and eyes squeezed shut sorta laugh -It can make car alarms go off lmfao -Claire isn’t a fan, but you can’t help but join him when he laughs -Protective -Very protective -He is confident you can take care of yourself, but he knows how harsh the world can be -He doesn’t know what he would do if anything were to happen to you -We’ve seen how he cares so much about his friends. His sister. Now imagine you?? Man oh man -It can be a bit insufferable -I imagine it would be the source of some arguments. It feels like he doesn’t trust you all the time, but that isn’t it. -It’s the world he doesn’t trust -He is stubborn too, but he’ll apologize first if he knows he’s in the wrong or being too much -Apology kisses -Apology letters -After an argument, be ready for a bit of silent treatment in the house. He believes time away to think about things before coming back to talk is healthy so that you don’t just both end up getting heated for nothing or say something neither of you mean -But afterward, oooo buddy he’s all about conversation -like it might take a bit to get there because he is HARD HEADED, but after he realizes your points and maybe he’s being a lil ✨extra ✨ he’ll wanna talk about being better -bad at taking photos -like a whole lotta headroom, weird angles, and atrocious mid-blink snapshots -like Chris, pls for the love of god what is wrong with you lol -lets you shave his face, he feels it’s very intimate and he loves to watch your focus face -he’ll wash your hair if you let him -hell, he’ll pamper you always -but there’s something about learning your hair type, finding out what you like, how to oil your hair, take care of you that just means a lot to him

That’s all I have for now but I’ll yell more about him later

If y’all want a NSFW version lemme know and maybe i’lllllllllll idkkkkk heeheeeeeeee~ (imma do it lol)

#chris redfield #reader insert #chris redfield headcanons #resident evil #resident evil imagines #chris x reader #chris redfield x reader

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vampiriito · 4 months ago

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Pillow talk and the fifth amendment (r.c)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It didn't work.

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

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

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

You raised your hands up almost hesitantly, cupping his face and watching him cautiously, "Okay, but.. This has to be a secret.." you muttered, poking the inside of your cheek with tip of your tongue.

He smirked, watching as you hesitated before placing your hands on his face. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, but he kept his outward cool demeanor.

His hands found their way to your waist again, gripping you tightly as he pulled you even closer to him.

"Of course. Secret's safe with me, beautiful." he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. "No one has to know. Just between you and me."

He bent his head forward, brushing his nose softly against yours. His breath was warm against your face, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It'll be our little secret." he murmured, his hands still gripping your waist. "You and me. No one else."

You couldn't believe you were actually gonna do this. Hook with Rafe on the low just to get over JJ. You exhaled shakily, leaning in slightly to brush your lips against his, "I still don't like you, though.." you murmured, no trace of venom whatsoever in your words.

He chuckled softly, the sound a low and rough rumble in his chest. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer still as you moved to brush your lips against his.

"Of course you don't." he murmured in response, his voice thick with sarcasm. "You're just here because you're horny and bored. I get it."

He leaned down, his forehead coming to rest against yours as his fingers traced little circles on the bare skin of your hips.

"I don't like you either." he added, his tone lowering to a deep, gravelly whisper.

"You said I'm your type, earlier.." you teased, licking your lips slightly.

He smirked, his eyes darkening as he watched you lick your lips. He knew what you were doing, and he was enjoying every second of it. His hands slid down from your waist to the back of your thighs, his fingers gripping them tightly.

"You are." he confirmed, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You're exactly my type."

His head dipped down, his lips brushing gently against the side of your neck, leaving a trail of soft and feathery kisses along your skin. His hands were still on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he kept you pressed tightly against him.

"You're smart, strong, and beautiful. And you don't give a damn about me." he murmured against your skin, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

You let out a breathless laugh, tilting your head against the locker, "You need therapy, how is that a turn on?" you asked in mocking amusement.

He chuckled against your skin, his lips trailing down to the crook of your neck. He bit down gently, leaving a slight mark on your flesh before pulling back to look at you. There was a glint in his eyes as he responded.

"Therapy's for pussies." he snorted, his grip on your thighs tightening once more, rings digging into your flesh a little.

"Besides, I like it when you don't like me. It's sexier that way." he teased, his tone low and suggestive.

You raised your hand, burying it in the messy hair at the back of his head, tugging it back a little, "No, I'm serious... You have issues Rafe."

His eyes darkened, his smirk deepening at the feeling of your hand in his hair. He tilted his head backwards as you tugged, a small groan escaping his lips.

"I know." he admitted, his voice rough. "I've got more issues than the New York Times."

He let out a dry, bitter laugh, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips, pulling you even closer so that your bodies were completely pressed against one another.

"But you want me anyway." he murmured, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

You scoffed as mockingly as you could, dipping your head in the crook of his neck, pressing slow open mouthed kisses under his jaw.

He stifled a moan, his grip on your hips tightening as your lips found his neck. His eyes closed involuntarily, his breath hitching as he felt your tongue against his skin.

"You're so rough." he murmured, his head tilting back to give you better access to his neck. "Mmm...You're too good at this." he added, his words a low, needy whine.

You continued your assault on his neck, your hand tightening in his messy hair, fisting it as you mouthed at his neck, "You're crushing me you big baby.." you muttered as he basically melted under your lips, his head resting on your shoulder, hands slipping under your old, marina t-shirt.

He let out another low moan as you fisted your fingers in his hair, his body becoming weak under your touch. He was practically putty in your hands, the usually arrogant and cocky version of him vanishing into thin air. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you even closer to him.

"I can't help it." he muttered, his voice rough and low. "You make me weak in the knees. I'm helpless against you." he added, his head falling back once more, baring his neck to your assault.

You smiled against his skin, feeling the effect you had on him. You knew you were in control here and you relished in it. You nipped at his neck, your teeth grazing against his skin, leaving a trail of light bites and hickeys as you continued your assault.

"You're so pathetic, you know that?" you teased, your lips finding their way to his ear. "You smell good though.."

He let out another low moan, his breath coming out in uneven gasps as your lips found their way to his ear. He was practically trembling under your touch, the sound of your voice and your lips against his skin driving him wild. He couldn't form words, couldn't think straight, couldn't do anything except let you take control.

"Yeah?" he managed to gasp out, his hands gripping your hips once more. "You like the way I smell?" he asked, his voice rough and needy.

Your breathing was matching his, heat blooming through your whole body as you kissed his neck languidly, "Mhm.. your sounds turn me on.. I like when men aren't afraid to be vocal.." you mumbled shakily in in his ear.

He moaned again at your words, his voice becoming low and almost animalistic. He was desperate for your attention, for your touch, for anything you were willing to give him. He had never felt this way before, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Jesus, you're killing me." he growled, his grip on your hips tightening once more. "I'll make any sound you want me to, just keep doing that.."

"You like neck kisses?" you asked condescendingly, grazing your nose under his jaw and pressing light kisses there.

He nodded wordlessly, his body quivering under your touch. He was completely at your mercy, his usually cocky and confident self melting away under your kisses and teasing. He let out another low moan, his eyes closed tightly as you continued your assault on his neck.

"Yes...God, yes." he gasped out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love them, I love your lips on my neck. It feels so good.. don't stop."

"Also you look very good when you workout.." you mumbled against his skin, biting down on the spot where his pulse fluttered under your lips, your teeth sinking in the flesh.

He groaned, his eyes closing tightly as your teeth sank into his flesh. His body jerked involuntarily, his breathing ragged and labored. The combination of your teeth and your words was driving him crazy. He was completely undone, completely at your mercy. He let out another shaky gasp, his hands gripping your hips tighter, as if trying to anchor himself.

"Thank you." he managed to croak out, his voice rough and breathy. "I'll...I'll work out more often if you keep saying things like that."

"Don't get used to nice me.." you chuckled, carding your fingers slowly through his hair, raising your head from his neck to try and lock eyes with him.

He chuckled weakly, his eyes fluttering open slowly to meet yours, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. He was still trying to regain his composure, trying to regain the cocky air that he usually exuded. But he knew that it was pointless, that he was completely in your power at the moment.

"Don't worry, I won't." he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I like you better when you're being a little mean, anyway. It's hot.."

"Do you know what's also very hot? When you're all dirty and sweaty.. from, you know, working out.. And shirtless in grey sweats.." you said a moment later, your words trailing off into a teasing tone, your grip on his hair tightening just a little, pulling his head back so that he was looking at you.

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a moan, his head falling back obediently as you pulled his head up, his eyes locking with yours. His eyes were dark and dilated, his body tensed with desire. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I'll have to remember that." he smirked weakly.

"Were you actually serious about fucking here in the gym locker room?" you whispered.

He chuckled darkly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes flickered around the gym room. It was mostly empty, aside from a few people on treadmills on the other side of the room.

"Oh, I was completely serious." he said, his voice low and husky. "I've been thinking about it since you first walked in here. You have a way of, uh...stirring things up in me, you know."

"When i walked in here and started chewing you out for sleeping with me last night?" you asked amused, raising one brow.

He chuckled softly, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He was still embarrassed about how affected he was from last night, but he knew that he would never admit it. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

"Yeah, well. I'd rather just focus on the, uh...positive things." he teased, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer to him, his grip on you tight. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Like, how amazing you felt last night."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he whispered into your ear, the words sending a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel his body tensing up, and you knew that he was just as affected by this as you were. Despite the circumstances, there was something so hot about being in the empty locker room, the only sound being your heavy breaths.

"I just-" he started, his breath hot against your ear. "I just want to be inside you-"

You exhaled shakily, tilting your head back against the locker behind your, falling silent as he continued to press you against the cold metal with his body. Were you about to let Rafe fuck you in an empty gym locker room? I don't know maybe.. As you said before, you were just a girl and self control ran only so far.

He could feel the tension between you, the way you trembled as he held you against the lockers. He could see the desire in your eyes, the same desire that he knew was mirrored in his own. He pressed even closer, his body flush against yours as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and desperation.

"Please-" he whispered, his hands roaming down your sides, his grip on you tightening. "I need you. Right now."

You clicked your tongue, furrowing your brows as you tried to hold onto your last shred of control, "What if someone comes in?"

He pressed his lips against your jawline, his kisses growing more urgent as he moved down towards your neck. He nipped at your skin, his teeth grazing against your collarbone.

"We'll be quiet." he whispered, his hands roaming down your body, exploring every inch of you. "No one will know. It'll be just you and me."

"Rafe.. Are you actually serious?" you asked, chuckling breathlessly.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. He was barely holding onto control himself, and it showed.

"As serious as i'll ever be." he said, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pressed his body against yours. "Please." he pleaded, his tone growing more desperate. "I need you. Now."

"Okay but if they ban me for public indecency, it's your fault.." you muttered, your hands coming up to cup his face again.

He let out a small laugh, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. He knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you, and it felt good.

"I'll buy you a membership. Don't worry." he said, his hands roaming down to your thighs, lifting you up and pressing you against the lockers.

You shook your head, grimacing in slight amusement at his words, your arms wrapping around his neck for support, "You're so funny.." you mumbled sarcastically.

He smirked, his hands grasping your thighs tighter as he held you against the lockers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. He was enjoying this, enjoying the power he had over you in this moment.

"Is that what you like about me? My sense of humor?" he teased, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"I don't like anything about you.." you teased, a small grin tugging at your lips as he leaned in.

He chuckled weakly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Liar." he mumbled, his lips trailing down your jawline, his hands roaming up your legs.

"Shut up.." you groaned in mock annoyance leaning in and seeking his lips for a kiss.

He let out a soft chuckle, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss. He was trying to be quiet, to hold back the sounds he wanted to make, but it was getting harder and harder as you deepened the kiss, your hands roaming his chest and his back, pulling him closer to you.

You wasted no time returning his kiss, nails digging into his bare shoulders as you kissed him, a new wave of arousal washing over you despite the circumstances you were in. Despite the person holding you against the lockers kissing you with a fervor that left you breathless. You were actually doing this. You were gonna have sex in a gym locker room, with a bunch of spoiled kooks working out outside, actually risking getting thrown out for public indecency if someone decided to come in.

He groaned softly against your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders and your body pressed against his in a way that was making him go crazy with desire. He broke away from the kiss, his eyes dark with arousal as he looked down at you. "You know, for someone who claims to hate me you're sure acting pretty desperate right now."

"I could say the same for you.." you retaliated weakly, furrowing your brows as you locked eyes with him.

He chuckled lightly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pressed you harder against the lockers.

"Desperation isn't a good look on you." he teased, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to your collarbone.

You rolled your eyes in mild annoyance, "Rafe, has anybody told you, you talk too much?" you grumbled, tugging at the hair on the back of his head.

He groaned softly, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he tilted his head back slightly, enjoying the tug of your fingers in his hair.

"Only you," he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "You keep complaining, I think you secretly like it."

He pressed his body against yours, his kisses becoming more urgent as he nipped and sucked at your skin, his hands roaming up and down your body, trying to get as close to you as possible. "You gonna keep bitching, or are you gonna shut your mouth and let me touch you?" he growled softly in your ear.

You scoffed shaking your head, growing more annoyed and aroused as his fingers snaked between the two of you, popping the button of your jean shorts with practiced ease, "You seem awfully good at this.. You fuck a lot of girls in the gym locker room?" you asked lowly, your words meant to touch a nerve despite their shakiness.

He paused, his fingers stopping in their tracks as he looked up at you. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something else.

"No." he said curtly. "Not in the locker room." he added, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you jealous, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"Why would i be jealous over you?" you asked, feeling his arms loosen their hold on your thighs to lower you down a little. You let your shorts fall to the tiled floor, leaving you only in your underwear and t-shirt. Your hands unwrapped from his neck to untie the laces of his grey sweats tugging them down as you smirked up at him.

He watched as you untied the lacing of his sweatpants, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He was a little surprised at your boldness but couldn't complain. He pushed his sweatpants down, kicking them away and letting them pool at his ankles.

"Good question," he replied, his eyes roaming your body hungrily. "You tell me." he said, his hands wandering up your legs once more.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hands grabbed you tightly, picking you up once more and pressing you against the lockers, his body flush against yours.

"I think you're jealous.." he mumbled in between kisses, his lips moving down to your neck.

"And i think you're too self-absorbed.." you mumbled back, kissing him briefly, and cupping his face roughly, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He let out a low moan, his hands grabbing your thighs to hold you in place. You could feel him straining against his boxer briefs, his arousal all too obvious as he leaned his head down, his lips trailing down to your collarbone.

"Mmm maybe.. but you won't be complaining in a minute." he murmured, his teeth nipping at your skin.

He shifted slightly, using one hand to grab your hip, guiding your body against his, and rubbing his bulge against your core. He could feel the heat and moisture through your underwear, and it was driving him crazy. "See? You're already so wet for me." he murmured softly, the sound of his words sending a shiver down his spine. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" His free hand trailed up your thigh to the waistband of your underwear, his thumb brushing against the skin of your hip.

He pushed himself against you more, the feel of your body against him driving him crazy. He could felt himself getting harder, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck, while he fumbled to pull down your underwear, his fingers trailing against your skin.

"I'm gonna make you forget all about him, just wait and see..." he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, he was getting impatient, and you could feel it.

You exhaled a shaky breath, head tilting back against the locker as his fingers brushed against you almost desperately trying to pull down your underwear despite the position "Don't think you can really pull them down from this position," you mumbled.

He lifted his head, a scowl spreading across his lips as he looked down at your underwear, his fingers still trying to pull them down. He groaned in frustration, his hips pushing against your even harder.

"Yeah, you're right."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you could see a glint of challenge in them.

"Then I guess I'll have to rip them off."

He wrapped a hand around the fabric of your underwear, giving it a sharp tug. The sound of the cotton tearing filled your ears, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement course through you. And maybe a bit of disappointment given these were your favorite pair of undies.

He let the ruined underwear fall to the ground and ran a hand against your core, his fingers sliding against your slick slit, gathering your wetness.

Your jaw fell slack as he actually went through with ripping your underwear, "Oh my god!" you whisper shouted at him, "Am i supposed to just walk out of here commando in shorts?" you asked, shuddering slightly as his fingers brushed against your folds.

"Damn, i didn't think about that.." He mumbled, his eyes looking down between you two to the ruined underwear that was on the floor now. He lifted his head up and looked at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"I guess that's a problem for future you" He said, before leaning forward once more to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his fingers continuing to tease between your legs.

You rolled your eyes before kissing him back, a small moan escaping your lips, the sound getting muffled by the rough kiss.

He deepened the kiss, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth hungrily. His fingers rubbed against your clit, pressing against it in little circles as he tried to devour you. He was rough, but there was a certain needy desperation to his touches. You could feel how bad he wanted you. He broke the kiss, and moved to your neck, biting and sucking against the skin. "You're so cute when you're mad.."

You breathing grew more ragged as his fingers continued to circle your clit, the pleasure intense but not quite enough. "You just ruined a perfectly good pair of underwear.." you mumbled between moans.

"I'll buy you a new one" He replied, his breath warm against your skin. His lips trailed down to your shoulders, kissing and biting along the way. "Just.. shut up and enjoy it." he moved your shirt up. "You're talking too much."

"God, you're annoying." you replied, tilting your head to the side to give him more room to kiss and bite at you. "The shirt stays on.." you mumbled, too anxious to be completely naked.

He rolled his eyes but didn't push. His lips trailed back up to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin before he moved to your ear.

"Fine."

His hands moved to your hips, gripping you tightly as he ground against you. A moan escaping his lips as he relished the friction.

He kissed your neck before moving to the other side. His lips and teeth teasing your sensitive skin, his hands roaming your body, mapping every contour. "Can't believe we're doing this in my gym.. in public.." he murmured against your skin, his words sending a shiver through you.

You felt his hand dip between your bodies, his touch heavy and desperate as he tucked himself from his boxers, slipping inside you with ease and without any warning. The motion left you breathless, a slow moan escaping your lips and cutting off any comment you were ready to throw his way.

He groaned against your neck as he started to move, his breathing turning heavy. "You can't be loud.. god can you imagine if someone heard us?"

You were glad you weren't because right now you were a drooling mess after a few thrusts. "I just.. I don't--" you tried, your words getting cut off by his own heavy breaths. You bit your hand, the only thing you could think of to be quiet, but it was getting more and more difficult. You were feeling so much - his weight pressing your back in the locker, his breath on your neck, his body moving against you. It was all too much. "It wasn't my idea.." you mumbled, your words shaky as he pounded inside you.

He groaned, his hips working against your, pushing you hard against the locker. "Fuuuuck.. i knowww.. but, you did follow me here" he grumbled, his lips on the side of your neck. He wasn't wrong, and you were cursing yourself for being so stupid and horny. "We're probably already caught on camera.. so you better try and shut up." He warned, his teeth biting at your earlobe, his breaths becoming ragged.

"I didn't follow you here you dragged-.." you started, cutting off your own sentence with a small moan, as your nails dug into his shoulder, "There's a camera in the locker? Or.. or you mean outside?" you asked breathlessly, your anxiety spiking up along with the arousal.

He chuckled darkly against your ear, his pace picking up, "Outside.. there's like four.." His words were almost mocking.

A shiver ran up your spine as the gravity of the situation started to dawn on you. You couldn't believe what you were letting him do to you. "Four.. and you still decided this was a good idea, dragging me in here.." you mumbled.

He chuckled as he bit your earlobe again. "Of course i did, cause you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. I needed to shut you up.." He replied, the pace getting more eager as he used you against the locker. "And i couldn't let you make those pretty little sounds in public.. and have everyone staring at you..."

All words flew out of your mind like a flock of startled birds when he picked up the pace, your moans mixing with small whimpers, forehead resting on his shoulder, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades, the pleasure mounting.

He groaned as his body tensed up, his movements growing rougher. "Shh.. quiet" He mumbled, his hand covering your mouth, muffling your moans. "You're too damn loud, it's a miracle none of my friends heard you yet.."

Your head spun as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. His hand over your mouth did little to help, the sounds even though they were breathy, they were still audible. In the back of your mind, you wondered if anybody was outside or if anybody could overhear the sounds of your bodies against the locker, and you weren't sure which was worse. It didn't help that he wasn't quiet himself either. You tilted your head against the locker in pleasure, your finger gripping his hair for support.

He pressed closer against you, his hard chest flush to your back. He groaned against your neck as he continued his rough pace "God you're so damn tight, i could just-" He growled

He cut himself and bit the side of your neck, his hand not leaving your mouth. Your skin was becoming marked up all over from him. "There's a damn mirror behind of us, you know that, right?" He asked, his hand moving from your mouth, grabbing your chin and forcing your gaze to look at it, "Look at you" He murmured, his hand moving to your jaw, making you look at yourself, "all marked up, looking so damn wrecked already." He groaned against your ear.

Your half lidded eyes fixed instantly on the mirror over his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans as you watched your own expression with every thrust in the reflective surface. Your face was twisted up in pleasure, your glasses sitting askew on your nose, barely visible by his body shielding you. "That's kinky.." you muttered between moans when he moved his hand away, turning to look at him, words coming out choked and almost inaudible.

He smirked, his eyes roaming over your disheveled frame, "Of course it is." He replied, slowing the pace as he took in the sight in front of him. You were a mess, hair, all messed up, your face red and panting, and your shirt crumpled. "Look at you, all messed up and you haven't even came on my cock.." he mumbled teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you swallowed thickly, his words sending another shiver across your heated skin. "Yet.." you mumbled, your eyes flickering back to the mirror

He grinned, his gaze following yours to the mirror behind him. "Yet," he echoed, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. "Look at yourself in the mirror f‘me." His tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Your gaze returned to the mirror, your eyes locking with your own reflection. You could see the flush on your cheeks and the way your chest was rising and falling heavily. Your glasses were even more askew on your nose, on the verge of falling off. You looked completely disheveled. His thrusts became more demanding, bringing you both almost painfully close, and you watched how your mouth fell open slightly in the mirror, eyes squeezing shut as you clenched and fluttered around him, orgasm approaching too quickly.

He groaned, watching you coming apart, his pace growing relentless, "Look up, at the mirror" He demanded again, but this time he gripped your chin again, forcing you to keep your gaze on the both of you through the mirror. He was still going at a brutal pace that you couldn't even moan properly. Any sound you tried to make from the pleasure, came out in a strangled moan. His eyes were fixed on you, watching how you were barely keeping yourself together. "God you look like such a mess, your eyes are all dark," he murmured against your ear, his hand tracing your neck, "and here.. look at these.." He traced his fingers over the forming hickeys on your neck again, marking you up with them. "all made by me" He whispered.

Your expression was almost pained as your eyes moved from the mirror behind him to his blue eyes, struggling to keep your eyes open "'M close..." you mumbled, words coming out mixed with a whimper.

His hand on your jaw tightened, pulling your gaze up to look at your expressions in the mirror. "Yeah? You look like you are going to pass out" He mumbled, his hand drifting from your jaw to your throat, putting slight pressure on your pulse point, "Your neck is marked up, your eyes are all half lidded, and you look so wrecked" His grip on your jaw was almost bruising as he kept going. "I'm sure everyone outside can hear you" He let go of your neck, moving his hand away and putting it on your waist.

His pace grew even rougher, almost bordering on painful, but the pleasure was too blinding. Your moans were becoming louder, not being able to care about anyone outside of the room, your eyes were getting teary, and you were sure the mirror was fogged up from your heavy breathing. His grip on your waist was getting increasingly painful, you were sure you were going to be bruised up in the morning, but you could care less. "Please Rafe.. i need to come.."

He groaned at how wrecked you were, you were a sight. A beautiful sight. He needed you to be quiet. But before even letting you finish your sentence, he pressed his hand against your mouth once again, covering your mouth so that your moans would be muffled. His hand was large, blocking any escaping sounds from your voice.

Your eyes shot open in surprise when his hand covered your mouth. All that was coming out of it now was muffled noises, some whines and whimpers slipping out, while the more demanding and louder moans were stifled. His fingers were pressed against the corners of your lips, and your glasses were becoming even more askew.

Your sounds were even more filthy like this. It was something about covering your mouth. He couldn't even say it was an intentional move on his part, it practically happened on reflex, like a natural motion, but now that it happened, he knew it was the right one. "God you just need to keep that mouth shut for a second" He whispered in your ear through clenched teeth, watching your eyes closing in pleasure

Your body was shaking from both the pleasure, and the way he was handling you. It was so aggressive and rough, but it couldn't be otherwise. If it was any more gentle, you both would've just given it away. You couldn't even see the mirror anymore, the edges of your vision were fuzzy and all you could focus on was his face in front of you and your expression in the mirror on the wall behind him. You could feel his gaze burning on your half lidded eyes and parted lips, and it was like his hands were everywhere, taking everything from you in that moment. One hand on your mouth, the other holding your body up, chest pressed against yours. You tried to keep your legs wrapped around his waist but you were so very close.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his gaze fixated on your face and the way you couldn't even focus any more. His whole body was pressed against yours; chest to chest, his hand on your mouth, and that look in his eyes made it even more intimate. He could feel it; your legs were barely wrapped around his waist anymore, and if it weren't for his hand on your waist, you would have already slumped to the floor.

Your eyes were barely open, your vision was getting blurry and for a moment, the only thing you could make out was Rafe through your eyelashes. You could hardly breathe. Your body trembled softly, trying to keep yourself balanced, but it was like you were floating in a void. Suddenly, you were snapped out of the haze by the sound of his voice. His hand was still covering your mouth, but it was like his grip loosened for a moment, and words were whispered against your ear.

"Come for me." His command was low and guttural. You could hardly hear it, even if it was right next to your ear, but you could feel it; the way his whole body was pressed against you, leaving no space between, the way his voice sent chills down your spine and the words he said. It was almost like a spell. With the words said out loud, you felt the pressure on your lower abdomen finally break. Which was kind of a record for you, because no guy had made you finish so quickly.

You closed your eyes, feeling the wave of pleasure crash over your body after those words left his mouth. He groaned softly, his breath hot against your ear. He could feel you trembling and fluttering around him, he could practically taste the whimper on your lips that was now only a moan against his hand. "Good girl" he murmured against your ear. His hand on your mouth loosened, letting it fall down to hold your body up, because it was about to collapse.

You fell forward, collapsing against his chest as you tried to regain control of your breathing. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, but were barely holding up. He let go off your mouth, and instead wrapped his hands around your waist, holding you against his chest as he came with a small whine after a few more thrusts.

Your breathing was harsh and your head was pounding violently from the intense orgasm. Your head was resting on his shoulder, not caring about your glasses or anything, finally letting your hands relax and stop digging your nails in his shoulder blades.

His breathing was almost as harsh as yours. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, trying to recover from what just happened. He felt your head resting on his shoulder, the exhaustion and the bliss overwhelming him. He leaned his head against the top of your head, his hand still on your waist, the other one moving upwards to comb through your hair. He was holding you tighter than what necessary, like he was afraid you would disappear any second.

"Did you come inside of me, Rafe?" you asked, your voice hoarse and almost inaudible. You didn't know why you asked because you could definitely feel it dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

Rafe groaned, his grip on your waist tightening. He wasn't expecting that question, not now. His body tensed up a little as your words hit his ears. It was such a blunt question, but then again, you were the type of person to shoot straight between the eyes with their words. He had to take a deep breath before answering, trying to keep his voice steady, but it came out a little shaky.

"Yeah.. I did.."

He buried his face into your hair, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing slightly. But it was also because he was still trying to catch his breathing from what just happened. Even though he knew it wasn't necessary, he still felt the need to hide his face from you, even if you couldn't see him anyways given the position you were in.

"Are you trying to baby trap me? And this is barely the 2nd time we sleep together.." you teased lowly, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck.

He chuckled softly, his grip on your waist loosened a little as he let his head rest against the side of your head. Even though you were joking, he felt a sense of warmth in his chest. The thought of it was oddly comforting, even if it was just a mere joke. He didn't answer your question. Instead, he ran his hand through your hair, letting out a low hum.

You pressed a small kiss on the side of his neck without really realizing that you did so, still clinging to him with your arms and legs wrapped around him loosely.

A soft gasp left his lips as he felt ypur lips brush against his neck, his body freezing for a moment. The act felt so intimate, so natural. His hand in your hair twitched, like he was preventing himself from doing something, but he couldn't quite pin point what it was. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest, and he wasn't sure if it was from the aftermath of what just happened, or the sensation of your body so intertwined with his. He tried to compose himself, but his voice came out a little strained when he spoke.

"Don't.." he breathed out, gripping your waist a little tighter, his voice a little hoarse. "Don't get all soft on me now." He knew it was a lie. He knew that he craved the softness that came with your voice, the affection from your touches. But he tried to resist it, even though he was failing miserably at it right now.

You let out a small breathless chuckle, patting his shoulder, signaling him to put you down. "I could never go soft on you.." you muttered in amusement, trying to ignore the small feeling of guilt tugging at your mind. You had actually slept with Rafe again, in a public place completely sober. If last night was a mistake, today wasn't. And he came inside of you.

He grunted a little as he felt your patting his shoulder, but he couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips at your words. He knew you were trying to hide your own feelings behind it. He slowly lowered you down, your body sliding against his until you stood upright on your feet. He tried not to let his gaze linger on your body, but it was hard not to.

"Yeah.. that's a lie." He muttered, his hands still resting on your waist.

Your footing was a bit wobbly as he set you down, squeezing your thighs together and glancing down at your ruined underwear on the floor. "I can't believe you actually ripped my underwear off.." you muttered as he fixed himself up, adjusting his boxers and sweatpants. "I'm actually about to go commando in shorts?" you asked adjusting your glasses.

Rafe chuckled softly, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you adjust yourself. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, but also a little bit of guilt. Seeing how he had just made you go commando in public gave him a sort of twisted satisfaction. He ran his fingers through his hair, fixing his disheveled appearance quickly before answering you.

"I'll buy you new ones." He said with a smirk.

"You already said that.." you mumbled in mild annoyance, cleaning your self up with a towel he handed you before slipping your shorts back on, shuddering at the feeling of being without underwear, "I hate you, Rafe.." you sneered up at him, grimacing.

Rafe chuckled softly, his smirk growing even wider at your annoyance. He was enjoying this way too much. He watched you clean yourself up with the towel, still feeling a little proud of himself for making you go commando in public. Your words were harsh, but he knew there was no truth to them. He couldn't help teasing you about it.

"Hate me, huh? Is that why you keep coming back for more?" he quipped back with a smirk, folding his arms across his chest.

You picked up your ripped underwear from the floor, holding it up to him with an unimpressed look on your face, "These were my favorites.." you mumbled, frowning at the sight.

He raised his eyebrows, taking the torn underwear from your hand, inspecting it with a sly look in his eyes. He chuckled softly, enjoying the sight of you standing there scolding him.

"Oh, these were your favorites, huh? Well, I guess I have a new favorite now.." he said with a smirk, folding the torn underwear and shoving it into his pocket.

Your face twisted in a horrified expression as he tucked the red lacy, ripped underwear in the pocket of his grey sweats, "Oh my god, don't tell me you're actually keeping those.." you murmured under your breath.

Rafe shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk on his face as he looked at you with those smug, yet charming eyes. He chuckled at your horrified expression, taking enjoyment from teasing you.

"Yeah, I'm keeping them. Why? Afraid I'll sniff them in my spare time?" He teased, a glint in his eyes as he leaned a bit closer, his smirk growing wider as he watched your reaction.

"I'm just gonna pretend that's you getting back at me for cutting your favorite belt.." you scratched the side of your face awkwardly, watching him with a grimace.

Rafe's eyes widened a little, a smirk creeping onto his face. He had almost forgotten about that little incident. He let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you.

"Yeah, I guess that makes us even then. Though I have to say, I definitely got the better end of the deal here.."

He held up the ripped underwear, his eyes glinting with mischief as he gave them a little shake in the air.

"Don't-.." you reached up to swat his hand that was waving your underwear around casually, "-wave them around, jesus..." you scolded quietly.

He laughed softly, pulling his hand away from your swatting range. He was enjoying this way too much, but he couldn't help himself. Especially seeing how flustered you got over him waving your underwear around.

"What's the matter? Don't want me to show them off to all my friends? I could probably start a bidding war for these babies.."

He teased, his smirk widening as he wiggled the torn underwear in the air again.

"You're so gross.." you groaned, still trying to reach the underwear in his hand.

Rafe chuckled softly, easily holding the underwear out of your reach. He was loving how desperate you were getting over getting them back.

"Aw, don't be like that.. I'm just kidding. I'm not gonna show them off to anyone. But I am gonna keep them.

And who knows? Maybe they'll come in handy sometime."

He said with a smirk, shoving the underwear in his pocket again.

You nodded, watching as he stuffed them back in his pocket, pursing your lips and scratching your eyebrow "But they're ruined.. you can't wear them if you want to.." you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. He had to admit, he liked your bratty attitude. He knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, and it was working.

"Oh, you think I'm wearing them? Please, I have my own underwear.. these are strictly for, uh, other uses."

He smirked, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he pulled you by the waist so your bodies pressed together.

You grinned in mock disgust, imagining whatever he was referring to without meaning. The problem with Rafe was that you didn't know if he was joking or actually keeping them for other purposes. Which was both flattering and a bit creepy. "So you're that desperate then?" you asked, cocking one brow up teasingly.

He chuckled, amused by how repulsed you looked. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you about the underwear situation.

"Desperate? Oh, please. You couldn't imagine what I'm desperate for.."

He smirked, leaning in to speak softly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

"But let's just say, I have a few creative ideas for what I could do with those little things."

Your grimace didn't budge as you looked up at him, shaking your head "I wish other people knew how creepy and gross you are.." you muttered.

He chuckled softly, raising his eyebrows in mock offense.

"Aw, you wound me.. here I was, trying to be all charming and seductive and you call me creepy and gross. That hurts, doll."

He teased, leaning down to press a mockingly soft kiss to your neck.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile, muttering a small "whatever" under your breath. You stepped back looking up at him "I hate to cut this short but we need to exit the locker room at some point.." you pointed out. "It smells like man sweat and axe body spray in here.." you squeezed your nose in genuine disgust.

He chuckled softly at your grimace, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah.. you're right, it does kind of smell like ass in here. "

He made a show of sniffing the air, pretending to gag. "God, it's like a chemical weapon in here."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door.

"Come on, let's get outta here before we get a brain aneurysm or something."

A/N: This was kinda small sorry.. the flashbacks are actually so fun to write (maybe because i like rafe..) Also he definitely likes mean women. He's what JJ would call pussy-whipped. Idk, I'm prolly gonna be posting more of these flashbacks because the story line doesn't really stretch out that much. Also i just wanna write more Rafe in general so maybe a stalker! Rafe x reader for the next story? (just because that tag does sm to me)

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen @wh0reforbucknasty @wtfisastiles @annaconscience @pqndxra @carrerascameron @nini2mem @iynsane @gublerstylesobrien1238

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movingmusically · 2 months ago

Note

This is a fantasy i had about austin so i'm slighly embarrassed to share it lol.

I hope you can turn it into a fic.

Austin has to attend another awards event at the chatau marmont. Bored of the same people and conversations he briefly escapes to the moonlit balcony for a breather and runs into another bored guest i.e. reader. It's lust at first sight and they can't keep their hands off each other so they run away from the crowd to a quieter room in the chateau and have hot sex

Author’s Note:

When I saw this request my first thought was: please don’t be embarrassed. I currently have an Austin pegging fic sitting comfortably in my drafts, so trust me, you are so not alone!

This has a spit-sharing moment that was absolutely inspired by Sinners and @psycheetamore comments under those new Caught Stealing photos (if you know, you know). I did tweak the setup slightly so that the reader is Austin's girlfriend, but I hope it still gives you exactly what you wanted.

Word Count: 6.5k

Masterlist

Let Him Follow

Austin adjusted the cuff of his jacket, the fine fabric whispering against his wrist in the low amber light.

The Chateau Marmont thrummed around him, glasses clinking, laughter swirling up into the chandeliers, the same curated chaos he’d been moving through all season.

He smiled when expected, shook the right hands, nodded through conversations he wouldn’t remember by morning.

It wasn’t bad, exactly.

It just wasn’t anything.

The waistcoat pulled snug across his chest when he shifted against the bar, the open line of his bare skin catching cooler air, the thin glint of a chain disappearing and reappearing against his collarbone with each move.

Everything around him felt weightless, untethered.

Until he saw her.

Across the room, framed by the slow turn of glitter and velvet, his girlfriend stood with her weight tilted into one hip, one long leg sliding easily through the high slit of her black silk dress.

She didn’t look at him right away but when she did, it was quick, sharp, and devastatingly private.

Her mouth barely moved around the single word she threw at him across the space between them:

Bored?

Austin’s mouth twitched, the first honest thing he’d felt on his face all night.

He exhaled a soft, almost soundless laugh, shaking his head just enough for her to catch it, tipping the rim of his glass lazily in her direction.

Then she shifted again, the silk at her thigh slipping higher with the motion — no rush, no apology — and the sight of it hit him low and slow.

It wasn’t even the reveal itself.

It was the way she didn’t watch to see if he noticed.

Like she already knew.

Austin dragged his gaze back to the glass in his hand, the smile playing at the corner of his mouth now real, unbothered, warmed through.

For the first time that night, he wasn’t thinking about the next conversation he’d have to escape from.

He was thinking about her.

You caught the lazy tilt of his head, the way he smiled into his drink, and felt something hot and pleased uncurl low in your stomach.

You didn’t wink.

You didn’t gesture for him to come closer.

You just smoothed your fingers lightly along the line of your thigh, dragging the motion out, then turned away. Disappearing into the crowd without a backward glance.

Let him follow if he wanted to.

You moved easily, weaving between conversations without letting yourself linger too long, letting the weight of the room pull you in and around, always just on the edge of sight.

You weren’t trying to escape him.

You were giving him the chance to choose.

You could feel the moment stretch, taut, elastic, as you let him wonder if he’d imagined it, if he’d really seen the glint in your eye, the invitation tucked between your fingers and the slow fall of silk.

When you caught him by the champagne tower, the crowd had shifted just enough that you had to stand close.

His jacket grazed the bare skin of your arm, deliberate now, and you felt the flash of heat it sent racing down your spine.

Austin reached for a glass from the server’s tray and turned it slowly between his fingers once, before offering it out, the stem balanced lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

When you reached to take it, your fingers brushed his — a deliberate move on his part, slow and light, just enough contact to tighten the air between you.

You let your fingertips linger against his for a beat longer than necessary, felt the smooth heat of his skin, the pull of it, before curling your hand properly around the glass.

You lifted your glass in a lazy, silent toast, feeling the corner of your mouth tip into something you couldn’t quite name.

Austin clinked his glass lightly against yours, his eyes never leaving your face, and when he spoke, it was too low for anyone else to catch.

“Behave yourself,” he murmured.

You didn’t answer.

You just smiled sweetly over the rim of your glass and drifted away again, feeling the weight of his gaze trail after you.

The room seemed to get smaller after that.

Every time you shifted, he was there, just folding the space between you tighter.

You caught the brush of his knuckles at your waist when you turned too sharply near the stairs.

The ghost of his breath against your hair when you crossed paths by the gallery doors.

It was nothing.

It was everything.

Each almost touch burned hotter than the last, building into something sharp and relentless under your skin.

When the event photographer caught sight of the two of you together — waving you closer with the easy enthusiasm of someone who recognised a good shot when he saw it — you felt Austin’s hand at your waist before you saw him move.

It was natural.

Expected.

He stepped into your space with the easy confidence of someone who had every right to be there, fitting his hand low at your hip, guiding you into the frame like he did it every day.

You smiled for the camera — real enough to pass — even as his fingers shifted lower.

You felt it in the split second before the flash.

The slow, deliberate slide of his hand, fingers brushing over the curve of your ass, feather-light but undeniable, hidden from everyone’s view but yours.

You didn’t move.

You didn’t let it show on your face.

You just smiled.

Bright. Sharp.

Practiced.

But your whole body tensed, your heartbeat hammering loud and fast against the silk of your dress.

The camera flashed.

Austin squeezed lightly — barely there, just enough to tell you he knew exactly what he’d done — and stepped away as if nothing had happened.

As he moved past you, he looked back once — just long enough for you to catch it.

The smirk.

Small. Private. Unrepentant.

You stood frozen, smiling woodenly through the next round of solo pictures, your blood running molten under your skin, watching the dark line of his shoulders disappear into the crowd like he hadn’t just set you on fire and left you there to burn.

Austin didn’t look back again after the smirk.

He didn’t have to.

He could feel her reaction in the air behind him — that subtle spike of tension, the stiffness in her spine as she held the smile for the camera, the precision with which she didn’t follow him.

He moved slowly through the next few conversations, still playing the part, still sipping from his glass, but it wasn’t the room he was thinking about anymore.

It was her.

The way she’d blinked once when his hand had slipped lower.

The way her lips had parted just slightly before the flash.

The way she’d kept perfectly still — like she knew if she reacted, she’d give the whole game away.

He couldn’t stop picturing it.

And he was still smiling — still charming, still offering compliments and nodding in all the right places — when she appeared at his side again.

No fanfare. No sound.

Just the subtle heat of her presence, the familiar brush of silk against his forearm.

He glanced down.

Her expression was unreadable.

“Hi,” she said lightly, like she hadn’t been pretending to murder him in her head five minutes ago.

Austin tilted his head a little, let his gaze dip. “You’re not mad, are you?” he murmured, voice pitched for her alone.

She blinked once, all innocence, and touched his lapel with the tips of her fingers — smoothing nothing.

“No,” she said softly. “Why would I be?”

Then she stepped in closer — not enough to draw attention, just enough to fill the space between them — and reached past him toward a passing server with a tray of canapés.

He felt the contact before he understood what it was.

Not her hand.

Fabric.

Something light and soft slipping into the outer pocket of his jacket with practiced precision, the brush of her fingers ghosting his hip as she pulled back.

She didn’t look at him.

Didn’t acknowledge what she’d done.

Just picked up a canapé with her other hand and smiled faintly as if nothing had happened at all.

Austin’s heart thudded once, hard.

He reached casually for the edge of his jacket, fingers sliding into the pocket and felt lace.

Thin. Warm from her skin.

He curled his fingers around it and swallowed once, sharply, before letting go and slipping his hand back out.

No expression. No shift.

But his pulse was suddenly, violently awake.

She still hadn’t looked at him. She took a bite and glanced across the room like she was searching for someone else entirely.

He leaned in slightly — only slightly — letting the edge of his voice catch rough against her ear.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said quietly.

That was when she finally met his eyes.

No smile now. No softness.

Just something molten and merciless tucked in the shadows of her gaze.

She tilted her head a little, as if confused by the comment.

Then she stepped in, closing the breath of space between them, her hand sliding slowly over his chest. Her fingers traced lightly across the delicate necklace, drawing his attention to the heat of her touch.

"You look good enough to eat tonight," she murmured.

Her voice was low, perfectly even. The kind of calm that made him more aware of his own breath, the blood moving thick and heavy through his veins.

His hand came up before he could think, catching her wrist just above the bone. Not hard. Just enough to stop her.

The skin under his palm was warm. Her pulse beat steady against his fingers. But he could feel the charge in it — the tension barely held in check.

"Baby," he said, his voice rougher than he intended, thick with the effort of keeping it steady. "Keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna take you right here."

She tilted her chin up, eyes locked on his, mouth hovering just shy of his — a breath away from ruining both of them.

"Promises, promises," she whispered.

You didn’t wait for him to speak again.

You turned and slipped away before he could see how close your hands were to trembling.

Not far — just enough to put distance between the heat of him and the ache blooming low in your belly.

The cool night air hit you like a reprieve as you stepped through the open doors and onto the balcony.

Los Angeles glittered below, careless and sprawling, the kind of view that normally made you feel calm. Untouchable.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you couldn’t breathe around it.

Your hands found the cold stone railing, fingers curling lightly over the edge, your body tilted forward just enough to drink in the night air.

You didn’t hear him follow.

You felt him.

The shift in the air behind you.

The way your spine straightened without meaning to.

You didn’t turn.

Not at first.

He stopped just behind you, close enough that the heat of him slid down your back, but not touching. Not yet.

“You gonna keep teasing me,” he asked, voice low and taut, “or you gonna let me have what’s mine?”

You smiled out at the city, your chest rising just a little faster than before.

“You looked busy in there,” you said lightly. “Didn’t want to interrupt your fun.”

He didn’t answer.

Not in words.

His hand came to rest lightly at your hip — nothing possessive, just warm, grounding. His breath touched the back of your neck before he spoke again.

“Say the word,” he murmured, “and I’ll stop.”

You turned slowly, letting your shoulder brush his chest as you shifted to face him, the silk of your dress whispering against your skin.

You could feel him — the heat of him, the weight of his stare — and when you looked up, he was already watching you like he wanted to memorise every inch of your face.

He stepped in closer. Hands braced against the rail behind you.

Caging you, not touching.

You held your ground.

Head tilted.

Eyes steady.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

Yours to his.

Every breath pulled tighter.

He leaned in, slow and unhurried, until his lips brushed the edge of yours — not quite a kiss, just the ghost of one.

It stole your breath anyway.

“You thought slipping me your panties meant you’d get what you wanted?”

His voice was quiet. Dangerous. Too calm.

He smiled — slow and cruel, the kind of smile that made your stomach flip and your fists curl at the same time.

“That’s cute.”

And then he pulled back.

Not far — just enough to make you feel the distance.

You stared at him, your pulse beating hard enough to echo in your throat.

“Asshole,” you said under your breath.

He raised a brow, clearly unrepentant.

And that was it.

You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and tugged him away from the railing — away from the night, away from the view, away from the last shred of restraint you had left.

You turned toward the far end of the balcony, where ivy curled over the stone and shadows softened the corners. Half-obscured behind a tall potted citrus tree was a narrow door — old wood, tarnished brass handle, just out of sight from the main room. A door most people wouldn’t even notice unless they knew to look.

You turned the handle without pause, pulled it open, and led him through.

The hallway was narrow, dimly lit, silent. Just a few steps down and you found the room — one of the private lounges tucked between the suites. Quiet. Empty.

You shut the door behind you. Turned the lock.

Inside, the lighting was low, lamps casting warm shadows across worn velvet chairs and polished parquet floors. Quiet. Private. Made for slipping away unnoticed.

Austin stood there, watching you.

His chest rose and fell a little faster now, though everything else about him stayed unnervingly still — jacket sharp, waistcoat fitted close against bare skin, gold chain catching the honeyed lamplight.

But his eyes—

His eyes were wide and dark, fixed on you like nothing else existed. Like the room had disappeared and you were the only thing left worth breathing for.

Then his hand slid into his pocket.

He drew out your panties slowly, like he’d forgotten they were there until the lace brushed his fingers and pulled him back under.

He looked down at them. Turned them over once.

And then lifted them to his face.

He inhaled.

Deep. Intentional.

His eyes fluttered shut for half a second — just long enough to feel it — then opened again as he let the breath go.

Rough. Quiet. Like it hurt.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t have to.

Everything he wanted was written across his face.

Your heels clicked softly against the floor as you crossed the space between you.

You kissed him hard — tongue first, lips parted, dragging a filthy sound from his throat as your mouth opened over his like you were starving for it.

He caught your waist, stumbled a half step, then pressed you back with a groan, hips flush, mouth rough, all control stripped out of it.

You were already tugging his jacket off — rough, no ceremony — fingers sliding under the collar, pushing it down his arms and letting it drop behind him without a second glance.

Then the waistcoat — tighter, closer — buttons giving under your hands as you stripped him down to bare skin and warm chain and the kind of tension that begged to be broken open.

He dropped to his knees like it wasn’t even a choice — like worshipping you was the most natural thing in the world.

You didn’t move. You just looked down at him, heart pounding against your ribs, breath shallow as you watched the man who’d been smirking at you all night settle onto the floor in front of you like he belonged there.

Austin’s hands slid up the backs of your thighs, fingertips catching at the hem of your dress. He pushed it higher, slow and careful, until the silk bunched around your hips and the air kissed the heat between your legs.

And then he paused.

Still kneeling. Still staring up at you like you were something holy.

His breath hitched.

You knew what he saw.

You could feel what he saw.

The ache between your legs, the slick heat of it — unhidden, unashamed. The way your thighs tensed and your breath caught. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to.

He leaned in.

His nose pressed into the soft skin just above your clit, the ridge of it nudging higher as he inhaled deeply — like he needed the scent of you in his lungs before anything else.

Then came his mouth.

A slow, deliberate exhale against you — warm and unbearable — and then one long lick, steady and sure, dragging through the centre of you with the kind of confidence that only came from knowing exactly what made you fall apart.

Your hand flew to his hair.

He groaned low, the sound rolling up through your fingertips, and began to rise, reaching for the hem of your dress like he was ready to tear it off just to see the rest of you.

You stopped him — one hand firm on his shoulder.

He stilled instantly.

You stepped back just enough to let him watch.

Then you pulled the dress off yourself — slow, deliberate — letting the straps slip down your arms and the fabric fall in one silken sweep.

Austin adjusted slightly, sitting taller on his knees until his chest aligned with your hips, his face tilted up toward yours, mouth parted. You felt the warm drag of his breath across your breasts — and something deep inside you clenched hard.

Austin stayed still — barely breathing — as her hand slid down over her stomach.

His eyes followed every movement.

She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t glance away. She touched herself like she needed it — two fingers parting her pussy, slow and precise, circling her clit with the kind of pressure that made her thighs shift and her breath catch.

His gaze dragged up to her face and she was looking right at him.

Eyes locked.

No shame.

She moaned, low and breathy, fingers slipping lower to gather slick, then back up — rubbing tighter now, more focused.

Then she pressed lower again.

His whole body tensed. His hands stayed at his sides. He could feel the ache behind his zipper, the pulse of it, but he didn’t move.

Her other hand braced lightly against his shoulder for balance as she brought her fingers to her entrance and pushed in — slow, steady, her breath catching as she filled herself.

Austin’s hands twitched at his sides.

He watched her fuck herself — slow and deliberate — and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Her thighs parted wider, her eyes fluttered half-shut and she moaned again, softer this time — that was his invitation.

He slid his hand up the inside of her leg until the backs of his fingers grazed her own.

She didn’t stop.

She didn’t flinch.

She spread her legs further.

And he slid his fingers in with hers.

Together.

She was soaked. Hot. Tight around them both.

They moved in sync, the slick sound of it rising between them, the wet clench of her body pulling a low groan from his chest.

Her forehead tipped forward, her breath catching.

She clenched around them — the rhythm breaking, her fingers shaking against his — and for the first time, she stopped looking at him.

Her mouth fell open.

Not dramatically. Not with intent. Just slack.

Like she’d forgotten how to hold herself up.

And then he saw it.

A thin line of spit catching at the curve of her chin, just beneath her lip. It glinted in the low light, soft and delicate.

“Baby,” he murmured, rough and reverent, “you’re drooling.”

Her gaze flicked down to his, dazed but sharp.

She lifted one hand, swiped her fingers across her chin, looked at the wetness—

Then smiled.

Slow. Wicked.

“Want some?”

His eyes flared. Just slightly.

And then he nodded.

Slow. Controlled. Like he’d give you anything — but only if you made him earn it.

You both moved at once, wordless.

Your fingers slipped out of yourself, breath hitching as you pulled away from the slick, sensitive throb of it. Austin’s followed a moment later, still glistening, steady even as he pulled away.

Then he pulled you in close, until his chest was tight to your hips, like he was aligning his heart with your core.

His hands rested at your thighs now, wide and warm, bracing as he tilted his face up to yours.

You sank one hand into the front of his hair, fingers threading just above his forehead. The other came to his jaw, fingertips skimming behind his ear — steadying him.

He let you guide him.

You tilted his head back gently.

You opened your mouth — just slightly at first — and let it build.

Saliva gathered slowly on your tongue, cool and velvety. You kept your jaw slack, lips barely parted, feeling the pool rise until it swelled against your teeth. The urge to swallow burned in your throat, but you held it — savouring the pressure, the ache, the way he watched you like he already knew what was coming.

You leaned in.

Closer.

His mouth opened.

And you parted yours wider — tongue tilting forward, pressure shifting — until the drool spilled over.

A slow, liquid fall.

Straight from your mouth into his.

He swallowed it without hesitation.

Didn’t blink.

The taste of her — salt and heat and something he didn’t even know how to name — still clung to his tongue like it was part of him now.

And she was still watching him.

Like he was hers to ruin.

Like she hadn’t even started.

He almost begged her to ride his face right there — to drop down onto his mouth and fuck herself on his tongue until she broke apart and soaked him in it.

But his body had other plans.

His cock throbbed painfully against the inside of his pants — hard enough it hurt, the fabric doing nothing to ease the pressure.

He didn’t care.

He’d have let it split the seams if it meant getting closer.

His mouth was still open when he rose — her spit cooling on his lips — and he didn’t pause, didn’t think. He kissed her like a man starved. Tongue, teeth, desperate gasps. The kind of kiss that didn’t care about form or grace — just survival.

“Let me,” he rasped into her mouth. “Please, baby — I need to fuck you. Let me.”

It wasn’t smooth.

It wasn’t slick.

It was ragged and hungry and full of need.

He would’ve gone to his knees again.

He would’ve begged her until the room collapsed around them.

All that mattered now was getting inside her.

She wiped her spit from his mouth with her thumb.

Slow. Intentional. Possessive.

Austin couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t do anything but stand there and take it.

Then her eyes lifted, her voice came low, like silk dragged over a blade.

“You want to fuck me?”

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Then—

“God, yes.”

A rasp, barely shaped into a word.

“Please.”

It slipped out again, low and cracked.

“Please, baby. I need you.”

His cock ached. His whole body ached.

He didn’t care how he sounded. Didn’t care how it looked.

She moved — one hand sliding down to his waist, then lower — slow enough to make his vision blur.

And when she touched him — when she palmed his cock through the fabric like she’d been thinking about this moment all night — he made a sound he didn’t recognise.

Low. Raw.

She found his belt and undid it slowly, watching his face the entire time.

Then she moved to his pants, unfastened the button. Lowered the zip.

Her hand dipped beneath the waistband, fingers curling around his cock with practiced ease.

Austin choked on his breath.

The contact was too much and not enough — warm, confident, like she already knew exactly what he needed and wasn’t sure if he deserved it yet.

She stroked once.

Then let go.

Took a half-step back.

That look she gave him — calm, steady, with the faintest lift of her chin — knocked the air clean out of his chest.

He got the message.

Shoes first. Then pants and boxers. He shoved them down, kicked them aside, and stood there fully exposed, cock flushed and aching, chest rising just a little too fast.

When he looked back up, she was staring.

Not blinking.

Not speaking.

Just drinking him in like she wanted to eat him alive.

And when her gaze met his again, he felt the heat of it all the way through him — like she could see every thought in his head, every pulse of blood, every ounce of restraint barely holding him together.

Then she stepped back in.

Wrapped her hand around his cock like it belonged there. His knees nearly buckled.

She didn’t say a word.

Just turned, still holding him, and led him across the room — slow, confident steps, the pressure of her grip enough to steer him exactly where she wanted.

When they reached the chair, she turned him again. Steady. Sure.

She shifted her grip. Looked at him once.

Then pushed him down.

Hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.

Gentle enough to make him thank her for it.

He hit the chair hard — not from force, but because he let it happen. Let you push him down like it was the only thing he’d been waiting for all night.

You stepped between his knees. His thighs were wide, chest rising fast, cock flushed and heavy where it rested against his stomach. You reached for him again, fingers curling around the base, stroking once — slow, possessive — watching his mouth fall open, watching his eyes glaze like he was trying not to lose it already.

And maybe that’s what cracked you open the most —

Not the need.

Not the heat.

But the way he gave it to you.

Fully. Willingly.

His chest was flushed. His jaw was slack. His hands rested on the arms of the chair like he didn’t trust himself to touch you without breaking something.

You climbed into his lap one knee at a time, bare skin catching the cool air as you straddled him — thighs locking around his, your weight settling in with purpose.

He groaned when you pressed down, not yet in, just there — the warm wet slide of your pussy gliding along the length of him, teasing the head as you rocked once, slow and shallow.

His hands twitched. His eyes rolled. His hips jerked once, helpless.

You caught his jaw in one hand, made him look at you.

“Breathe,” you said softly, not unkind. “You’re doing so good for me.”

His breath hitched.

He looked at you like you were already the best thing that had ever happened to him.

You rose slightly, guiding him to your entrance. Paused there. Let him feel it.

The heat. The tease.

The promise.

Then you sank down — slow and steady, stretching around him, inch by inch until he filled you completely, until you were flush together and your thighs were shaking from the effort of holding still.

Austin made a sound like prayer. Or surrender. Or both.

You were so full, the pressure a delicious ache, and for a moment — just a moment — you stayed there. Letting him feel it. Letting yourself feel it.

How badly he needed this.

How much you did too.

You started to move — a slow grind at first, hips rolling just enough to make you both feel it. The stretch of him, thick and hot inside you, made your breath catch. Made your thighs tense. Every shift of your body drew a fresh ache, deep and delicious, and you savoured it.

Austin’s hands clenched tight around the arms of the chair. His head tipped back, throat exposed, chest heaving with the effort it took not to move. Not to thrust up into you and ruin it.

You rocked again, a little deeper this time, the wet sound of it soft and sinful in the quiet. You clenched around him and felt the ripple of it through his body — his moan spilling low and helpless from somewhere deep in his chest.

It did something to you. Twisted something dark and hot in your belly.

Because this wasn’t just sex.

It was surrender.

His — and yours.

He’d begged for this, and now he was giving it up completely — every gasp, every twitch, every ounce of control — and letting you take what you wanted.

You leaned forward, bracing one hand against his chest, felt the thud of his heart under your palm as you started to ride him harder — still in control, but shameless now, purposeful. Every movement intentional. Every grind a demand.

His cock throbbed inside you and you felt it — felt everything — from the pulsing ache between your legs to the tension coiling through his thighs. He was holding back. For you.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You feel—baby, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

His hands moved — one sliding up to your waist, the other curling under your thigh and grabbing your ass, firm and rough with want.

Then his mouth found your breast.

You gasped — spine arching — as his tongue circled your nipple, eager and unrelenting, before he sucked it into his mouth with a groan.

Your rhythm faltered for half a second, then you ground down harder, hips snapping sharper. His cock hit just right and your breath hitched — a rush of pressure, almost too much.

The pleasure built low and fierce, each roll of your hips stoking the fire. His eyes were blown wide now, fingers digging into your skin like it was the only thing keeping him here.

He whimpered.

You felt it then — the twitch, the swell, the shudder that meant he was close.

“Fuck—baby—I’m—” he breathed, voice breaking apart. “I’m not gonna last.”

You smiled. Tight. Merciless.

“Then don’t.”

You dropped down hard, grinding against the base of him, wringing everything out of him. He came with a broken moan, hips jerking up into you, face buried in your chest, arms locked tight around your waist like he couldn’t bear the intensity of it.

You kept moving through it — slower now, coaxing every last spasm from him — until he slumped back, head tilted, mouth parted, completely undone.

You leaned in and kissed him — soft, deep, messy — and felt him moan into it like he didn’t know where he ended and you began.

He held her in the aftermath, still inside, not ready to give her up to gravity, to distance, to anything outside this room.

His lips ghosted across her cheekbone, her jaw, the soft point of her throat — and then paused.

He looked at her. Really looked.

Flushed skin. Blown pupils. The faintest tremble in her thighs where they bracketed his.

And she hadn’t come.

She was still on the edge. Still wound tight, waiting.

Something sharp and primal lit behind his ribs.

He slid his hands down her sides, slow but certain, smoothing over the curve of her hips, the tops of her thighs. His mouth found hers again — not hungry this time, but reverent — and then lower, along her collarbone, the swell of her breast.

She shivered when he sucked gently at the spot beneath her jaw. Her breath caught when he whispered, “Let me take care of you.”

He slipped his hands lower.

Under her thighs. Beneath her ass.

And he lifted.

Not far — just enough to shift her, to pull out with care — his cock slick and still aching, but that wasn’t what mattered now.

He set her gently on her feet.

Kissed her once, slow, like a promise.

Then he sank to his knees again.

One hand traced the back of her calf, slow up the inside of her leg. The other braced gently at her waist, guiding her foot up — up onto the seat of the chair he’d just been ruined in — spreading her open above him.

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t have to.

Her eyes burned into his. Her chest rose fast and shallow. And when he looked up at her — thighs parted, pussy flushed and gleaming, breath trembling in anticipation — he thought he might die from how much he loved her.

He leaned in. His nose brushed up the soft, swollen swell above her clit. He inhaled, letting the scent of her flood his chest like breath after surfacing.

And when he finally tasted her properly — not teasing, not coaxing, but taking — he felt her whole body jolt like a live wire.

She was warm and flushed, still slick from before, the texture of her wet and velvet-soft under his tongue.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, light at first, as if testing the weight of what he was giving her.

He didn’t just lick.

He mouthed her — open, plush, deliberate — tongue sliding thick and slow from her entrance upward, parting her with the full weight of his focus until he reached the top and latched onto her clit with a low, reverent hum.

She gasped above him, hips twitching, and he felt her thighs start to close in — not to stop him, but to hold him there.

Good.

Let her.

His hands tightened at her hips, thumbs sweeping in small, grounding circles as he sucked once — harder now, just enough to feel her shiver — before easing off and flattening his tongue against her again.

She was making sounds now.

The kind she couldn’t fake. Small, breathy, half-broken.

Austin adjusted his grip, one arm anchoring across the back of her thigh, the other sliding down to cup beneath her knee, holding her steady as he pressed in tighter — dragging the edge of his teeth, gently, along her inner thigh just to feel her jolt.

Then he went back to her clit — slow at first, then faster, flicking just right, and he felt it: the shift, the unravel, the desperate little rock of her hips chasing his mouth.

She was close.

And he wanted it.

Not for the ego.

Not for the win.

But because this — her, open and shaking and pouring herself into his mouth — was what he’d been starving for all night.

He adjusted the pressure one last time, just enough to tip her over — and the sound she made nearly ruined him.

A raw, gasping moan.

High and helpless.

Her leg braced hard against the floor, the other tightening against his shoulder as she came for him, body jerking once, then again, grinding into his face as he worked her through it.

He kept going. Kept eating.

Even as her legs trembled.

Even as her cries melted into breathless curses.

Even as his own cock throbbed uselessly in the air between them.

He didn’t stop until she slumped forward, her hand slipping from his hair, her chest rising hard with every breath.

Only then did he pull back — mouth slick, chin wet, heart hammering.

He looked up at her like he’d just survived something holy.

And maybe he had.

Her body trembled above him, breath faltering like it couldn’t believe what they’d just done.

Austin kept his hands on her thighs, just steady, open, ready in case her legs gave out.

She was still half-curled, one hand braced on the back of the chair, the other drifting loose at her side. Her chest lifted in short, unsteady pulls.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Just let her feel it.

Let her own the quiet.

After a long moment, her head tipped down, hair falling loose around her face, and she looked at him — eyes heavy-lidded and bright, lips parted like she hadn’t quite found her voice yet.

Austin swallowed.

He brushed his hand slowly up the outside of her thigh, fingertips light as air.

“Hi,” he said softly.

A beat.

Then her mouth tugged into a smile — the kind that felt like a thank you.

“Hi.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, head dropping for a second, his forehead pressing gently to the inside of her knee.

“I think I just saw God.”

She snorted — breathless, warm — and her fingers curled into his hair again, just needing to feel him.

“Yeah?” she murmured.

He looked back up at her.

“Yeah.”

She slid her hand from his hair to his jaw, thumb brushing lightly across his cheekbone — slow, lazy affection in the aftermath of everything they’d just done.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low, still a little hoarse from all the sounds he’d pulled out of her.

Austin nodded once, then turned his head just enough to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “More than.”

She held his gaze for a second longer. Then—

“Alright.” She exhaled, long and shaky, and let her leg down from the chair, still a little wobbly.

He stood with her, hands gentle at her waist, just in case.

They didn’t rush. There was no need. The world outside the room could wait.

He brushed her hair back behind her ear, gave her one last kiss — soft, close — and murmured, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

They moved together in that quiet, unhurried way that comes after the storm. She reached for her dress while he retrieved his pants, jacket and waistcoat from the floor.

He stepped into his pants first, then pulled the waistcoat back on — not bothering with every button. As he reached for the jacket, she stepped in behind him, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, fingertips tracing the crease of the fabric as she helped settle it into place.

Their hands brushed. He looked back.

She was smiling now — soft, content — and it hit him in the ribs, how much he loved her like this. Steady. Whole. His.

He leaned in and kissed her temple.

When they were fully dressed again — her lipstick retouched, his hair roughly smoothed back into place — she met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror above the sideboard.

“You good?” she asked again, just for balance.

Austin stepped up behind her, let his hands rest lightly on her hips.

“I’m better than good,” he murmured. Then grinned. “And if anyone asks why I look like I’ve just been struck by lightning—”

She turned, kissed him once more, this time light and final, like punctuation.

“They’ll know,” she said simply, already reaching for the door.

The corridor was still empty when they stepped out. Still quiet. But the thrum of the party waited like static beyond the turn in the hall.

She reached for his hand.

Austin took it, lacing his fingers through hers as they walked back the way they’d come — past the potted tree, through the narrow door, slipping onto the edge of the balcony like nothing had happened at all.

Inside, the lights glittered. The room hadn’t changed.

But when she looked up at him — her hand still in his, her mouth soft from too many kisses — he knew everything else had.

He smiled, low and private, as they stepped back into the noise.

And the party, none the wiser, swallowed them whole.

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