#and trying to hurry things along

[zot3-flopped]

Have any insiders talked about what the guys were like in meetings? I know Larries say Louis led the meetings but I doubt that.

Louis doesn't have the attention span or intelligence to lead meetings. He couldn't even concentrate in class, which is why he failed all his exams.

[doqqy]

getting evicted from our current home in like a week ouch

[keeps-ache]

game wants my email to play, i give it my email. i don't play game, because it was kind of eh anyway. they send me emails, because i gave them my email. i ignore them. they send me more emails. i ignore them. they send me email with a subject title that is essentially 'hey free stuff !!!!'. i boot up game. game wants to update. i know this takes forever so i do other stuff in the meantime. it doesn't finish updating for 3 hours. my computer is lagging. my music is bugging. my stylus is trying to fake another death. it's finally done updating !! i hit 'play'. loading screen for 30+ minutes and i can't listen to my music now because i don't have the option to turn off game's music on the loading screen. my everything is so slow. so so slow. but also.. despite all this................. free stuff.........

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[acourtofquestions]

No. No, it couldn't have been a dream The escape, Rowan, the ship to Terrasen—

A dream. An illusion. Her escape from him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.

Had she said it? Had she said where the Keys were hidden?

Then a cool, cultured voice purred, "All that training, and this is what becomes of you?" Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other side of the altar, was not real.

"Even Sam held out better than this."

Fenrys snarled.

You could get out of these chains, if you really wanted," Arobynn said, frowning with distaste. "If you really tried."

No, she couldn't, and everything had been a dream, a lie.

"You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free..." Arobynn chuckled. "Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter."

Only hearing the King of the Assassins, unseen and unnoted beside her.

"Deep down, you're hoping you'll be here long enough that the young King of Adarlan will pay the price. Deep down, you know you're hiding here, waiting for him to clear the path." Arobynn leaned against the side of the altar, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Deep down, you know it's not really fair, that those gods picked you. That Elena picked you instead of him. She bought you time to live, yes, but you were still chosen to pay the price. Her price And the gods'?"

Arobynn ran a long-fingered hand down the side of her face. "Do you see what I tried to spare you from all these years? What you might have avoided had you remained Celaena, remained with me?" He smiled. "Do you see, Aelin?"

She could not answer. Had no voice. Cairn hit bone, and—

Aelin lunged upward, hands grasping for her thigh. No chains weighed her. No mask smothered her. No dagger had been twisted into her body. Breathing hard, the scent of musty sheets clinging to her nose, the sounds of her screaming replaced by the drowsy chirping of birds, Aelin scrubbed at her face.

The prince who'd fallen asleep beside her was already running a hand down her back in silent, soothing strokes.

A dream. Just a dream.

She twisted, setting her feet to the threadbare carpet on the uneven wood floor.

"Dawn isn't for another hour," Rowan said.

Yet Aelin reached for her shirt. "I'll get warmed up, then." Maybe run, as she had not been able to do in weeks and weeks.

Rowan sat up, missing nothing. "Training can wait, Aelin." They'd been doing it for weeks now, as thorough and grueling as it had been at Mistward.

She shoved her legs into her pants, then buckled on her sword belt.

"No, it can't."

A gathering storm to the north had forced their ship to find harbor last night—and after weeks at sea, none of them had hesitated to spend a few hours on land. To learn what in hell had happened while they'd been gone.

The answer: war.

Everywhere, war raged. But where the fighting occurred, the aging innkeeper didn't know. Boats didn't stop at the port anymore— and the great warships just sailed past. Whether they were enemy or friendly, he also didn't know.

Aelin scowled. "What." It wasn't so much of a question as demand.

His gaze was unfaltering. As it had been when she'd returned from her run through the misty fields beyond the inn and found him leaning against the apple tree. "That's enough for today."

"We've hardly started." She lifted her blade.

Rowan kept his own lowered. "You barely slept last night."

Aelin tensed. "Bad dreams." An understatement. She lifted her chin and threw him a grin. "Perhaps I'm starting to wear you down a bit."

His canines gleamed. "You need to eat."

"I need to train."

She couldn't stop it-that need to do something. To be in motion.

No matter how many times she swung her blade, she could feel them. The shackles. And whenever she paused to rest, she could feel it, too—her magic. Waiting.

Indeed, it seemed to open an eye and yawn.

She clenched her jaw, and attacked again Rowan met each blow, and she knew her maneuvers were descending into sloppiness.

Knew he let her continue rather than seizing the many openings to end it.

She couldn't stop. War raged around them People were dying. And she had been locked in that damned box, had been taken apart again and again, unable to do anything.

Rowan struck, so fast she couldn't track it. But it was the foot he slid before her own that doomed her, sending her careening into the dirt.

"I win," he panted. "Let's eat."

Aelin glared up at him. "Another round."

Rowan just sheathed his sword. "After breakfast."

She growled. He growled right back.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll lose all that muscle if you don't feed your body. So eat. And if you still want to train afterward, I'll train with you." He offered her a tattooed hand.

But Aelin said, "People are dying. In Terrasen. In-everywhere. People are dying, Rowan."

"Your eating breakfast isn't going to change that." Her lips curled in a snarl, but he cut her off. "I know people are dying. We are going to help them. But you need to have some strength left, or you won't be able to."

Truth. Her mate spoke truth. And yet she could see them, hear them. Those dying, frightened people. Whose screams so often sounded like her own.

Rowan wriggled his fingers in silent reminder. Shall we?

Aelin scowled and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. So pushy.

Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me.

Elide's eyes widened. Widened further as he opened his mouth, and took a bite. His swallow was audible. His cringe barely contained. Elide reined in her smile at the pure misery that entered the Lion's tawny stare. Aelin and Rowan had been finishing up a similar battle when she'd entered the taproom minutes ago, the queen wishing her luck before striding back into the courtyard.

Elide hadn't seen her sit still for longer than it took to eat a meal. Or during the hours when she'd instructed them in Wyrdmarks, after Rowan had requested she teach them.

It had gotten her out of the chains, the prince had explained. And if the ilken were resistant to their magic, then learning the ancient marks would come in handy with all they faced ahead. The battles both physical and magic.

Gavriel met her stare, and Elide again restrained her laugh.

She felt, rather than saw, Lorcan enter. The innkeeper instantly found somewhere else to be. The man hadn't been surprised to see five Fae enter his inn last night, so his vanishing whenever Lorcan appeared was certainly due to the glower the male had perfected.

Indeed, Lorcan took one look at Elide and Gavriel and left the dining room.

They'd barely spoken these weeks. Elide hadn't known what to even say. A member of this court. Her court. Forever.

He and Aelin certainly hadn't warmed toward each other. No, only Rowan and Gavriel really spoke to him. Fenrys, despite his promise to Aelin not to fight with Lorcan, ignored him most of the time. And Elide ... She'd made herself scarce often enough that Lorcan hadn't bothered to approach her.

Good. It was good. Even if she sometimes found herself opening her mouth to speak to him. Watching him as he listened to Aelin's lessons on the Wyrdmarks. Or while he trained with the queen, the rare moments when the two of them weren't at each other's throats.

Aelin had been returned to them. Was recovering as best she could.

Elide didn't taste her next bite of porridge. Gavriel, thankfully, said nothing. And Anneith didn't speak, either. Not a whisper of guidance. It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

Whether the others knew what propelled her, they hadn't said a word. Aelin sheathed Goldryn and loosed a long breath. Deep down, her power grumbled. She flexed her fingers. Maeve's cold, pale face flashed before her eyes. Her magic went silent.

Fenrys sat in wolf form at the edge of the nearest field, staring out across the expanse.

Precisely where he'd been before dawn.

She let him hear her steps, his ears twitching. He shifted as she approached, and leaned against the half-rotted fence surrounding the field.

"Who'd you piss off to get the graveyard shift?" Aelin asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Fenrys snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Would you believe I volunteered for it?" She arched a brow. He shrugged, watching the field again, the mists still clinging to its farthest reaches. "I don't sleep well these days." He cut her a sidelong glance. "I don't suppose I'm the only one."

She picked at the blister on her right hand, hissing. "We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well."

"As long as Lorcan isn't invited, I'm in."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Let it go."

His face turned stony. "I said I would."

"You clearly haven't."

"I'll let it go when you stop running yourself ragged at dawn."

"I'm not running myself ragged. Rowan is overseeing it."

"Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere."

Truth. Aelin curled her aching hands into fists and slid them into her pockets. Fenrys said nothing didn't ask why she didn't warm her fingers. Or the air around them. He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right?

A gull's cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she'd admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right?

Two blinks from him, too. No,

They were not alright.

They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn't let on.

None of them commented that Fenrys hadn't once used his magic to leap between places. Not that there was anywhere to go in the middle of the sea. But even when they sparred, he didn't wield it. Perhaps it had died with Connall. Perhaps it had been a gift they had both shared, and touching it was unbearable.

She didn't dare peer inward, to the churning sea inside her. Couldn't.

Aelin and Fenrys stood by the field as the sun arced higher, burning off the mists.

Aelin shook her head. Another dream, or hallucination. "If she's on our heels with this army, I'm just ... trying to understand it. Her, I mean."

"You plan to kill her." The gruel in her stomach turned over, but Aelin shrugged. Even as she tasted ash on her tongue.

"Would you prefer to do it?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said through his teeth. "And you have more of a reason to claim it than I do."

"I'd say we have an equal claim."

His dark eyes roved over her face. "Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end."

She gripped his hand and squeezed. "I know."

The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell you about it?" He didn't mean his brother.

She shook her head. "I know enough." She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. "I know enough," she repeated.

[poisonf0rest]

The Best Dreams Come in Threes

♱⋅── rafayel x reader x xavier

♱⋅── about: Rafayel and Xavier have always been there for you. One is your fire, your passion, the twin flame to your temper. The other is your light, a guiding beacon, your twin star. So when you have a nightmare, they take it upon themselves to comfort and remind you of their unconditional devotion. Even if it does lead to competition every now and then.

♱⋅── word count: 7.5k (mf...)

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, it's just nasty, threesome, jealousy, somnophilia, oral, pussydrunk boys, breeding kink, double penetration, slight spoilers

♱⋅── a/n: apologies to the two random strangers on the plane that I sat next to when the idea of this fic possessed me. I really, really hope you didn't read anything I was frantically writing down in the midst of me finishing my work report cause that shit was nasty.

art credit and inspiration due to the wonderful @/sakimenz

Lonely star, who do you shine for?

The weight of all your pasts- of all your futures- the guilt and pride you carry will only cause you to collapse, and all that will be left will be an all-consuming black hole. 

Your desperation won’t bring your sun back. 

Lonely king, don’t you know a kingdom devoid of life is a crown devoid of purpose?

You were the fire that left them, and all you have to show for the betrayal is a drowned memory and a heart wrenched from your chest, a broken promise and a forgotten story. 

You’ve changed with each lifetime, but you’ll forever be at the mercy of fate. 

And you? You’re the very curse that haunts them. 

Claws, so cold they burn, emerge from the darkness before piercing through flesh, tearing through muscle and bone as they dig into your ribcage, dragging you down into the shadows. Drowning, falling. You’re spiraling through lifetimes of failure, lifetimes of pain both your own and not, all while the claws dig closer and closer to your heart, clutching the muscle like a songbird in a cage. 

It’s the price, the price you must pay for all this pain you’ve caused, for dooming a star and killing a god. 

The clawed hand wraps around your heart, the piercing into the fluttering pulse faster and faster until—

You wake up crying. 

A hot trail of tears slides into the pillows, and a sniffle rakes through your body, the sudden movement causing a subtle disturbance to the two forms still sound asleep on either side of you. 

Funny, you can’t remember a thing, but there’s a painful throb in your chest. You’ll take another dose of your heart medicine in the morning. 

But for now, your bedroom is still dulled by the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains, and you’re in no hurry to get out of the warm covers and their embrace. 

The nightmares have become routine at this point. You never remember what they are, but you wake up with a sense of fear and dread, as though you can feel the pain all over again. It’s best not to think too much about it.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you inhale shakily one last time, trying to shake off the looming feeling when the arm around your waist shifts, tugging lightly at your loose sleep shirt before slipping under to massage the skin beneath. You let out a soft sigh, a light shudder going through your body as the gentle hands work away the tension.

“The same?” Rafayel’s words are slurred with sleep and concern, hot breath dancing along the crook of your neck as he props himself up on his elbow. You nod.

Rafayel makes a small, displeased noise before his other arm pulls you closer, his bare chest now flush against your back. The sudden movement forces Xavier, who was once tucked against your shoulder, further away, grumbling at the loss even in his sleep.

His face scrunches, brows furrowed together before the corners of his lips turn downward, and he blindly reaches for you. He eventually finds the curve of your waist, and his hand tightens on the fabric of your shirt as it slides in above Rafayel’s.

A huff, and Xavier buries his face back into your chest, his warm breath tickling you. And then, gentle snores— you should've known better than to think that would be enough to wake him.

Rafayel, still pressed firmly against your back, begins to move, propping his body up just enough to look you in the eyes as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. "Wanna talk about it, cutie?"

“I… I think you were there, both of you. But it felt lonely, painful.”

Rafayel's face contorts into a worried expression, his hand moves down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and you lean into his warm caress with a sigh.

You place a kiss on his palm. "It's okay, just a scary dream. Nothing real. Nothing to worry about." You repeat it, more to yourself than Rafayel, but his arms wrap around you anyway.

And yet Rafayel looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, a seriousness you’ve almost never seen on him.

You give him a questioning look, but his lips press to yours in a searing kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He pulls away only for a second, whispering sweet nothings against your skin before returning his lips to yours, the hand cradling your face slipping down to rest on your hip.

He kisses you softly, gently. First pressing a trail of light, chaste kisses along your jaw, the corners of your mouth, and nose, then moving back to your lips. “We’ll never leave you. We’d tear through every universe, every destiny to get back to you.”

Strange, how Rafayel says it with all the reverence of a vow. 

You want to tease him for the sudden declaration, for making all this fuss over a stupid dream, but you never have the opportunity, not when Rafayel's signature smirk settles back onto his lips. 

His hand slides down to your thighs, fingers teasing around the band of your sleep shorts, toying, pressing, but never crossing the self-imposed boundary of your clothes. “Unless, you’d prefer it if I proved it to you?”

“Rafayel,” you warn, hoping your narrowed glare would dissuade him.

Of course the man only seems to take that as a challenge, smile widening as you flinch at the cold touch creeping under your shirt. One palm traces up your ribcage, long, nimble fingers rubbing circles against your skin until he brushes the underside of your breast. 

You shudder, hissing out another string of curses before turning around so your back is to Rafayel. 

Really, you should know better than to think that alone would be enough, and a hot trail of kisses now joins his wandering hands down your shoulder blade. They start innocent enough, sweet, lingering touches along the hem of your shirt, but that quickly changes when Rafayel’s arm under your shirt practically yanks it up, sucking wet, messy kisses into the bare curves of your chest.

Each nip against your sensitive flesh forces the possibility of sleep further and further away, and you resort to distracting yourself with the motionless silhouette of Xavier. Petting through his hair, your rhythm is jolted every time Rafayel decides to leave a mark, nails pulling through Xavier’s locks as you bite your lip on a moan.

You don't miss the curve of his smirk against your skin, and the next kiss is accompanied by a bite, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp that stirs Xavier. Tense, you scan the blonde's face, but he's nothing if not a heavy sleeper, and he nuzzles further into your touch, still unconscious as his head tucks under yours.

You don't get to sigh in relief. Instead, a whine builds in your throat, the wet heat of Rafayel's teeth tugging on the strap of your underwear as he fists your sleep shorts down.

"Rafayel, stop it,” you hiss as his hot breath hits the already embarrassingly damp center of your underwear.

His smile grows, lips brushing against your clothed core as he tilts his head. “Hmm? But you don’t sound like you want me to stop. And she certainly doesn’t sound like it either.” Two fingers dip under the band, and he parts your cunt with a lewd click.

Your face flushes in embarrassment, refusing to acknowledge just how easily your body gives in to them. One hand leaves Xavier, roughly fisting into Rafayel’s curls as he groans from the sharp pressure. “That’s because you and Xavier refused to wear protection!” 

The accusation earns a hushed laugh, his shoulders shaking against the insides of your thighs. It would have been innocent, the same contagious sort of smile gracing Rafayel’s face, if not the shadows cast across his face in the dark, teeth gleaming like fangs as he traces his tongue up the entire length of your clothed cunt. 

"M’sorry, we thought you'd enjoy the mess," he says, words muffled over your thighs, nose practically buried in between. "How can I make it up to you, cutie?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not when Rafayel’s tongue dives into your clothed cunt, moaning against the soaked fabric as you gasp and force him closer by his hair. To muffle his sounds, you tell yourself. A pathetic lie considering how much louder he gets now, nose grinding up against your clit as his tongue tries to press into your fluttering cunt even with the barrier of cloth in between. 

God, he’s addicted, and it doesn’t take long until Rafayel’s spit and your slick soak through your underwear, the near-translucent fabric sticking to your lips as the bare minimum friction nearly drives you insane. 

“Say it,” Rafayel whines, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Please, just tell me how badly you want me. Tell me, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Like he wouldn’t already.

But how could you ever deny him when he begs so sweetly? 

Your palm cups his face, watching his near-wrecked expression and flushed skin tremble beneath your fingers.  “I’m yours, Rafayel.”

And the fabric is ripped into pieces. 

Refusing to even breathe, Rafayel places an opened-mouth kiss on your cunt, lapping up your slick with the most satisfied moan. He doesn't waste any time, not while your confession coated his mind with the sweetest type of intoxication, eating you out like he was depraved.

He might as well have been with how he moans, hips grinding desperately against the edge of the mattress, his not-entirely human tongue curling in and out of you as it writhes with terrifying accuracy against your walls.

It feels too good to be ashamed of the noises you make, gasping and crying out until you slam your palm over your mouth, biting down hard as the other claws into Rafayel’s hair. You can barely control yourself, half fighting to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, half rocking your hips up and down his face as you jerk him closer. 

“Mhm, greedy.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat before his words are muffled into your cunt, not baring to part for even a breath. “Pull on it, please. Harder.” 

You tug Rafayel’s hair almost in vengeance when he purposefully kisses away from where you need him most, licking and sucking obscenely into your thighs just to hear your frustrated cries even over your hand. 

He loved being used like this, so long as it was you. 

So long as it was him that turned you into such a beautiful, pathetic mess. 

It's not long until Rafayel pulls you close to the edge, nose pressing against your clit while thrusting his tongue into you, eyes rolling back from the taste and from the thought of your tight heat fluttering around his cock instead. 

And then, he stops, pulling away and leaving you gasping into the tear-stained pillow.

You bite back a sob, releasing only a choked little noise that has Rafayel's eyes flicking up to your face, the soft, concerned look in his eyes melting into something far more dangerous.

With viciously dilated pupils and your slick dripping from his mouth, Rafayel stares you down as every inch the dangerous siren the legends claimed him to be. He smiles, tongue raking over his teeth as though he couldn’t get enough of your taste, and you swear you’d let him eat your heart and soul. Gods, you’d let him eat you whole. 

You realize you must have made a sound, because Rafayel hushes you, pressing quick kisses to your knee. "Aw, what happened to being quiet? Aren't you afraid we'll wake the poor sleeping bunny?" 

At the mention of your other partner, you turn to where Xavier’s nuzzling his face further into your side, each warm breath damp against your feverish skin, still lost to the realm of dreams.

Not that Rafayel allows your attention to turn away from himself for too long. 

He leans over Xavier, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight cupping your face, and his lips are crashing into yours with all the viciousness of a summer seastorm. Your lips part, and Rafeyel fucks his tongue into your mouth the same he did your pussy, wet and desperate, the taste of yourself enough to make you dizzy. 

"Tell me,” Rafayel’s tone dips into something darker, kissing down your throat and stomach as he eyes Xavier. “Who’s the better lover?" 

Xavier's fingers flex, the tips brushing against the curve of your breast as he sleeps, and Rafayel's smile is almost predatory.

"D-don't ask stupid questions you dumb fish," your voice cracks as Rafayel's mouth ghosts over your cunt, teeth bared to your thigh, threatening to bite. "I chose you both."

The confession, as expected, doesn't please him. If anything, he seems overly offended, pouting and huffing a cold breath of air right against your aching core. The chill makes you squirm, trying to force him back to your center with the grip you have on his hair.

"No. Nope. That's not an answer."

"Raf–"

His name breaks off in a moan, sound ripped from your throat as Rafayel's thumb starts rubbing firm circles around your neglected clit. He doesn't relent, the pressure too much, too quick, your body already trembling from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to torture you with.

Only, it seems that all your sudden noise and movement have finally begun to affect Xavier. Not enough to wake him, but enough that you can hear his breathing become heavier, following your every twitch and buck from Rafayel’s onslaught as his body begins to grind into yours.

Mumbling into your neck, Xavier’s hand tightens around your waist before slipping under your shirt to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading until the touch has you keening.

Xavier's still fast asleep, nonsensical words slurred against your skin, and yet his body is now far from it. His erection is thick and heavy against your hips, grinding desperately into your warmth almost in time to Rafayel’s ministrations, whimpering under his breath with every forceful thrust. 

Rafayel notices too, his gaze drifting up to the blond. You can't see his face, already busied between your legs once more, but a pleased hum vibrates through his entire body, fingers finally slipping into your cunt as he curls them just right, your back arching off the sheets with a silent scream. 

Xavier whines at your sudden thrashing, tugging you closer and unknowingly forcing you immobile and at complete mercy to Rafayel’s unfairly skilled fingers. "Mhm, so warm. Please, m’want to..." Another needy, slow grind against you follows his sleepy request. 

"Rafayel," you choke out a muffled plea, but his eyes only narrow, taking a breath as his free hand grabs at Xavier's ass, the touch just light enough to tease and make him rut harder against you.

"What is it, cutie? Don't pretend like you don't want more, not when your pretty pussy's drooling for his cock. She’s so needy, am I not enough?”

Rafayel rests his head on the inside of your thigh, fingers thrusting roughly into that sweet spongy spot inside you just as his other hand wraps around the base of Xavier's cock through his boxers, thumbing over the pre-cum staining the dark fabric. 

You're forced to bite down on the pillow beneath your head to stop the desperate cry tearing itself out of your throat. "This isn’t- ah- isn’t right."

"Isn't it? You’re dripping and the little bunny’s still asleep, yet look how desperate he is, rutting against you." Rafayel's voice dips, a raspy edge from his throat still fucking into you making it even more sinful, slurping everything you give him around his fingers before it drips down his wrist and into a puddle below. A huff, “I should get rewarded with how much effort I’m putting in.”

You cry out, legs trembling as his thumb begins its relentless attack on your clit, tracing mindless circles just random enough to keep you on edge. You're close, and Rafayel can feel it.

Xavier isn’t faring much better, whimpering a string of incoherent pleas into the crook of your neck as his hips keep rocking into the fist around him. He doesn't take his mouth away from the skin of your shoulder, biting down on it as he cums, shuddering and whimpering as the mess splatters down Rafayel's knuckles and onto your thighs. 

“You’re next. If you won’t be honest with me, I’ll make your body is.” Rafayel’s taunt is the last coherent thing you remember before you come. Hard. His words ring against your skull as his fingers pump into you faster, and the pressure against your clit becomes almost unbearable, and you're falling apart, crying and thrashing, the only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of Rafayel's weight and the scent of Xavier's strawberry shampoo, and then—

Rafayel finally shuts up to let you ride his face through your high, letting you use him as your thighs lock around his head, grinding desperately as though he were no more than a toy. No chance of breathing, no chance of escape. 

Not that he could care less, not as long as he could keep his lips around your gushing cunt, humming and sucking into your release as cum sprays over his tongue and down his chin. Gods, he could never get enough of this.

You're still shaking through your orgasm, pliant and stupid from the dizzying pleasure, that you don't notice the rustle of sheets until a second pair of hands slide down your thighs. 

"You’re doing this without me?" 

Xavier’s voice is a whisper, husky from sleep and his orgasm as he presses a kiss right below your ear, fingers squeezing rougher against your breasts.

"S-sorry. Didn't want to wake you," you try, biting back a gasp when his thumb flicks over a nipple. Rough. Mean. 

Rafayel snorts. "I think it's a bit too late for that.” A glare at Xavier over your leg, showing off your cum still dripping from his lips and fingers. ”Besides, I didn't need you."

You want to argue, really, but then Xavier is grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging just hard enough to push your head back, coaxing a moan from your throat as he marks down your neck with kisses intending to bruise. He’s pouting, grabbing your jaw as he forces your gaze away from Rafayel, nipping your bottom lip until you surrender to his drowsy advances.

“Why…” Another kiss before Xavier's licking desperately into your mouth, “Why didn't you wake me?"

The question comes out a little breathless, almost petulant, eyes hooded and dark as he looks over the mess Rafayel has made of you. He can't tear his eyes away, watching Rafayel even as he kisses you. His fingers flick over your nipple again, twisting and pinching until you're shaking, your thighs squeezing Rafayel's face, all while Xavier watches.

Said man only smiles, all smug arrogance. "Didn't you hear her, Xav? She said she didn't want to wake you, so don't blame me."

Rafayel drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss over your cunt, the overstimulation making you break the kiss with a gasp.

"Liar." Xavier's voice trembles, and you can't tell if he's referring to Rafayel's words, or the way he's staring longingly at Rafayel's lips now, still slick with your release. "You just wanted her all to yourself."

He doesn't bother giving Rafayel a chance to retort, taking the punishment out on you as he dips his head underneath your folded-up shirt, groaning as his hot tongue rolls over your nipple, sucking at the stiff peak as his hand continues to assault the other. The onslaught has you whimpering, pushing and clawing against Xavier’s shoulder to try and fight him off as he refuses to let go for even a moment. 

Rafayel's not one to be ignored, not when he has the advantage, and his tongue is back to fucking into your cunt with no reprieve, a cruel smirk on his face as you writhe and beg for their mercy.

Your hips roll, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity, unable to escape either of the men. It's overwhelming. Too much, too quickly, you only just came and you're already getting dragged back.

"Ah! Stop, I'm already mhm—"

You're interrupted by Xavier's tongue slipping into your mouth, a filthy, lazy slide that makes you grind up into Rafayel's tongue. It's like he doesn't even need to breathe, the wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out drowned out only by the sound of Xavier kissing you senseless, pausing just to nip and suck at your breasts as though he'll get rewarded if he just tries hard enough. 

"You want him to stop? Is the mermaid not enough to satisfy you, princess?" Xavier taunts, lips brushing against your ear as his hips push up, grinding his cock against your thigh. "If that's the case, perhaps we should switch. I can give you exactly what you want, remember?"

“Shut up, I’m the one making her cum.”

“Only cause I wasn’t awake yet.”

“You snooze, you lose. Whose fault is that? Oh ya, yours.” 

They're at each other's throats yet again, practically clawing and snapping at each other, and you're helpless to try and intervene when they take their faux anger out on your poor abused body. 

You can't think, can't focus, can't do anything but shake and pant and sob into the pillow, their combined weight on top of you, forcing your pleasure higher and higher. 

“Xav—" He cuts you off with a kiss. 

“Shh, just take it."

You can't even tell who’s sloppier anymore- Xavier fucking your mouth with his tongue or Rafayel still eating you through your second orgasm, the sudden hit of it thundering down your body. 

“You look so pretty when you come," Xavier moans into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, hand coming up to stroke your cheek as he watches you, a sharp contrast to the other still rolling against your swollen nipple, loving the way you jerk into his touch. Then a glare to the man below. "My turn.”

Your body is still trembling, Rafayel's merciless fingers not allowing you to come down from your high, aftershocks of hypersensitivity crashing down your spine as every muscle spasms. No more. No more, please. You can’t possibly come again. 

You don't realize you’re begging out loud, not until Xavier shushes you with another bruising kiss. 

But it doesn't seem like Rafayel has any plans on stopping, not until Xavier’s hand skims down your thighs and yanks him up by the chain of his necklace. 

Rafayel growls as he's practically forced off your weeping cunt, eyes bleary and unfocused as he fights the blond's grip. And god, he looks absolutely wrecked, spit and cum dripping from his mouth and chin, connecting his lips to your pussy in sticky wet strands before they break, and you feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against his soaked boxers. 

Xavier yanks him forward, pulling the necklace chain until he crashes his lips onto Rafayel's, all teeth and tongue, desperate to get a taste of your cum from his mouth. It's filthy, and Rafayel is the first to give in, still drunk off your taste and now Xavier's too.

"Mhm, you taste like her," Xavier whispers, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his mouth still moving against Rafayel's swollen, parted lips.

"Ya?" Rafayel’s grin is predatory, all fang and sin. "You wanna try too, don’t you? Give in then, bunny, lie down for us.”

"I don't take orders from you." 

Xavier scowls against Rafayel's lips, but you can feel his resolve breaking, his arm trembling where it rests against your thigh. 

"No, you take them from her, and she asked us so, so nicely to make her come. You wouldn't dare deny her that, would you?”

The Lemurian is nothing if not dangerously persistent, one hand coaxing Xavier backward so gently you don’t think he realizes how easily he’s falling, the other clawing down his abs as Rafayel bites against the erratic thud of Xavier’s pulse. Sharp and bruising, a silent promise for what to come. "Or do you wanna eat her out like I did? Have her ride your face while I fuck into her poor, desperate cunt? I can't decide, there are so many options."

“No.” It’s more a plea than a demand. Xavier's voice shakes with need, and you watch, dizzy and panting, as Rafayel's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Xavier's boxers. His fingers, still dripping with your cum, brush down the length of his cock, thumb circling the sensitive head and smearing the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from it. “You had y-your turn.” 

He can hardly finish his objection, not when Rafayel’s thumb comes up to abuse his leaking slit, Xavier’s words slurring into a desperate whine as he practically collapses back onto his elbows. Immediately, Rafayel is atop him.

"A competition, then." Rafayel leans down to whisper into Xavier's ear, but the words are purposefully teased out loud enough for you to hear, “But you lose if you cum first, and I get to fuck her.”

It's a low blow, a challenge he knows Xavier can't turn down. 

A challenge that somehow has you poised once again as the torment and the reward.

And it's true, because the second the words register, the blond's eyes shoot open, and his cock jerks violently against Rafeyel’s palm, a broken sound leaving his lips as his eyes lock back onto yours with all the promise of a starving hunter.

"Deal.”

Xavier doesn't allow the agreement to go without a price. Something snaps, the bedroom flickering with a sudden darkness as all the light vanishes. 

One moment, you’re lying against the bed, and the next Xavier manhandles you to your knees, one hand forcing your arms behind your back as he tugs you against him, the other pinning Rafayel to the mattress.

Rafayel’s the very picture of smug sin, the feral expression far more genuine, less threatening and much more amused as he nestles further into the pillows, one arm tucked lazily behind his head. 

Cold fingers dance up your hips, and Rafayel drags your bare cunt over his thighs and onto his lap, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as you're pinned deliciously between his cock and Xavier's sculpted back.

"So needy, little bunny."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who's leaking."

Rafayel snorts, and before the two can start fighting again, you're leaning forward, a hand resting against Rafayel's abs as you cup his erection through his boxers. And when he moans you believe every myth, every fairytale singing the doom of sailors to a siren song, because every sound he gives you is addictive and sweet enough that you’d drown to hear it again. 

Pulling Rafayel's cock out from his boxers, you’re stunned yet again by the slightly non-human beauty of it, heavy and thick in your palm, the flushed, ruddy tip already drooling precum as you thumb at it in vengeance. You know Xavier's watching from the way his own cock twitches against your back, hands digging bruises into your hips. Then, the warmth at your back disappears. 

Instead, a pair of hands drag your ass up, forcing you into a deep arch as you scramble for purchase against Rafayel’s thigh and the bed below.

“Closer.” Xavier’s hand laces into your hair as he pushes your head down, forcing your mouth to nuzzle against the base of Rafayel's cock. 

The movement pulls a gasp from both of you, your hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Rafayel's shaft and forcing a shudder from his entire body. 

Seeing the two of you completely at his mercy does terrible, horrible things to Xavier, and his fingers dig bruises into your hips as it takes him everything not to forgo the competition and fuck you right there. 

"Good girl,” he hums, voice trembling as his grip tightens against your hair, giving you a harsh glare when you whine and squirm in his hold. "Now open."

You can't bring yourself to say no, not when the sight of Rafayel's eyes rolling back the second you do makes your stomach clench. His cock twitches against you as you lick at the copious amounts of cum leaking from his tip, then obediently wrap your lips around him.

With a smile that would have you shaking, Xavier leans down, barely able to continue guiding your head as he’s entranced with the mess between your legs, licking up the slick dripping down your thighs as he sucks against the delicate flesh, marking right over the sensitive bruises Rafayel had only just left behind. 

 “This- hah-” Rafayel curses under his breath, the single word breaking off into a moan, the sound muffled by his palm as his chest heaves. “This is hardly fair.”

But his complaints feel half-hearted, not with the way he’s already rutting into your mouth, Xavier’s iron grip keeping you in place as Rafayel thrusts himself into your mouth in one breath. You yield pathetically quick, flattening your tongue against the slick underside of his cock, another stream of pre-cum flooding your mouth as you nearly choke on it all, unable to pull off to even take a breath as Xavier guides your head up and down in a steady rhythm that has Rafayel falling apart. 

It’s cruel, but you can't help each pathetic moan that gets muffed onto Rafayel’s cock, the vibrations forcing his back to arch off the bed, head rolling back as it thuds against the pillows, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps in shallow breaths.

You almost wish he would let you see his eyes, but then you'd miss the view of his chest, every muscle tight and twitching under his skin, the mesmerizing sight now blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You can't resist reaching up, dragging your nails down his abs, watching his body jerk against every new line of red.

"Please,” you're not sure if the broken whimper belonged to Rafayel or yourself. “Please, I can't wait anymore, wanna feel you— fuck— wanna fill you up again, please let me cum." It's like just the very thought has Rafayel keening, his hips jerking up into your hot mouth with reckless abandon as Xavier forces your spine up into a deeper arch.

You're nearly bent in half, the new angle leaving no part of you hidden from Xavier's hungry gaze as he watches you practically drool over Rafayel’s cock, lips meeting his pelvis as he breaches your throat. 

Xavier’s going to win. He needs to win. 

The thought makes him frantic, tongue fucking past the tight resistance of your cunt, his hand sliding up to tease at your clit. He won't be the one to finish first, not this time. Not when he's wanted nothing more than to feel your cunt gushing around him ever since Rafayel woke him up, ever since the two of you had the audacity to start this without him.

Rafayel can’t last much longer, especially not when you bring one shaking hand down to massage his swollen balls, hardly in control of your own movements as you feel dizzy on the addictive combination from the lack of oxygen and pleasure as Xavier begins to eat you out like a man starved. 

The room’s filled with the sounds of each slick, messy movement, whimpers from the man beneath you and breathless pleas from the one behind, bed rattling with every thrust. 

And yet you’re still so painfully empty. So, so, empty as your cunt flutters around Xavier’s tongue before he relents to kiss your clit once more, dragging a dissatisfied whine from you as you fight yourself off Rafayel’s cock. 

"F-fuck me. Please," A sob, and you feel both Rafayel and Xavier shudder. "It’s not enough. Want your cocks inside me, wanna cum on it. Need it, please-"

Oh, and when you beg like that, they should have known they never would have stood a chance.

"Shit."

"Ah, please-"

It's a blur. A rush of hands, of pleasure and pain, all of it colliding and dragging you to the edge. The room spins, the ceiling above you falling until the familiar, comforting feeling of slick muscle embraces you, grounding you as you focus on the erratic heartbeat between each ragged exhale. 

You're still sandwiched between them, lying on Rafayel as Xavier's weight drapes across your back, head propped up on the former's chest as you stare blearily at his silver pendant, unable to move. You're not even sure if you can, not with the way Xavier's still gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you open as he forces one leg higher up.

Then, the blunt head of his cock grinds between your folds.

Xavier’s pressing his forehead against your back, wrapping his arms around you before biting into the crook of your neck. "You mean it? You’ll let us come inside again?"

Rafayel laughs, a raspy sound still raw from his orgasm. "Well, we both lost. Now what, bunny? We can't just leave her like this, poor thing is trembling." 

"Mhm,” Xavier forces you up, “We both fuck her then."

His words only make you whimper, body jerking uselessly against Xavier's grip. His hands lift you as Rafayel flips you around so you're now facing the blond, flinching violently as his cock brushes your swollen clit, any semblance of protest quelled as Xavier pulls you into another messy kiss. 

It’s demanding, Xavier mumbling achingly sweet praises into your open mouth as he begins to press you down, faster, harsher, forcing you onto Rafayel’s lap in a reverse cowgirl as you slide down slowly, taking inch by inch of Rafayel’s throbbing cock. There’s hardly any blue left in Xavier’s blow-out pupils, too mesmerized by the slick mess you’re gushing down their thighs. And just when you begin to squirm, impatient and desperate, Xavier slows their pace even more.

"Shhh, we need to make sure you'll be able to take both of us."

Rafayel's hand is wrapped around your waist, thumb rubbing small circles into your stomach, and if it weren't for Xavier's arms locked around you, holding you upright, you would have collapsed the second Rafayel pressed into the spot his fingers had found.

"Look at you," he purrs, a low sound that has you gasping. "So pretty when you’re needy. Can you feel me?"

It's hard not to. Everywhere feels warm, and every slow thrust, no matter how gentle, has a small burst of ecstasy building in your stomach, a wave crashing higher and higher as the two of them slowly fuck you full. Just as you’re nearly seated all the way onto Rafayel’s length, Xavier’s palms come up to the back of your knees, folding them up and forcing you backward until you’re practically lying prone atop of Rafayel.

Your head lolls uselessly against Rafayel's neck, gasping at the force of the new position,  and you're not sure if it's the tears in your eyes or the overwhelming pressure against your walls as they stretch around his cock that's making the world so blurry. Xavier soon follows you down, pressing you closer into Rafayel’s chest as his lips trail your jaw, your neck, your sucking against every sensitive spot behind your ears until you're distracted from the pain.

"You're doing so good, princess. Just a little more."

The sudden onslaught of pressure of both of you atop him has Rafayel flinching, and he hisses out a pained moan, hips jerking up into the slick heat of your pussy, and it's only Xavier's grip that keeps the two of you from slipping off.

"Hah- hurry up-" Rafayel's eyes are glassy, his head tipped back and face twisted in pleasure. 

Strings of incoherent pleas are whispered against your ear, Rafayel marking up the left side of your neck while Xavier’s still busy with the right, that is, until Xavier switches sides, biting right over Rafayel’s marks until he’s pulled up into a desperate kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips are filthy and obscene, each hot breath and moan brushing past your ear as you writhe, pressed between them. Rafayel's cock is already swelling, twitching against the fluttering walls of your pussy, unwilling to fully pull out, settling to just grinding up in slow, cruel thrusts before something in him snaps and he switches to pounding against your abused walls.

Every time you think you’ll finally come Rafayel switches pace, the obscene slap of skin on skin muffled only by your sobs and their kissing. 

You’re close, so so fucking close you feel your muscles begin to shake. Xavier only pushes you down further, every angle a new cruelty, smothering you between them, rendering you unable to do anything but take it.

Again, Rafayel slows, and you slur curses down at him as your thighs tremble from overstimulation, shaking violently until you feel something grab your calf. Xavier massages the quivering muscle, gentle until he’s suddenly pressing your knee higher and higher, going until it’s pinned to the mattress up against your head.

And now Rafayel is hitting impossibly deeper, abusing your poor g-spot with each thrust. 

Xavier kisses your ankle, then calf, making his way up your leg until he can nip at your inner thighs now folded over his shoulder. And then you feel the pressure of his cock at your already full entrance. Xavier’s hand dips down between your bodies, trying to bully himself in alongside Rafayel, but his cock slides past your navel, slick and covered in your combined cum. 

"No, no no, not gonna fit- ah- Xavier!"

Your words break off into a wail as he tries again, grinding closer so you’re tightly cradled between the two, Xavier leaning fully atop you both. A snarl grits through his jaw when his cock slips past again, readjusting you so your legs fall apart wider, the burn in your thighs turning delicious and overwhelming, pussy weeping around Rafayel’s cock as Xavier’s swollen, leaking head bumps against your clit. 

Xavier watches the mess, every thrust and messy squirt of cum, brows furrowed and flushed a deep red, as he whines into your shoulder, "Please- can't stop- please let me fuck you too, you'll look so pretty with both of us filling you up, taking us so good- don’t make me stop."

He’s reduced to babbling against your neck, biting down hard enough to bleed when your cunt finally yields to him too, cockhead bumping into Rafayel’s as he slowly pushes in inch and inch, trembling from the combined pleasure of your walls and the violent throbbing of every vein now grinding together.

It's too much, it’s not enough, the stretch and the friction and the pressure leaving you fucked stupid, hands scrambling for purchase. Rafayel grunts when your nails drag across his thighs, his own hands coming to latch onto your wrists, pinning them above his head, forcing you motionless between them.

You can do nothing but sob, tears streaming down your face as your entire body convulses. And when they finally, finally bottom out together, the world goes white.

"Shh, you're alright," Rafayel soothes, although his voice is trembling, the sound broken as he tries to catch his breath. "Doing so well for us, cutie, so perfect."

Xavier growls, his hands grabbing the headboard. He's barely holding on, not with the way Rafayel's cock twitches against his own, your hot walls clenched tightly around the two of them as you beg.

"Please, can't- too much, more, I need-"

There's a broken sob, and then Xavier’s slamming his hips forward, fucking into you with a brutality he usually saves for Rafayel, the force sending the three of you rocking against the mattress, headboard splintering under the strength of his grip. The other leaves to thumb at your nipples, lips following suit as he rambles, drunk off your pussy, "These would look s'pretty filled, even more sensitive. Bet you'd let us milk you, fill you up even more."

"And here, you'll feel us here too, won't you?" A hand moves lower- whose you no longer are coherent enough to care- brushing over the swell of your abdomen, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing where both of them are thrusting violently into you. "Be a waste not to. Imagine it, a painted mess filled with us.”

And you are. You can't think about anything else, not with the way they're stuffing you full— every time Rafayel's cock would settle near your g-spot Xavier’s would ram back in, forcing the former up against your cervix before pulling out entirely, repeating the vicious rhythm as the pain bled into pleasure. 

Tears stream down the side of your face, room spinning into dizziness until all that remains are the burning trails of their touch, the only things keeping you grounded. 

Rafayel's sucking into your shoulder, biting the sweat-slicked flesh, and you can feel his hips begin to stutter underneath you, already reaching his high despite Xavier still pounding into you with the same intensity, desperate to catch up.

The moment Xavier feels Rafayel's release, it's over. Your back arches up against him, convulsing against their hold, your abused walls clenching down so tightly that you’re practically begging for them to come inside, sucking them in deeper and deeper until it’s impossible for them not to follow.

It's a violent orgasm, hot squirt of your cum drenching Xavier’s abs, the intensity of it causing Rafayel’s vision to white out too, unable to hear the desperate sounds of your moans, not when his blood is rushing past his ears.

Then, the world comes crashing back.

Rafayel’s panting, still thrusting weakly into the slick, tight heat as he emptied himself inside you, the sheer overload of it gushing down your legs and onto the sheets. 

"Ah- Xavier," you whine, the sound muffled into his chest as Xavier continues to chase after his high, too lost in his late orgasm to pull out.

The overstimulation is torture, your body twitching and trembling with every sloppy thrust. The moment he finally pulls out, the mess follows, thick, white rivets leaking down your thighs, the sheer volume near damn concerning had you the capacity to focus on it.

Rafayel laughs, fingers swirling through the cum as though painting your thighs, "That's not going to be easy to clean up."

"S'gonna look pretty. Messy. Full." Xavier murmurs, still pinning the both of you beneath him as he collapses in exhaustion, fingers dancing over the small swell in your stomach. Pressing lightly, he watches in fascination as their mixed cum gushes out faster, and you whimper, gripping his wrists to stop before they get any more ideas. 

You're not sure what's worse, the fact that they're both still hard and the way they're looking at you, or the fact that their words have your exhausted body already trying to recover, a shiver running through your sore muscles as the room's cool air brushes over the slick, sticky mess between your thighs.

"You're both so disgusting," you groan, the words coming out slurred and barely audible. 

"You love it."

"Yeah," Xavier's agreement is soft and almost hesitant. "You love us."

"Yes, I love both of you. Now get the fuck off of me." A shove, your shaking arm barely affecting Xavier as he finally relents, a small smile on his lips as he rolls the three of you down into the bed, resting on your sides. 

The muscles in your thighs scream in relief as they’re finally placed down, every inch of your body sore and marked up in one way or another, every visible bruise and bite getting pampered in faux apologies by the two men snuggling up next to you.

It’s a tangle of limbs, Xavier already claiming your chest again as he nuzzles into your breasts while Rafayel simply curls himself around your back. A hand there, an arm there, and a little more muffled bickering. Yet you all fit together, and sleep comes easy now. 

And the nightmares never return.

[readwritealldayallnight]

You know the woman in line behind you is getting impatient, hearing her not so subtle exasperated sigh as you continue to search through your bag, your cheeks burning a deeper shade of crimson when you catch the barista’s tight lipped smile in your direction, her attempt at reassuring you as part of her job, though you can tell she wishes you’d hurry up as well

As if your debit card declining a mortifying four times hadn’t been enough, but then your attempt at using your credit card was just as unsuccessful, the sound of the failed transaction on a stupid 6£ drink sounding out for everyone in queue to know how broke you really were

Embarrassment coursing through your veins, already thinking about how you’ll never have the guts to come back to this cafe again as you desperately search for enough spare change at the bottom of your purse to cover this morning’s coffee, your scrambling comes to a pause when a large shadow suddenly eclipses the overheard lighting above you

In the midst of your frantic searching, a tall figure has come to stand just next to you, their gloved hand stretching past your figure to tap a card against the machine, the happy beep of the teller confirming the transaction’s been accepted this time

“I’ve got tha’ for ya.” A deep, gravelly Manchester accent mutters low enough for only you to hear, before the figure tries to retreat back into queue unnoticed

You eyebrows shoot up in shock, the barista equally appearing surprised but not displeased as she finally gets to hand you your drink and quickly wish you a good day before she’s already trying to help the woman waiting behind you

You step aside out of the queue, swinging your head around to try and spot your mystery saviour who stepped in and helped you out without even needing so much as a thanks in return apparently

You spot him instantly, the absolute size of him easily giving him away. No one else in the small cafe could have created such a large, intimidating shadow, let alone spoken in such a deep voice that sent chills down your spine

He stands a head above anyone else in queue, currently last in the line after he stepped out to pay for you. He’s wearing a simple black medical mask on the lower half of his face, a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head offers you only a small glimpse of his eyes, which are noticeably pointed at the ground at the moment

You’re walking towards him before you even realize it

“Th- thank you. I don’t-” You’re cut off when those same eyes glance up to meet your own, stealing your breath away. He seems almost as surprised that you’re speaking to him as you were when he stepped in and paid for you, his eyes betraying his shock for only a fraction of a second before he’s steeling himself and his eyes darken. You get the vague impression that he isn’t someone who’s used to being caught off guard

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.” You say to him, wanting to express just how grateful you are to him for his random act of kindness, but he says nothing in return, hardly blinking once as he simply stares back at you

“I can’t understand why my cards weren’t working today. I promise I don’t like- this isn’t a thing I do. Go into coffee shops and pretend I can’t pay, hoping someone else will…” You awkwardly laugh to yourself, beginning to ramble in an effort to fill in the silence

“Anyways I just, really wanted to say thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re scrambling now, attempting to save face as this man just looks at you, an arm beginning to swing your purse off your shoulder in hopes of maybe finding enough change to appease this guy

“Not necessary.” The deep voice finally says again, his eyes leaving yours to scan you from top to bottom and then back up again, almost examining the sight before him. You almost feel like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, seeing the mask moving along with the sound of that gravelly voice an enrapturing vision

“Oh- well I- I mean that’s really nice of you, but I swear I can pay you back.” You recognize that feeling beginning to swirl low in your stomach, familiar with the warmth gathering in the apples of your cheeks; your body realizing it a split second before your brain catches up. You’re kind of into this guy. You can’t see much of his face, but the sliver you do see certainly isn’t unattractive, his height and build speaks for itself, with a voice like that and the fact that he’s just saved your butt and expected not even a thanks in return, you’re wondering if he’s too good to be true

“Do you come here often?” You’re asking him before you can stop yourself, watching a single one of his eyebrows arching ever so slightly. “I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”

You’re losing confidence the longer he stands there, not answering. What were you thinking? This guy was just trying to be nice, get the annoying girl holding up the line out of the way so that people can order their drinks and go about their day, and here you are holding him up even longer-

“If it’ll make ya happy.” He’s suddenly answering, snapping you out of your downward spiral. If you could see the grin that slowly creeps upon your face, you might be otherwise embarrassed, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh okay, amazing. I mean- yeah that would- that would be cool. Okay.” You reply, glancing at your watch. “I’m not sure for you, but um, I’m almost always here each Sunday. Around this time.”

“I’ll be here next Sunday. Around this time.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Next in line please.” The barista at the corner calls out, interrupting the two of you. You glance back to see that it’s now his turn to order, feeling bad that you’re about to hold up the queue yet again.

“Great. I’ll see you Sunday then. Thank you again, seriously. I really owe you one.” You say, gripping the straps of your bag tighter as you offer him a sheepish smile before ducking out of the busy cafe, a small grin playing across your face.

Ghost watches your figure through the large windows as you walk out of the shop, across the street, disappearing into the crowd of morning goers strolling about. Only once he cannot see you anymore, does he walk up to the counter, slipping a 20£ note to the barista along with a slight nod of acknowledgement, before he himself is turning to walk out of the cafe, empty handed, intent on catching up to you from a distance.

~~~~~~~~~~

AKA Ghost has been stalking you for months and finally comes up with a way to have you approach him

[dmitriene]

patching simon riley while sitting perched on his lap, one of his hands curled lazily around your waist, holding, anchoring himself to the moment as you busy yourself with his stab wound, checking and trying to treat it properly.

you're nervous, teary eyed as you look at the bleeding gash, because simon is a stubborn bastard that didn't let the medics take care of him, hastily bandaging his wound on his own, before taking his things once they landed on base and hurry back home to his sweet wifey.

that's how he ended seated on the bed, with your body tugged against his sturdy, slightly heaving chest, your fingers trembling a bit as you check how deep the wound is, warm salty tears streaming down your raw cheeks.

simon is sorry, he's accustomed to the fact that people around him not that sensitive to seeing him wounded, but you, his sweet darling, cry your heart out in a bleeding worry for him, and he's so sorry for scaring you, making you sniffle about that he can get an infection, and could've even die.

soothes you with warm kisses against your face, your tears salty on his lips, as he grasps softly at your trembling, stained with blood fingers, not disgusted at all to kiss them too, looking at how your face scrunches in another wave of tears.

he tells you it's alright, that he won't let himself leave you, especially this way, and this stab wound is absolute nothing in comparison to what he experienced before, so you calm down a bit, hands rubbing along his chest as you take a shuddering breath in, getting back to work.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[goawaygoongit]

i literally deserve some kind of award for not snapping and beating anyone up over the course of my (almost over only 8 months left thank god) public school career....like ik at my school they do a 'turnaround award' where 'bad' kids that sort themselves out get a nice award....they need 2 make one for people that have held themselves together for 12 years without beating the living shit out of people...

[rodolfoparras]

Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)

Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader

Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow

Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.

Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.

Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.

Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.

“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.

His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.

“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.

Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.

So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”

A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”

And you’re so so close yet so far away.

He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“

“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.

“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.

There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”

“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.

With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.

Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.

“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”

This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.

It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.

Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”

By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack

“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.

Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.

“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.

It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.

“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.

“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.

Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.

“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”

[anqelrafe]

— ୨ৎ panties to the side

synopsis: teasing rafe with the lingerie he gifted you so much during your valentines date, he snaps and bends you over the counter in a restaurant bathroom. authors note: very excited about valentines day if you couldn't tell. a little pissed cause why is it so hard to find cute valentines pics?! ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ) anywaysss, enjoy!! content warnings: not proofread. contains smut, mdni. rafe's (very canon) obsession with lace. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. public sex. implications of almost being caught at the end. lmk if i missed anyway <3

it was all his fault—or at least that's how you viewed it. he had left you all alone for several weeks to go on some stupid trip to Morocco that he wouldn't give up the smallest detail about. and it's not like you could easily satisfy yourself either; rafe meant it when he said nothing and no one could compare to him. not to mention all of your toys that mysteriously went missing the day he left. so of course you'd be a little extra needy the day he came back.

rafe was trying to be patient with you—he really was. but you kept leaning over in that tight sexy low cut red dress, purposely putting your perfect tits on full display for him; and they way he'd catch you eye fucking him whenever you thought he wasn't looking made him want to rip that dress off of you in front of everyone.

the worst part is how infuriatingly coy you've been acting all night whenever he'd try to confront you; casually brushing it off as him being dirty minded.

“rafe.” you drawl, looking up from the menu and finding rafe starring at your exposed cleavage for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. his tongue instinctively sticks out to lick his lips, eyes darting up to meet yours before he clears his throat, leaning back in his seat. he was already unashamedly hard under the table, not at all bothering to hide it. “yeah, sweetheart?”

“i need to go to the bathroom n touch up my makeup. tell the waiter i want the chicken marsala when they come over, ‘kay?” you murmured, already standing from your seat and grabbing your purse. “alright,” rafe hummed, calling after you “hurry back, yeah?”

“uh huh.” you nod curtly, trying to fight smirk on your face as you purposely let your tube of lip gloss slip from your bag. all so you could bend over and pick it up on your way to the bathroom, causing your tiny dress to ride up, exposing the swell of your ass to him, clad in the red lacy panties he had surprised you with this morning—the ones he specifically told you to save for tonight.

that's all it took for rafe to snap and confirm you knew exactly what you've been doing all night.

he shot up from his seat, the metal legs of the chair scraping against the marble floors as he hasted to the women's bathroom, swinging the door open, eliciting gasps from both you and the other two women at the sinks.

“you two get the hell out.” rafe grunted, already moving behind you to press his hand to the small of your back, bending you over the counter as the women hurriedly grab their things and leave the bathroom.

“can't fuckin take you anywhere, hm?” his hands travel down, lifting the bottom of your dress, bunching it around your waist. “mmh, just couldn't wait til later.” you respond softly, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties to pull them down, only to have rafe grip your wrists and place your hands onto the counter in front of you. “nah, keep em on. bought them for a reason, yeah?”

the rattle of his belt being undone fills the bathroom, the sound of his zipper unfastening following soon after. he slides his pants along with his boxers down in one swift movement, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing his hard and throbbing cock; the tip flushed with beads of precum dripping down the shaft.

he pulls his tongue between his teeth as he uses one hand to hook his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, the material of the lace rubbing against your sensitive bud, making a soft whimper leave your mouth. “ah, yeah—fuck—look at that. all fuckin wet just by me sitting there. tsk tsk, you've gotten nastier since i've been gone, yeah?” he groans, eyes fixed on the way your juices are saturating your panties. “damn, baby...i love these panties on you..so pretty. gonna order you ten more when we get home, alright?” you could tell how true that statement was by the way his fingers ran over the lace, admiring the delicate pattern against your skin with an intense stare.

rafe ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rubbing his flushed tip through your puffy drenched folds before easily sliding into your drooling cunt. “o-oh my gosh” you mewl, hands gripping the counter as his cock slides in and out of you in quick, deep strokes; your gummy walls clenching around him every time he brushes against your cervix. “fuuck.” rafe groaned, jaw going slack as he grabbed onto the fabric of your panties, pulling you back into him to meet his thrust “grippin me so fuckin good.”

“bet this is all you were think’n about, huh? you knew what you were doing all night, baby. you just needed this cock, hm?” rafe murmured, watching you through the mirror—the way your glossed lips parted, brows furrowed in pleasure, eyes fluttering whenever his angle would change ever so slightly.

“mmhm.” you reply in a whine, your grip on the counter tightening as you bite down on your already swollen lips, trying to keep your moans and whimpers from being heard by anyone behind the door. “shit, that all you can say? got’cha all speechless already.” a strangled moan leaves you in response, your mind becoming cloudy and overwhelmed as his thumb presses to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles on the throbbing bud.

“r-rafe...” you whimper as your legs start trembling and your eyes squeeze shut. rafe groans softly, feeling you start to clench around him. “mmh i know, i know,” he murmured, the speed of both his hips and thumb increasing. “you gonna cum, yeah? go on, baby...lemme have it.”

your eyes roll back as the coil in your stomach finally snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as your orgasm washes over you. rafe continues his thrusts as your cunt flutters around him, your body slumping over the counter as he helps you ride out your climax.

the way you squeezed around him pushed rafe over the edge, jaw going slack as his cock twitches inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum painting your walls. “fuuck.” he moans as his eyes flutter shut briefly before they open again, watching you through the mirror. leisurely, his movements fade until he eventually comes to a halt, his breathing ragged.

leaning forward, rafe plants a few kisses on your trembling body, opening his mouth to speak before he's interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

shit.

taglist 🪽: : @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl @plaidcowboy @missquantic @rafesdiorperfume @minitarayummy @this-one-weeb @akobx @mystianqel @lacebambidoll @dolletebun @milamilkie @ch6rm

[heestoleurgirl]

nishimura riki 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which you underestimate how clingy your boyfriend actually is, he loves cuddling and kissing you sm :(

genre: FLUFF, fluff and more fluff pairing: bf!riki x fem!reader wc: 1.4k

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

it wasn't your first time sleeping over at riki's place. at this stage in your relationship it had become almost routine, you were able to walk around his apartment as if it were your own.

you were currently in the bathroom, just having finished showering. it wouldn't be unusual for you and riki to shower together, however he insisted on doing the dishes left over from dinner while you got the shower all to yourself.

the soft fabric of his shirt felt even better against your skin after you'd cleaned yourself. his smell immediately enveloped you, leaving your lips curled upwards in a smitten smile. why bring your own pjs when you could just wear his clothes? you hummed along to the faint song playing from your phone as you grabbed your toothbrush and got to work.

about a minute had passed, you were so immersed in brushing your teeth and listening to the music that you barely registered a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist slowly. your head shot up, only to see riki's tall frame hugging you through the mirror. his face was lazily buried in the crook of your neck, leaving stubborn strands of his hair to tickle your skin.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

"ki, i'm busy" you murmured, the words muffled with the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. you had to lean a bit more forward to reach the sink, since riki had pulled you flush against his chest.

"don't care, missed you" he hummed against your soft skin quietly, he loved how amazing and fresh you smelled after the shower.

you laughed softly in return, you were gone for a maximum of 20 minutes, plus you'd already spent the whole day together. yes, you knew your boyfriend was clingy but somehow it never ceased to surprise you. was this the same man that acted cool and closed off around his friends? you rolled your eyes in endearment, and you knew he'd probably start complaining if he saw it. not like you minded it one bit, you thought his soft demeanour was absolutely adorable. (you don't tell him that, he hates being called cute)

riki tugged at your waist gently, urging you to hurry up without words. "c'mon, stop being impatient" you scoffed and smiled, though he was too busy to listen, distracting himself by kissing your shoulder and neck softly.

the toothbrush was discarded in favour of your skincare products. riki's ears perked up at the sound, finally drawing his attention to what you were doing. his face turned from hopeful to disappointed, were you seriously planning on making him wait even more by putting stupid stuff on your face? not on his watch.

you reached for the first product, but your hand never made it. you let out a surprised yelp as riki picked you up in one swift motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing.

"riki!" you whined in protest, though you knew it was no use. you watched helplessly as he grabbed your phone and strolled out of the bathroom like it was the most normal thing ever. "i need to do my skincare! put me down." you tried sounding firm and strict, but failed comically.

"nah" his grip on your bare thighs was firm, before he practically threw you in his bed. riki didn't waste a second, he climbed in next to you and yanked you against his own body, knowing you might try to escape to finish your nightly routine.

his arms snaked around your waist once again, tight enough that there was no chance of you escaping from him, but also mindful not to hurt you. you groaned, feeling a little irritated that you wouldn't be able to finish your skincare. though it was impossible to stay mad when you looked down and saw your boyfriend cuddling you like you were a damn teddy bear. his long ass legs were now tangled with yours too.

"you're so annoying..." you murmured quietly, your voice lacking any real conviction. the words contrasted with your actions completely as you wrapped your arms around his neck and idly played with strands of his hair.

riki felt like he was in heaven. if it were up to him, you would never leave his bed ever again. he loved the way your small body fit perfectly against his, as if you were made just for him. your skin was soft and warm, making you his personal heater. he could feel every soft rise and fall of your chest, along with the faint sound of your heartbeat.

his hands began to wander mindlessly, slipping under your shirt (his shirt to be precise) to caress the bare skin there. you shivered slightly when you felt his feather light fingers trail down your spine, moving over the curve of your backside and stopping at your thighs to rub them gently.

your unfinished skincare was long forgotten now, all you could focus on was how good his touches felt. it was as if you could feel the love and care behind every single one, even when he was so tired and quiet. you thought your heart might burst from the amount of affection you had for him in this moment.

riki groaned softly when your fingers involuntary tightened in his hair. you removed your hands from his dark locks and cupped his face instead, gently pulling his face up so you could look at him. his messy bangs covered his eyes, but they seemed to be extra round right now as he looked up at you adoringly.

you were no expert on feelings but the look in his eyes made your stomach churn with a sudden rush of butterflies, you swore you could see hearts in his eyes. for a moment you were breathless, just staring at his pretty face.

he slowly inched closer, taking advantage of your distracted state to press his pink lips against yours gently. no matter how many times you kissed, it always made your heart race and your brain feel all fuzzy. his cheeks were warm and soft under your fingers, and time seemed to stop completely around you two.

you weren't sure how much time had passed as you were completely tangled against him, your lips moving each other leisurely. riki's hands wondered yet again, trying to caress and touch as much of your skin as he could, he absolutely adored every inch of you. every time you pulled away a bit for air, he would wait a second at most before diving right back in. the action made you smile against his lips, making your heart beat fast yet again.

minutes later, he pulled away and switched to pressing soft kisses across your face. your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, he didn't leave anything without a gentle smooch. you couldn't help the dumb smile that was plastered on your face, you closed your eyes and quietly let him do as he pleased. one of your hands detached from his cheek to once again stroke his hair.

riki opted to leaning back a little to appreciate your cute face, a faint blush visible on your cheeks. he poked your side lightly to get your attention, making you open and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "what?"

"nothing. you look pretty." he smirked, hoping to see you become even more flustered, he loved having that effect on you. knowing you were just as affected by him as he was by you.

seeing his smirk, you decided to tease him a little. "i'm gonna go finish my skincare." you announced abruptly and shifted, moving out of his arms as if you were actually about to leave the bed. to nobody's surprise, riki immediately pushed himself up and tugged you right back against him.

"you're not going anywhere, don't even try to leave." he playfully glared at you and pulled you so you were laying under him, caged between his arms.

before you could tease him further, he laid directly on top of you, crushing you with his weight. you let out a groan/laugh and nudged his shoulder, but he wouldn't budge.

"ki! i can't breathe!" you whined, wriggling under him in an attempt to get him to move. unfortunately for you, riki made absolutely no effort to get off you.

"looks like you're having a seizure, i might need to give you mouth to mouth so you don't die." he smirked yet again, and leaned down to kiss you before you could protest or complain.

safe to say, you didn't do your skincare that night. though, feeling his lips against yours was a damn good alternative.

[earthtooz]

phainon x gn!scholar reader, phainon is so in love and reader is oblivious

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

The moment Phainon’s eyes first met yours, there was a stutter in his heart, an indescribable feeling of reverence coupled with curiosity creeped into his being when he first met you.

Beautiful. That was the only word he knew at the time.

Your beauty was unparalleled, unmatched as you saunter into his view, mind not exactly present in the moment as your clothes swayed with your every hurried step. Your eyes were foggy, a testament to your dedication and work, evidenced by the tablet you held snug to your side.

He decides in that moment that he wants to know you, so he purposefully sets himself in your line of movement and waits for the moment when you bump into him, far too focused in a world that wasn’t the one you were presently in. Fate decided to be kind to him when you fall right into his schemes, allowing him to catch you with an arm secured around your waist, your tablet falling to the stone pavement with a dull smack.

“Oh my!” you exclaim. “My utmost apologies, I was not aware of where I was going-”

He smiles, for the last thing he was thinking of was your apology. Even your voice is beautiful, the words flowing into his ears like warm ichor.

“It’s alright,” he reassures with that smile of his, almost faltering when his heart skips another beat the moment your eyes flit to look at his. Phainon thinks he’s going to collapse to his knees if you glance away. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me your name.”

Unaware of his flirtatious intentions, you sound out the syllables of your name and he repeats it with much wonder. “What a lovely name. I’m Phainon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

It’s been two years since he first met you, and you are still just as enchanting.

He learns you are a widely renowned scholar and author, which explains the tablet you held that day. Of course, you were shocked the moment he uttered his name, for the titles of the Chrysos Heirs were well known, essentially common knowledge for those that flourished in the world of academia. Phainon still cherishes the memory of your expression, keeping it in the back of his mind and musing over it in private.

If you had known he was holding that over you, you would have thrown a slew of unpretty words at him with that pretty voice of yours, and he would have cherished them the same way he does with all of your works.

Whenever Phainon hears that your most recent novel has been released, he is one of the first to scour for it, reading it from start to finish within days. Even your publications from years before have a place on his shelves, there is no book of yours that he has not purchased and proceeded to read from front to back.

He insists on meeting you whenever he can, and while you answer a question he asked, he’s trying to keep his marvelling to a minimum, trying to keep these feelings from spilling all over you as he lets you know that his undivided attention is on you.

You’re skeptical of him. You wonder why he seeks your companionship specifically, what about you entertained him enough to invite you on market walks, buy your favourite drink from your favourite stall, and then sit on a marble bench in a quiet park underneath falling leaves.

As you’re busy pondering, he jolts whenever your thigh brushes against his.

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

His favourite time to admire you is when you’re deep in thought and unaware of the world around you, too focused on the wax tablet that sits on your desk.

Despite the practicality of papers, you tell him you like the sensation of writing on wax, how your pen glides along, all of your bursts of inspiration occur like this, so they hold a dear place in your heart. Soft chatter is exchanged, he tells you about his day, you share some idle musings about yours, then you let him know of the most recent developments of your work before he lets you write in peace.

Phainon tries not to stare too much, knows it’s unbecoming to do so, but he can’t help letting his eyes linger on you as your hand scrawls, occasionally taking a break here and there but never letting the train of thought end without it being recorded.

He could watch forever. He could be here forever, sitting in a comfortable chaise in the corner of your study, rendering himself invisible in your periphery as he just gets to exist with you.

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

It’s not widely known, perhaps less than a handful of people know, and it’s not because he has confessed it to them outright, but because they have caught on to the subtleties.

The company he surrounds himself with knows well enough about the scholar that has caught his heart, and how he refuses to run away. They give him teasing looks now and then whenever the prospect of romance and love is raised, and glance specifically at the light-haired when your name is mentioned in passing, not wanting to miss the softening of his bright gaze.

It’s even more entertaining because you are not aware of it.

You are not aware of Phainon’s awestruck eyes whenever he looks at you, how he leans closer whenever you speak, desperate to close the gap however he can. You are not aware of how he speaks your name so gently, as if wanting the wind to take the words away and to you so that no one else may hear. You are not aware of the little world Phainon lives in where it’s just you and him, existing together.

The rest of the Chrysos Heir hound after him relentlessly when they first discovered of your ignorance to his feelings, and now they make it their life mission to make fun of him for it, especially before you.

Phainon does not mind, well- tries not to, because he is in love.

As infuriating it is that you haven’t caught on, despite your immense intelligence, he waits patiently for the day you will.

Even though he yearns to declare it from the highest point of Amphoreus, that his very being has been seized by you, he is content with the quiet moments you share now, and he will happily take all that you give him, even if he wants more.

Phainon is in love.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[pucksandpower]

Nothing to Prove

Charles Leclerc x Vettel!Reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time — every female sports fan has been told to “prove” her fandom at least once in her life — but the man quizzing you quickly learns the error of his ways

The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the bustling paddock, your destination the familiar red and white of the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with pre-race excitement, mechanics and team personnel darting about like worker bees in a particularly colorful hive.

You’re so focused on navigating the crowd that you almost don’t notice the young man who steps directly into your path, phone held aloft. His grin is a touch too smug for comfort.

“Excuse me, miss,” he says, voice dripping with false politeness. “Mind if I ask you a few questions for my TikTok?”

You hesitate, torn between ingrained courtesy and a gnawing sense of unease. “I’m actually in a bit of a hurry-”

“It’ll only take a minute,” he insists, already hitting record. “So, tell me, what’s your favorite thing about Formula 1?”

The question seems innocent enough, but there’s something in his tone that sets your teeth on edge. Still, you decide to play along for now. “Well, I love the strategy, the technology, the way the whole sport pushes the boundaries of what’s possible-”

He cuts you off with a laugh. “Come on, be honest. It’s the hot drivers, right? That’s why most girls watch.”

You blink, momentarily stunned by his blatant misogyny. “Excuse me?”

“No judgment!” He says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it, they’re all rich and fit. But let’s see how much you really know. Who won the 1976 World Championship?”

You open your mouth to answer, but he barrels on.

“What’s the difference between understeer and oversteer? How many points do you get for fastest lap? Come on, if you’re a real fan, this should be easy!”

Your initial discomfort has morphed into full-blown anger. “Look, I don’t have to prove anything to you. My knowledge of the sport isn’t-”

“Ah, so you can’t answer,” he says, triumphant. “Just as I thought. Another pretty face here for the-”

“Is there a problem here?”

The smooth voice comes from just behind you, followed by the warmth of a familiar body pressing against your back. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively lean into the embrace.

The TikToker’s eyes go wide as saucers as he takes in the newcomer. “You’re ... you’re ...”

“Charles Leclerc,” your boyfriend finishes for him, voice deceptively mild. “And you are ...”

The young man sputters, clearly thrown off his game. “I’m ... I mean... I was just asking your girl here some questions about F1.”

Charles’ arms tighten fractionally around you. “Is that so? Because from where I was standing, it sounded more like an interrogation.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting Charles’ gaze. His green eyes are blazing with a protective fury that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s fine,” you murmur. “He was just leaving.”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the TikToker, who’s looking increasingly desperate to be anywhere else. “You heard the lady.”

But the young man, perhaps realizing his video is about to become internet gold, rallies. “Wait! I mean, no offense, but how do we know she’s not just with you for the fame? Can she even name your teammate?”

You feel Charles tense behind you, but before he can speak, you’ve had enough. You step out of his embrace, squaring up to the TikToker.

“Carlos Sainz Jr.,” you say, voice hard. “Currently P4 in the championship. And since you’re so keen on quizzing people, James Hunt won in ‘76, understeer is when the front of the car doesn’t turn enough while oversteer is when the rear steps out too much, and you get one point for fastest lap if you finish in the top ten. Any other burning questions?”

The TikToker gapes at you, clearly unprepared for this turn of events. Charles, for his part, looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

“I ... but ...” the young man stammers.

You press on, building up a head of steam. “Oh, and fun fact — my brother has four World Championships. But I’m sure you knew that, being such an expert and all.”

The TikToker’s face drains of color as realization dawns. “Your brother? You’re Sebastian Vettel’s sister?”

Charles can’t contain his amusement any longer. He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I tried to warn you. You’ve awakened the beast.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re not helping.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Far be it from me to interfere with your righteous fury. Please, continue.”

The TikToker looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “I ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“That women can be genuine fans?” You interrupt. “That we might actually understand and love the sport for its own sake? Or just that you shouldn’t make assumptions about people based on their gender?”

He winces. “All of the above?”

Charles steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch is gentle, but there’s steel in his voice when he speaks. “I think it’s time for you to go. And delete that video while you’re at it.”

The young man nods frantically, fumbling with his phone. In his haste to retreat, he trips over his own feet, sprawling ungracefully on the ground. Charles moves to help him up, ever the gentleman, but you put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Let him sort himself out,” you mutter. “A little humiliation might do him some good.”

Charles chuckles, pulling you close. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

As the TikToker scrambles away, face burning with embarrassment, you allow yourself to relax into Charles’ embrace. The adrenaline of the confrontation leaves you feeling a bit shaky.

“You okay?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nod, letting out a long breath. “Yeah. Just ... frustrated. Why do people still think like that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. It’s not fair, the assumptions people make.”

“It’s not just about me,” you say, turning to face him fully. “It’s about all the female fans out there who get treated like this. Who get quizzed and belittled and have their passion questioned at every turn.”

Charles nods, his expression serious. “You’re right. It’s a bigger problem than just one idiot with a TikTok account.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it will ever change,” you admit, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

Charles cups your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. “It will,” he says with conviction. “Because of people like you who stand up and call it out. Who refuse to let ignorance go unchallenged.”

You lean into his touch, allowing yourself a small smile. “When did you get so wise?”

He grins, some of his usual playfulness returning. “I have my moments. Don’t tell anyone though, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

You laugh, the tension finally starting to dissipate. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Charles leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmurs. “The way you handled that ... it was impressive.”

“Yeah?” You ask, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

“Absolutely,” he says firmly. “You were brilliant. Fierce. Passionate.” His voice drops lower, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Incredibly sexy.”

You swat his arm playfully. “Behave yourself, Leclerc. We’re in public.”

He affects an innocent expression that doesn’t fool you for a second. “I’m always on my best behavior.”

You snort. “That’s what worries me.”

Charles laughs, the sound bright and carefree. It never fails to make your heart soar. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Come on, let’s get to the motorhome. I think we both could use a moment of peace before the craziness really begins.”

As you walk hand in hand through the paddock, you can’t help but reflect on the incident. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth, but there’s also a spark of hope. Because for every misogynistic TikToker, there are countless fans — of all backgrounds — who love the sport for what it is. Who appreciate the skill, the strategy, the sheer spectacle of it all.

And maybe, just maybe, standing up to ignorance one interaction at a time is how change really happens.

Charles squeezes your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

You smile, leaning into him slightly as you walk. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. To be here, doing what I love. To have people in my life who support me and believe in me.”

He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “The luck goes both ways, mon cœur. You make me better, on and off the track.”

As you approach the Ferrari motorhome, its bright red a beacon in the sea of team colors, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. There will always be challenges, always be those who try to tear others down. But with love, determination, and a refusal to back down from what’s right, anything is possible.

Even changing the world of Formula 1, one small interaction at a time.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE *  inspired by this post. these don't have to be romantic - you can specify romantic or not when you send them. in essence, these are simply intimate, affectionate moments to share with someone you love and care about. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder

[ shop ] sender and receiver go to the grocery store together

[ brush ] sender brushes receiver's hair

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind

[ zip up ] sender assists receiver with zipping up a piece of clothing

[ unzip ] sender assists receiver with unzipping a piece of clothing

[ shoelaces ] sender bends down to tie receiver's shoelaces

[ swipe ] sender notices a smudge of something on receiver's face and gently wipes it off

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair

[ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders

[ puddle ] sender hurries to stop receiver from stepping into a puddle

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

[ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

[ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together

[ feed ] sender allows receiver to try a bite of their dish, holding their fork out for receiver to taste

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them

[ makeup ] sender fixes receiver's makeup for them

[ bathroom ] sender and receiver go to a public restroom together and have a normal conversation in between the stalls

[ aloud ] sender reads aloud to receiver

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

[ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

[ listen ] sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about

[ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house

[ hum ] sender hums along to a song receiver is singing

[ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

[ admire ] sender stares at receiver across a room, silently admiring and appreciating them from afar

[ win ] sender lets receiver beat them in a game

[ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

[ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face

[ clean ] sender helps bathe receiver

[ wash ] sender helps receiver wash their hair

[ patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds

[miniimight]

"S'NOT MY BIRTHDAY..." silly girl, thinking you need an occasion in order to be spoiled by them!

with gojo, nanami x fem!reader

notes trying out this writing thing again lol

in previous relationships, you had to deal with the bare minimum. a generic greeting card on valentine's day, a bunch of snacks for your birthday, and a necklace for christmas because 'that's what girls like, right?'

now, with him, it's different. he has no qualms about getting you anything your eyes linger on, no matter the price. he had so much money, he picked things up and swiped his card without so much as a glance at the cost. it baffled you sometimes.

it happened was early on in your relationship. you then quickly learned to just sit back and let him spoil you!!

GOJO

satoru's fingers were laced with yours as he swung your connected arms between you. he inhaled deeply, looking up at the high ceiling of the mall. "today's a good a day as any to throw some cash, don't you think baby?"

you giggle and squeeze his hand. "one or two things should be okay." that's what you budgeted for, anyway.

he rolled his eyes, scolding you for your tiny imagination before allowing you to pull him along to your favorite stores.

it wasn't long before your eyes spotted the store you loved but couldn't afford. your stare was glued to the window display, all the cute tops and pants and bags and shoes and bracelets and...

when he felt your steps slow, satoru glanced at you. you were laser focused on the clothing store—naturally, he sharply turned towards it.

"hey!" you squeaked at the sudden change of direction, and you hurried to match his pace again. "toru??"

"i saw you looking, baby, why didn't you just say you wanted to check it out?" he teased.

you looked over to the side, embarrassed. "i... i don't wanna tempt myself, cus i know i'll gaslight myself into buying something."

he narrowed his eyes, not in scorn but in confusion. "who said you were buying anything?"

"huh?" you chirped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

gojo stared blankly at you. you really were adorable, thinking he wouldn't spend his last dime on whatever you wanted, regardless of how trivial it was. a smile pulled at his lips.

"my sweet girl," he cooed. "my sweet, slow girl..."

you gasped indignantly and poked satoru's side, earning a giggle from him. "slow?!"

"obviously, i'll by whatever you want, silly." he tugged you towards the entrance of the store.

"but..." you resisted his pull. "it's not my birthday or anything..."

huh? he pouted. "as if i need a special reason to get you stuff."

"but..." heat creeped up your neck as you reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of being spoiled. something inside you told you that he was just being nice and was waiting for you to shut him down, save him the expenses. "it's not fair, is it? i didn't get you anything so far..."

his face fell slightly as he pulled you away from the busy traffic of the moving crowds. satoru pulled your chin up to face him. "i dunno what's running through that pretty head of yours, but answer me this, okay?"

you nod.

"you want it?" he gestured towards the store.

you hesitated, eyes straying from his face. he quickly squished your cheeks, causing your eyes to widen and snap to his. "—!"

"don't overthink it, pretty girl, just tell me."

"yesfh." you answer dejectedly, muffled against his hands.

"then you'll have it." he told you. "i want you to have anything and everything you say you want. i wanna buy it for you. and being able to hear you say 'my boyfriend got this for me' is all i need in return." he grinned cheekily.

you pouted, looking unbelievably cute in his eyes. he despises the partners of your past for leading you astray, thinking you needed to do something special in order to be appreciated. don't worry, he'll fix that in no time.

he pecked your pursed lips before hugging you. "okay?"

you giggle. "okay."

"yay!! now let's go!!"

by the end of the day, he had to call ichiji to help carry all the bags to the car. he was so proud of you!

NANAMI

kento was your shadow as you glided through the store, picking up things and setting them down.

"oh, this is so cute!" you squealed holding up a tee for him to see.

he smiled, more because of your excited expression than the t-shirt. "it is. you should get it."

you hummed, in thought. your hands drifted over the material, picking up the tag before inhaling sharply. "nah, another time."

he frowned. you'd done this at every store so far, picking up things you said you liked but leaving them behind. he was bewildered. "but... you like it, do you not?"

you winced, hoping this topic wouldn't come up. "i do! it's just the price. out of my budget, you know?" you said, trying to be light. you burned with discomfort. might as well just say you're poor.

kento frowned. "oh..."

"yeah."

you quickly turned away, avoiding the confused look on his face.

"y/n." he called you.

"...yes?" you glanced behind you, seeing him standing over the shirts.

"are you under the impression that you would be paying?" he asked.

you blinked. "oh?" yes, you were, but you were surprised to learn that he had the opposite understanding. "well... yeah."

he frowned, disappointed with himself. "i'm sorry. i didn't intend to make you feel that way."

you stepped closer, rubbing his arm soothingly. "what are you talking about?" you laughed softly. "you didn't make me feel any kind of way. i'm not upset, if that's what you're getting at. i never expected you to spend your money on me."

his frown only deepened. oh, how he has failed. "why not?"

you faltered. how did you manage to make it worse? "i'm not sure i understand..."

kento shook his head. "have you been thinking you'd be using your own money for purchases? this whole time?"

"um..."

"sweetheart, i'm paying. for everything, at all times." he refused to hear anything else, cutting you off when you opened your mouth to retort. "we'll have to circle back to the stores we previously visited."

it was your turn to frown. "kento, it won't be my birthday for a few months! you don't have to get me anything right now."

"what does your birthday have to do with anything?" he asked, genuinely confused. "i don't mean to interrogate you, my love, but i think i am the one who doesn't understand."

"you'd get me anything i asked for?" you shoot back, spelling it out for him. "for no reason?"

"for one reason," he replied. "simply because you want it. it'd make you happy."

warmth spread across your face. "that's two reasons." you mumbled.

he clicked his tongue, exacerbating your bashfulness when he pulled you into his side. he kissed your forehead. "you make me laugh, y/n. i was so confused as to why you weren't getting anything. surely that's not how you usually shop."

he bought that shirt for you, as well as the many things you thought were cute at all the stores you stepped foot in. now, you shop without any hesitations.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3