#but it still washes over me whenever I post something.

[measuredingold]

my soul is useless without you

author's note: part two to i'd walk through hell for you is finally here ! i'm not sure if i want to do a third part, but we’ll see lol but i'm currently working on something for folio 👀 as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! also, if yall have any requests, send them my way :) i'm in the mood to write but inspiration is running thin lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.5k

cross posted on ao3 / part one

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings But A Good Friend, reader is going through it, anxiety, hints/mentions of depression, noah is just a good guy and cares about reader a lot ( more than he realizes ), friends to lovers pining lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It's when Jolly asks Noah in-between takes if he'd heard from you recently that the anxiety finally settles in.

Because he doesn't know the last time he's heard from you. Which isn't normal.

He's a bad texter, notorious for looking at messages and making a note to reply to them later or replying in his mind, but he always makes sure to reply to you whenever the two of you aren't together. It's just always been a thing, to always have some form of communication with you when he wasn't over at yours or if you weren't at his, so it panics him when he can't remember the last time he'd spoken to you.

He goes through your messages and finds that it wasn't him this time who didn't respond, but instead it was you. Relief washes over him briefly, the guilt of forgetting to respond to his best friend vanishing, but then that anxiety comes back full force. 

You didn't respond.

You always responded.

He sends off a quick message to you, apologizing for being in studio mode and not leaving the house and asks if you're alright. He waits. They go through another take, he somehow doesn't fuck it up even though his mind isn't all the way there. You still haven't responded by the fifth take and that's when he starts to feel sick, stomach twisting with the worry of what could be wrong. 

He tries to think back to if you've ever gone this long without speaking and he can't think of a time when that has happened. 

"Earth to Noah." Jolly's voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." 

"All good, man." His bandmate eyes him for a second before his eyes flicker towards his phone. "She respond?"

"Um. No." His brows furrowed as he stared at his phone, the black screen mocking him. "Kind of worried."

"Yeah... I am, too." Jolly murmurs. He clicks around on the screen a few times before twisting his chair around to fully face Noah, arms crossing over his chest. "You should go over there. Check and make sure she's alright."

Noah raises a brow at him. "We're in the middle of recording?"

"And?" Jolly shrugs, waving him off. "We got a lot done today, we can wrap it up. Something's obviously wrong and she might need you. That's more important than some song."

He blinks at his friend, letting his words settle in. Jolly's right, he thinks. You are more important than whatever song they're working on. That confirmation makes him feel funny, something tightening beneath his chest but he ignores it, nodding slowly. 

"Okay. You wanna come?"

Jolly shakes his head. "Nah. The both of us might be overwhelming. If you do need me then call, if not..." He shrugs again before lifting himself up out of his chair, groaning softly to himself, "...might be best for just you to go. She'd probably feel better if it's just you, anyways. You know how she is."

Noah isn't quite sure what he means, but nods along anyways. He checks his phone again and still no text, but he notices that you read the message. He should feel relieved at the sign of life but it only makes his anxiety worse, stomach twisting violently. 

"Okay. I'll text you when I get there." 

He's practically running out of the studio after that, the only thing on his mind was you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Deep down he knew that if this was him, you would've already been here, and he feels guilty all over again. He should've paid more attention, shouldn't have let this slip his mind so easily. He thinks back to your last messages together and how you were talking about your work day, overwhelmed and quite frankly, upset about it all. He should've paid closer attention.

He makes it to yours in record time, legs moving him to the door before he can even think about it. He sends up a quiet prayer to the universe that you had given him an extra key months ago and uses it to unlock the door, slowly pushing it open.

He calls out your name, but no answer.

His eyes sweep over your apartment as he enters, scanning the open space. Your kitchen looked untouched, minus the few dirty dishes that were in your sink. A few boxes of Chinese take-out and some bottles of water. He feels almost relieved. You'd been eating and as far as he can tell you'd been keeping yourself somewhat hydrated, so that was a plus. He knows how bad you can be when you get into this headspace - brain fog, forgetting to do basic things like eating and drinking water. But this... this is a step in the right direction.

His eyes move towards the living room and it's just about the same. A pile of blankets lay together at one end of the couch, pillows scattered along the length of the cushions. You'd been there quite a bit, he can tell, but other than that nothing was too bad.

Noah feels like he can breathe for just a second, eyes going straight to the cracked open door to your bedroom. He hears the faint hum of your television and hears the muffled voice of your favorite characters in your favorite comfort show. His chest tightens. You only ever watch it when things get bad inside your head, when things start to become too overwhelming and you need to cling onto something that you know. Something that won't throw any surprises at you and make things worse. 

He makes his way towards your room, ready to call out your name again as he pushes open your door but stops halfway. You're curled up in your bed, covered in a pile of blankets. He steps closer to get a better look at you and he doesn't think he's ever seen you look so peaceful. Lashes against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted. The crease between your brows is relaxed, which never happens. 

Noah takes a deep breath.

You're alright. He can see that you're safe and sound, at least for now, and that's enough for him. He shuts your door behind him and makes his way back into the main room, taking his shoes off by the door. He takes another deep breath to center himself as he looks around your space, hand finding its way to his hair. 

He decides he'll clean up your kitchen and living room. It isn't too bad, and it won't take him too long. He also just... doesn't want to leave yet. He'll wait until you wake up. Make you talk to him, ask what’s up. Probably make you eat something. Then he'll head home. 

Sounds like a good plan to him.

Even though your door is shut he still tries to be quiet, making sure to carefully wash and put away your dishes without making too much of a fuss. After the dishes, he throws away all the take-out boxes and water bottles. He even makes a note to take the trash out for you when he's all done, because he knows you would've done it for him. 

The constant reminder of you and knowing that you'd do something like this for him, and have, is the motivation he needs to continue. It makes him feel warm all over and he thinks how lucky he is to have someone like you as his best friend.

And he definitely ignores the bitter taste in his mouth at the word best friend. 

It's maybe an hour after he's finished, curled up on your couch that now has its pillows in place, and the pile of blankets are neatly folded and put away, that you finally emerge from your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, not noticing him on the couch at first, but when you do you make a noise of surprise that has Noah laughing.

"Hey."

He notices the slight flush of your cheeks but ignores it. "Hi?"

"I uh," He scratches the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile. "Hadn't talked to you in a few days. Got worried. So did Jolly. Told me to come over. Check on you. You were sleeping so I just," He throws his arms around, gesturing to the space around him, "cleaned up a little? Figured you would appreciate a clean house when you woke up so..." 

He's talking too much, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop the word vomit from coming out. Noah knows you wouldn't mind, but he was nervous, especially because all you do is stare at him without saying a word. Stare and stare and stare until you sniff, brows furrowing.

"...Thanks."

You're unusually quiet and it makes his stomach turn again. You sniff again and Noah swears you look like you're on the verge of tears, and he sits up on the couch. He watches you closely as you wring your hands together in front of you, mouth opening and closing as if you want to say something. You don't, and Noah catches the exact moment when your bottom lip trembles, and he's moving before he can even think about it.

"Hey. It's okay. You’re okay."

He tries to keep his voice soft and free of any panic, but his heart is beating so rapidly against his chest he swears you can hear it. You sniff again, head shaking as your lip continues to tremble and he does the only thing he can think of. He pulls you into his arms and presses you into his chest. You don't move for a second, but eventually your arms circle around his waist. You squeeze, tight, but he doesn't mind. He just squeezes you back. 

Your body begins to shake as the cries start to rack through you, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Noah swallows down the lump that was beginning to form, cheek resting on the top of your head. He's always hated when you cry. He himself wasn’t one for much display of emotions, but when it came to the people he cared about, he hated seeing them anything but happy. 

Especially you.

He's seen you cry a few times. Well, more than a few times. Sometimes it was over nothing, and then sometimes it was over an incredibly cute dog you'd seen scrolling on Twitter. He didn't mind those, but when it was over something serious, he fucking hated that. He never wanted you to be anything but happy, and whenever you weren’t, it’s like a piece of him breaks. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers into your hair, trying to pull you even closer to him.

“Everything.” You eventually mumble against his chest, sucking in a deep breath as you try to control your tears. “Fucking everything is wrong.” 

He fucking hates the way that answer makes him feel. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swears his heart just fucking broke at how sad you sounded, voice muffled by his shirt. He squeezes you to his chest again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wants you to talk about it, to tell him what's wrong so he can make it better. Noah knows it'll probably be damn near impossible to even do that, but god, he'd try absolutely anything to make your tears stop. You take a long moment to respond, trying to control your breathing, before you eventually shake your head against his chest.

"Not right now." 

"Okay.” He mumbles, raising a hand to smooth down your hair. “That's okay, we don't have to."

"Thank you."

You stay like that for a moment, in the middle of your living room. Noah doesn't plan on letting go any time soon, thinking for a split second that he wished he could keep you in his arms forever. If you were there, he'd always know if you were okay. The thought fades before he could think too hard about it when you finally pull away from him, and Noah catches sight of your slight red and blotchy face. He frowns.

He doesn't remember the last time he's ever seen you so sad. So defeated. Whatever was going on really pained you, and he wishes you'd just tell him so he can fix it. Another passing, fleeting thought, but he thinks he'd do just about anything right now to see you smile again. 

"Have you eaten?" He breaks the silence between the two of you, not waiting to hear whatever you were planning on saying.

You blink up at him. "Um... no. Not since this morning. Had some fruit and coffee." 

"I figured." He guides you towards the couch, practically pushing you onto it. You snort when he grabs a throw blanket and dumps it onto you. "Pick something to watch." 

It's not a question, but more of a command, and Noah ignores the way his chest flutters at the small smile you give him. He turned away from you, pushing whatever feeling was brewing inside of him so far down and got his brain to focus. Food. You need food. To be honest, so does he. He’d been so worried about you for the last few hours that he didn’t even think of getting something to eat. 

It takes him a few minutes of rummaging around your kitchen to settle on making something easy - instant ramen. He’s surprised you hadn't eaten it all in the week you’ve been off-grid, but thankful nonetheless. Noah's way too impatient to wait any longer to actually cook something, especially knowing you hadn't eaten anything since this morning. Every so often he looked over his shoulder to watch you, wishing you'd say something, but would find you either staring blankly at the television or your phone.

A bitter taste settles in the back of his throat every time he turns back around to the stove. He hated this, and he fucking hated that he couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

He brings your bowl to you once he's finished, already making a mental note to clean up the mess he had made while cooking. You blink up at him and reach for it, giving him a quiet, "Thank you."

Noah doesn't verbally say anything, just hums out a response as he ventures back into the kitchen to grab you something to drink. When he comes back he notices you had slowly begun to eat, and he feels his shoulders finally relax. Just knowing you ate something eases him, the tension in his body leaving him completely. You're already reaching out for the glass of water in his hand that he happily hands off to you, giving you a gentle smile.

"Need anything else?"

You shake your head, peering up at him. "No. Just want you to come sit with me." 

That same fluttery feeling beneath his chest returns and he wishes he could ignore it again, but it doesn't go away. No, it stays perched underneath his chest, as if it's decided that it's making a home there and never leaving. He doesn't say anything, just nods at your request before grabbing his own bowl and a Pepsi you had in the fridge before making his way back to you.

You wait until he's settled on the couch to scoot closer to him, legs pressed flushed together. You're already halfway through your ramen and for a split second he forgets that weird feeling in his chest, instead focusing on the intense pride filling him. He was able to get you to eat, he was able to help out in some way. Knowing you were alright for the most part and it was from his doing made him feel good.

The both of you eat in silence as whatever show you decided to put on plays in the background. He’s just now realized it was The Office, and he huffs out a small laugh at something Michael Scott said. Another one of your comfort shows, something easy. 

It isn't until you both are finished with your food and Noah's back in the kitchen cleaning up that you finally speak. He doesn't hear you come up behind him, focused on washing the dishes and making sure everything's clean and good to go, so he can't help but jump when he feels your arms slip around his waist and squeeze.

"Shit." He swears, followed by a breathy chuckle. "You scared me."

You don't say anything to that, just squeeze him harder and he feels you press your face against his back. Then ever so softly, he picks up the faintest, "Thank you," muffled against his back. His face flushes, eyes casting down to the soapy water his hands were currently submerged in. He's glad you can't see the blush on his cheeks, and he fucking hopes you can't hear the way his heart is pounding beneath his chest. Can probably feel it, though, and that makes his face burn even more. 

"For what?" He manages to mumble out, resuming his efforts. Your arms squeeze his waist again.

"For being here." You sound so small. "You don't have to be, but you are, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"You'd do it for me." His response comes easily, voice nonchalant because it's true. He knows you'd do the same for him, and the thought has his stomach flipping every which way. "And have done it for me. It's the least I can do."

You're silent after that but don't part from him, and Noah can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at the feeling of you rubbing your face against him. It makes him feel warm all over, and that damned fluttery feeling in his chest is back yet again. You stay like that until he's finished with the dishes, moving with him as he shuffles to the side to dry them off. You don't pick your head up even when he manages to turn in your arms, finally facing you. 

Noah's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and now you can rub your face against his chest. He laughs softly, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Still don't wanna talk about it?" He knows he's pressing but he can't help it, a part of him still needs to know what's wrong and how he can fix this for you.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Tomorrow, okay? I just... don't wanna think about it tonight."

"Okay." He thinks he can handle that. 

"Thank you." You say again and finally lift your head up from his chest, blinking up at him. There's still a sadness there, roaming around behind your eyes, but not as prevalent as it was earlier. He’s at least done something right. "I'm really fucking lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

The way you're looking up at him is overwhelming, Noah's throat tightening at the softness surrounding your tired eyes. You smile at him and this time it reaches your gaze, not faked but real, and his heart slams against his chest. A thought passes his mind again, something he hasn't thought of in years, and he pushes it back with a hard swallow.

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to do the dishes."

You roll your eyes but that smile never drops from your lips, and Noah thinks he'd like to keep you smiling like that for the rest of his life. 

"Shut up. I'm being serious." You're giggling now, eyes crinkling and he catches a glimpse of the real you for the first time in hours - probably days, weeks even. 

"So am I." Noah yelps when you pinch his side, your laughter growing louder. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to be nice here, asshole. You can at least try, too."

He softens at that, eyes meeting yours. He's well aware his face is on fire right now, cheeks pink.

"You already know I'm lucky to have you. Didn't realize I had to say it."

Even if he doesn't say it often, he is very lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in his life, for sticking by him and for understanding him. For always being patient with him. Jolly reminds him occasionally how lucky he is to have you, how all of them are lucky to have someone like you in their lives. He doesn't know what the fuck he or anyone did to be so deserving of you, but dammit, he's fucking thankful for it everyday. 

You don't say anything, just continue to beam up at him and Noah can't seem to stop himself, tilting his head down to brush his lips against your forehead. He feels you press further into his chest, if it was even possible, and practically melt in his arms. 

He wishes he could keep you here forever, tucked away in his arms. He thinks there isn't much he wouldn't do to keep you safe, to make sure you were okay, and that thought alone scares him. He'd never admit it, at least not out loud, and he tucks that thought away for another time. Or to possibly be never thought of again, he doesn't know. He doesn't really care.

No, all he cares about right now is that you're okay, at least for now, and that you're nestled against his chest like it's the only place you want to be. 

And that's enough for him. 

[museenkuss]

Spn blogs in my recs and they WILL NOT LEAVE.

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

Why do certain coworkers have to get you so annoyed with them without even trying, and they don't realize how annoying/obnoxious they are?? Or worse, they KNOW how annoying they are but don't seem to care cause they find it funny?

It's like the silence and neutral expressions aren't enough of a hint that I don't think you're funny and you should just stop while you still have your dignity...

Longer rant in the tags cause it's a lot.

[icequeenbae]

Initiation (m) | HHJ, YJI

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Jeongin

Werewolf AU, mates, PWP, fluff, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, threesome (duh), oral, mating, knotting, marking, some possessiveness if you squint (softdom!Hyunjin?)

Word Count: ~5k

Summary: You joined Chan’s pack a few months ago and it’s been great so far. But there’s been some frustration accumulating in you for a while that you couldn’t battle on your own. Thankfully, there are young wolves around ready to help you. And they might be even more willing to take care of you than you realize.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: Okay, I’m finally back with a new story!! I know I’ve been a bit absent lately, but that’s cz I’m writing a whole HHJ novel lmao Not even kidding, that one is gonna be sooo looonggg… But in the meantime, I decided yesterday that I needed to write something short and fun that I can share with you asap, and this happened! I was up till 7 or 8AM writing this, so huge thanks to @tusswrites for helping me edit this so quickly!! Anyways, this is my first Stray Kids story, so I really hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback~ Thank you, sweethearts <3

Network Tags: @kvanity-main  @ksmutsociety

You’d been feeling weird lately.

It was a feeling that washed over you from time to time, causing you discomfort, yet you still couldn’t place it. You tried to analyze the situation you were in when it appeared and figure out where it was coming from or what it was in general, but all your efforts were in vain. Something made you feel strange, and you didn’t know what or why.

It was definitely not the life with your new pack. You joined it 6 months ago after Chan’s vehement coaxing. You’d known him even before he became the alpha of his own pack, but after wandering around the world for several years and coming back to settle down, you found the citylife to be quite dangerous for a lone she-wolf. You didn’t want to admit that you needed protection as you were more than capable of fighting your own fights, but after being constantly harassed on the daily by cocky members of various local packs, you didn’t take much convincing. Chan was a good guy and a great laid-back leader, so you knew he didn’t offer this with any ulterior motive in mind. You’d have probably joined his pack even faster if not for one thing – it was full of men. And although you had no issues with young wolves with manners, being the only female wolf in the pack sounded questionable.

This made your mind blow up with questions and assumptions. What if they start harassing you as well? Chan would probably not allow that. What if they get overly possessive over you? You would probably not allow that either. What if you cannot handle living in the same space as them without any privacy? Well, you could always move back out… With the alpha’s permission.

Regardless of your reservations, Chan seemed relentless in his attempts to lure you in. You weren’t too surprised by that. There was a bond that alphas shared with their pack members. Whenever you meet your alpha, you feel like you are on the same wavelength. Some alphas are so in-tune with their current or potential packmates that they can even sense it when they meet their future mate. They do not know whose mate it is necessarily, but they can sense that it might be one. Not every alpha is capable of that though, although most of them can at least tell whether you are a good fit for their pack or not. Chan was quick to pass his judgement and inform you with all sincerity that you definitely belonged with his pack and had to trust his gut on this.

So, you did.

And you were completely stunned with the way it had turned out. You were guarded and cautious when you first joined. But the guys were actually so friendly and so welcoming that you felt at home mere days later. It was like they were your little brothers, whom you’d been living with your entire life. Sure, they were a bit awkward with you at first, but after the adaptation period was over, you were all set with your new family.

They took care of you, and you cared for them as well. You helped Minho and Yongbok cook dinner, bought art supplies for Hyunjin, scolded Changbin whenever he was too harsh on Han and helped them make up, looked after the maknaes and made sure they were not getting into trouble. You were also giving Chan a piece of your mind whenever he pulled all-nighters, too busy with his work, and then snapped at his poor pack members for interacting with him at the wrong time. At some point you managed to have him come back to his senses and remember to get at least 5 hours of sleep every night to prevent himself from turning into a wild beast.

Everything was going great until last week, when you finally noticed that the mood swings that bothered you for a few months now, were actually getting worse. You blamed it on the insomnia that you’d been suffering from lately. After all, you’d seen Chan becoming overly sensitive to everything after being sleep-deprived, but you had no idea what was making you so stressed. You had no issues within the pack, and your life outside was also pretty solid too. Now that you had your brothers around, no one was brave enough to walk up to you and challenge your bodily integrity unless they wanted to compromise their own. Despite you being older, your brothers took your protection seriously. When you joining the pack was not that widely known, there had been a few incidents that lead to physical altercations. And despite thinking that being told to sit down and let the boys handle this shit would make you angry, you actually felt giddy instead. They didn’t belittle your abilities in any way, but each and every one of them was the first in line to protect your honor. You appreciated their brotherly love towards you more than you’d care to admit. So much so, that you didn’t say anything to them, when their extensive protection made most wolves steer clear of you whenever they met you out and about.

And even as your behavior started to shift lately, they quickly picked up on that too. Yongbok and Changbin kept asking you if anything had happened. Minho made your favorite spicy pasta, which almost no one could handle apart from you two, and maybe Jeongin as well. Seungmin and Han tried to make you laugh with their silly antics. And yet, your bad mood did not lift for long.

Today you stayed home with Hyunjin, and he asked if you wanted to get some fresh air and join him on his way to a new art exhibition at the gallery downtown. You latched onto this opportunity to shake the dust off of yourself and maybe alter your mood with the help of this public outing, hoping that it might bring you some welcomed attention. With that in mind, you’d put a little too much effort into dressing up, which you realized only when your companion gave you a puzzled onceover. But when you asked if you looked inappropriate, he shook his head. Hyunjin wasn’t a man of many words most of the time, he only became talkative whenever he was drunk or simply in the mood for long chats. After a short ‘you look beautiful’ that made you feel a ping of this confusing emotional response inside you, he motioned for you to follow him outside.

However, after a few hours strutting from one installation to another in your incredibly unreasonable high heels, you became tired and capricious. To the point when you almost cried when Hyunjin sat you down on the bench outside one of the exhibition halls and disappeared for a few minutes, only to return with a pair of flat slippers. You whined that there was no way you would be seen next to him looking this ugly, and he hummed, crouching down in front of you and removing your shoes at once. He rummaged through his Versace bag and got a band-aid out, plastering it over an aching spot on your foot. While you were watching him, barely containing a shiver from the tickle of his breathing over your knee, he carefully inserted your feet into the slippers and grabbed your shoes in one hand, offering you to hold onto his arm. When you stood up, he couldn’t help but crack a dimpled smile, patting your head affectionately. After walking around in your insane high heels for hours, you now acutely felt how small you were next to him. It was a thought that made you flustered for no reason, so you frowned and made your way to the elevator, trying to seem like you were in a hurry to get back home.

A car ride home was unbearable. Your feelings were all over the place again. One moment you were grateful to Hyunjin for his attentiveness, the other you were mad at him for acting like your partner when he clearly wasn’t, and a second later you would be on the verge of crying for having no prospects of finding one either. Having no mate at your age was bothering you so much more than it should’ve, and at some point you managed to convince yourself that you didn’t care if you missed him earlier in life. Shit happens, you thought. Not everyone spent their lives with their mates, and even if you didn’t want to settle for less, at some point you might have to. And while considering this dreadful future, you had even decided that you would start going out with humans later. Dating a wolf who could very well meet their mate months or years down the line and becoming tossed to the side would be a traumatizing experience, so you vowed to avoid it at all costs. Even if your love life would be frowned upon by most other wolves, who did not consider humans to be valid partners.

These thoughts did not add positivity to your attitude, and by the time you came home, your mood was so sour that you barely acknowledged Jeongin in the living room, heading straight to the bathroom on your floor. You threw your clothes around as you got them off and removed your jewelry. Even wiping your makeup off was a chore that made you angry, so you stepped into the water almost boiling with frustration.

Taking an entire hour to finish your routine, you relocated to your room, throwing your pajamas on before crawling under the blanket. It was way too early to go to bed, but you hated the idea of being outside of your room when you had no grip on your emotions whatsoever. Snapping at your brothers, who were innocent in the matter, was not an option you were willing to explore. And it was not their fault that these thoughts and feelings suddenly came over you at random. So you stayed in, huffing and puffing for at least another half an hour, until you were interrupted by a knock on your door.

‘Can I come in?’ You heard Hyunjin ask from the other side of the door.

You didn’t want him to, but you also didn’t want to turn him away.

‘Come in.’

He slowly opened it, peeking inside before seeping fully into your room. His head cocked to the side as he took in your state.

‘Are you feeling well?’ He asked, approaching you carefully.

You shrugged, mumbling that you were fine. His nose twitched as he clearly checked if anything would be given away by your scent.

‘Are you sure?’ He asked, taking a seat on your bed.

It wasn’t unusual, the closeness he allowed himself, yet it made you even more unstable than you were before.

‘I don’t know, Jinnie.’ You whined, kicking the blanket up with one foot. ‘I’m a mess.’

He furrowed his thick dark eyebrows.

‘What do you mean?’

You pouted, feeling the frustration rise again.

‘I don’t know…’ You repeated, sounding like you were about to cry now.

On a whim, you scooted closer to him and threw yourself forward to hug him. Overcoming the initial shock, Hyunjin reciprocated with a tight embrace. His hands were gently patting your back, and it seemed like he had nothing against the physical contact.

‘I’m sorry,’ you muttered into his collarbone and tried to pry yourself away from him. ‘I know you don’t like skinship that much-’

‘Don’t worry about that, noona.’ He cut you off, dragging you back into himself.

You sat like that for a few minutes, and you calmed down a little, too focused on his heartbeat under your ear. There was also something else that you’d noticed.

‘Jinnie,’ you inhaled deeply. ‘You smell… nice.’

He froze, still holding you in his arms, and his Adam’s apple bobbing indicated that he was in a state of utter disarray.

‘What do you-’

The door into your room flew open, and Jeongin invited himself in.

‘Why are you making a cuddle nest without me? You know I am the best candidate to make you feel better, noona!’

He jumped on the bed, making you huff in amusement.

‘See? You’re already smiling.’ He wrapped his arms around your bicep and continued. ‘Let go of this hyung, I am all you need.’

Hyunjin raised his eyebrow, likely feeling competitive after this comment.

And for the next ten minutes, they were busy fighting for your attention.

‘It must’ve been you,’ Jeongin nagged at the older wolf. ‘She spent the whole day with you and came back angry. I am pretty sure…’

‘It’s not. I’ve been in a weird mood lately, that’s all.’

‘Oh?’ He perked up from your thigh, where he’d been resting his head. ‘Weird how? Don’t tell me-’

‘What?’ You and Hyunjin asked in unison.

‘Are you like… frustrated?’

‘I am,’ you nodded, misunderstanding his question.

‘You know what I mean? Like… sexually?’

At this, you opened your mouth, completely offended by the suggestion.

‘What the hell?’ You shoved him in the shoulder, trying to get him off of your thigh.

‘No, but that would be so great,’ he told you despite the commotion. ‘Because it’s not that hard to solve.’

‘Yeah right.’ You grumbled, making both wolves look at you. ‘What? I am not admitting to anything!’

‘You don’t have to, my face is inches away from the only thing about you that is truthful right now,’ the youngest noted without a care.

Hissing, you shoved him off, pulling the blanket over your knees again.

‘What? It’s only the truth.’ He rolled his eyes at your reaction. ‘Just get someone to fuck you and you’ll be alright.’

You sighed.

‘Yeah, ‘cause that’s so easy.’

Jeongin sat up.

‘What do you mean? If it’s not easy for you, who’s it easy for?’

‘Someone who doesn’t have a few wolf brothers to rip into anyone looking their way?’

‘We only rip into assholes who bother you,’ Hyunjin interjected.

‘Right. And the non-assholes watch that and think, ‘oh great, I’d love to hit that after they’re done with the other guy’. Sure.’

‘If they think like that they don’t need to be hitting that anyway.’ He replied curtly, and you pouted again.

‘Remind me again why you were surprised I cannot get laid?’

‘You shouldn’t give yourself over to guys like that, noona.’ Hyunjin pressed.

‘Agreed. You could always ask someone else for help. Like, I’d definitely help the hell out of you right now,’ Jeongin said, reaching your thigh with his hand and squeezing it.

‘Then you better do that, because I am already planning to get a tinder account and grab me some human!’ You suddenly confessed, startling both of the wolves.

‘You’re- what??’ Hyunjin gasped in your ear.

‘I didn’t think you were actually that desperate, noona…’ Jeongin muttered, licking his lips. ‘But I can deliver on my offer, if you really mean it.’

You swallowed under the scrutiny of the two pairs of eyes, and leaned back into Hyunjin, suddenly feeling weak from the stress of it. In any other state you might’ve been able to think it through and decline. But right now you suddenly had no care for the consequences of your actions.

‘Do it.’ You exhaled, watching the youngest wolf purse his lips to contain his excitement.

Before you allowed yourself to think about the current chain of events, you grabbed Hyunjin’s arms and wrapped them tighter around your frame. For some reason, you didn’t want him to go either.

‘Are you sure about this?’ He asked in your ear, and you shivered from his hot breath.

You turned to give him a reassuring nod.

‘It’s easy to give into temptation when you’re vulnerable. We can’t take advantage of that,’ he continued, brushing a strand of your hair to the side.

You felt overwhelmed by his comment, but then the youngest inserted himself into this exchange.

‘Are you that scared of Chan?’ He chuckled.

‘Chan? What does he have to do with anything?’ You asked in confusion, while they were throwing daggers at each other with their eyes.

‘Because hyung told us in graphic terms that he’d rip our faces off if we tried to coerce you into something like that.’

‘What the hell??’

‘My thoughts exactly. I think you’re the one coercing me into getting down for you, noona,’ he smiled, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts.

‘Why would he say that though?’ You asked Hyunjin this time.

‘I don’t know. I guess he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable around us?’

That made sense, sort of. But you weren’t sure if that was simply due to your reluctance about joining an all-male pack, or if there was something else going on. Jeongin’s hand dipping between your thighs disrupted your already flailing thought process.

Hyunjin growled lowly, warning him, and he looked at you for approval.

‘Take them off,’ you told him, and he smiled, tugging your shorts off immediately.

‘Noona…’ Hyunjin protested hoarsely, but you squeezed his forearm.

‘I am the one initiating this. Forget whatever Chan told you.’

‘It’s not about what-’

‘I want you here. Do you want to stay?’ You asked him, and his grip on you tightened, as if you could kick him out for real.

‘Yes.’

‘Then stop nagging. And kiss me.’

He looked down at your mouth and swallowed, leaning in.

‘Shit noona, you are soaked…’ The youngest distracted both of you with his eagerness. ‘Do you always wear such skimpy underwear at home? I could fuck you without taking it off.’

Before you answered, he pulled the item of clothing to the side and ran two fingers between your wet folds. Without wasting anymore time for chitchat, he leaned in, attaching his lips to your pussy.

‘Ah fuck!’ You jolted, steadied by the arms around you.

In fact, Hyunjin’s iron hold made it even more egregious.

Jeongin made it known that he was enjoying himself, humming into you as he licked and sucked your sensitive flesh. You could feel his spit drip down to your hole, and clenched around nothing, clawing at Hyunjin’s forearm.

‘Innie, shit…’ You cursed, looking down at his fluffy head between your legs.

He seemed pleased by the feedback he was receiving, so he started alternating between various techniques. When he switched to quick sharp licks up your slit, you started shaking.

You threw your head back, bumping into Hyunjin’s shoulder. He was still tense, and you turned your head to inhale his familiar scent that calmed you down before.

‘Jinnie, please touch me,’ you begged, trying to move one of his hands onto your breast.

His nose brushed against yours, and you felt his plush lips connect with the corner of your mouth. Grabbing him by the hair on the back of his head, you pushed him closer. He growled, mouth crashing on yours, and slipped his tongue inside it aggressively. When you felt his hand sneak under your pajama top to grab your boob, you whimpered loudly. His other hand pressed down on your belly, and Jeongin suddenly flicked your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth harshly.

You cried out, trembling in Hyunjin’s grasp. You were too sensitive to withstand such an attack.

‘Innie, don’t stop- I’m-’ You sobbed, grabbing onto Hyunjin’s hand over your breast. ‘I’m cumming-’

The older one bit onto your ear gently before giving it a short lick, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Jeongin was still assaulting your nub, and your long animalistic wail was probably heard outside.

You were still breathless when you felt someone lift your hips, removing your underwear.

‘Give her a break,’ you heard Hyunjin say sternly.

You squeezed his bicep, causing him to divert his attention.

‘Don’t,’ you shook your head weakly. ‘I want to.’

Just a moment later, you felt Jeongin prod at your entrance. You whined as he inserted himself into you, barely having enough time to adjust before he began rutting into you.

‘Fuck, noona… You have a- a perfect pussy,’ he noted, sounding strained. ‘Ah shit-’

Despite being just a year apart with Hyunjin, Innie was still quite young and impressionable. You could tell how overly excited and aroused he got from going down on you, and you felt it in his abrupt thrusts that he was not going to last at all. But you didn’t mind.

You panted, the aftershocks of your previous release rekindling by the continuous slapping of skin against your pussy, and Jeongin began fucking you even harder.

But at this point you got too distracted by the heavy breathing in your ear. Hyunjin wasn’t even the one inside you, and yet, he was still the one making you go insane. You wanted to cry from his proximity, because he was close but still not close enough.

You squeezed his thigh and moved your palm to the side, finding his long, hard cock.

‘Jinnie…’ You mumbled, frantically shoving your hand down his pants.

His hips jerked forward as you grabbed his thick flesh.

You desperately, desperately wanted him inside. And he knew.

‘Don’t cum inside her,’ he told the younger one, who was definitely close to his orgasm, and shoved him with his foot.

You felt him slip out, cursing his hyung, who quickly flipped you around. Jeongin tugged your hips up to put you on all fours, and shoved himself inside you again. Your face was pressed to Hyunjin’s flexing abs while he fucked you from behind feverishly. With all the thoughts vanishing from your dazed brain, you resorted to kissing and licking the skin over his taut stomach and using your nails to leave shallow marks as he stroked your head slowly. The maknae’s fingers dug deeper into the supple flesh of your thighs as he came to the verge of his release.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Hyunjin suddenly growled, loud and clear this time. ‘Get your ass over there and watch.’

Your skin was all covered in goosebumps from the commanding tone of his voice. You wanted him to use it on you as well, just so that you could defy him. Fuck around and find out.

But Jeongin was a good boy, so he did as he was told. As soon as he slipped out, you got pulled up the bed again. Hyunjin put almost his entire weight onto your back, making your elbows and knees give out. That seemed to be exactly what he wanted, and his dick slipped into your tight hole easily while you were lying flat on the bed. You moaned as his body moved in a wave-like motion, merging with yours completely. It wasn’t clear whether Hyunjin was that much bigger than Jeongin, or it was the position adding to it, but you felt so full that it made your pussy quiver helplessly.

‘Please, Jinnie…’ You whined, as his hips continued to snap forward. ‘Make me cum…’

He quickly pulled out, rolling you over like a ragdoll, and folded you in half, continuing to pound you into the mattress. You heard Jeongin moan from his spot on the chair, where he was watching you from. But you were too engaged to even try and pay attention to him, although you were sure that he was jerking himself off right now.

Hyunjin was destroying your pussy with methodical slaps, and you felt your big orgasm build again. You were going to cum so hard, you just knew it.

‘Mhm, deeper…’ You pleaded, your vision blurring as he hit so deep that your pleasure was beginning to hurt.

‘Do you want- want me to- want my cum?’ He asked, not slowing down at all.

‘Fuck, Jinnie…’

You thrashed underneath him, causing him to let go of your legs, unfolding you, and lie on top of you. His pelvis snapped back-and-forth fluidly, and you made eye contact, catching his feral gaze that likely mirrored your own.

‘Fill me…’ You choked on your words. ‘Fuck, I want it- inside me-’

As your orgasm washed over your body, you completely lost it. All control over your actions slipped away from you, and you bit into his flesh that was closest to you, piercing his bicep with your teeth. You pulled back almost immediately, but before you could say anything, Hyunjin reciprocated, grabbing your arm and sinking his own teeth into your wrist.

With the added tinge of pain, you were still shaking violently when his cum flooded your insides. You wailed and screamed every time he thrusted, with his skin slapping against yours, until his cum started gushing out of you. When he stilled, you were on the verge of losing consciousness. The tightness in your hole kept you there, and you swallowed the salty taste of his blood, slowly realizing what just happened.

‘Dammit, hyung! You knotted her?’ You heard Jeongin come to his senses before you two.

‘Fuck off.’

Hyunjin didn’t sound like he’d let anyone mess with him right now, and it sent a tight pulse through your core. He watched Jeongin flee the room as he ran his tongue over his teeth, obviously aware of your body’s reactions to him. Licking his bloody red lips, he sobered himself up.

‘You fucking marked me,’ he told you, as if you didn’t already know.

‘I didn’t- didn’t mean to-’ You tried to justify breathlessly, fidgeting slightly. ‘It just felt so good that I…’

‘Stop talking. I can’t move, and you make me want to rip into you all over again.’

You pursed your lips as your pussy quivered around his rock hard knot once more, making your eyes tear up. Everything about him was sending you into overdrive, and you had no idea what to do with yourself. It suddenly dawned on you that this was exactly what you wanted this entire time, and you had no idea that it was making you frustrated. Not even realizing that your mate was right next door, quite literally. You could’ve had him months ago, but you were too preoccupied by other things in life like trying to build a family bond with your new pack to see what fell right into your lap, quite literally. The only wolf you needed.

‘J-Jinnie…’

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he held his hips steady.

‘Baby. If you move even an inch-’ He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. ‘If you cum again, it will only prolong this…’

‘But I- I want to!’ You whined, wiggling your hips. ‘Please, it’s so big…’

‘No.’

‘Hyunjin!’

‘I said no.’

The authority in his voice made your toes curl.

‘Fuck,’ he growled, jerking forward involuntarily as he felt you fall apart again. ‘You’re not gonna stop until you get yourself pregnant, are you?’

You sobbed, unable to snatch yourself out of the excruciatingly long orgasm.

Hyunjin pressed as deep into you as he could, trying to hold you completely still, and the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. At this point you simply blacked out from the intensity of the pleasure, regaining your perception of reality only when your partner’s girth finally began deflating in your overstimulated pussy.

‘Are you back?’ He asked, voice a bit gruff but not low and menacing anymore.

It made warmth spread out in your chest as you nodded.

‘Does anything hurt?’

You shook your head first, and then nodded after noticing his expression.

‘It must hurt. I told you not to move, baby.’ Although he was admonishing you, it didn’t stop him from pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘Give me a couple more minutes and it’ll be done.’

‘Okay,’ you mumbled, not that eager to let him go – he was your newly found mate, after all.

But your fragile intimacy was crushed by the loud voices in the hallway.

‘What the fuck did I tell you all about doing shit like that to her? I don’t care who-’

Chan burst through the door, stopping in his tracks.

‘Are you still going at it?!’ He asked, not fazed by the fact that Hyunjin was naked and on top of you.

After he tugged the blanket up to cover your bodies fully and turned to face his alpha, Chan gasped.

‘Don’t tell me- it’s you, isn’t it?? She’s your mate, right?’ He sounded more excited than angry now. ‘I knew it! I told you that you absolutely had to join-’

‘Hyung,’ Hyunjin cleared his throat, not even trying to sound apologetic. ‘We’re otherwise preoccupied, as you might see.’

Thankfully, he couldn’t see under the covers, and your mate’s body also shielded yours from the other wolf’s eyes, but you were still dying of embarrassment.

‘Oh- right. Wait, are you locked- You know what, nevermind. Keep going. I mean, finish up. I mean-’

‘Oh gosh, Chanie hyung!’ Yongbok groaned, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him into the hallway before shutting the door. ‘Let them be.’

As their voices became less and less distinguishable, Hyunjin looked into your eyes, seemingly reading your thoughts.

‘No, he’s never going to shut up about it,’ he replied before you asked. ‘But I’m still grateful that he convinced you to join the pack. Thank you for taking him up on his offer.’

His last words made him tense, thinking back to someone else you took up on his offer.

‘You’re going to snap Innie’s neck, aren’t you?’

‘You’re fucking right.’

‘Jinnie…’

Masterlist

A/N: Ahhh, this hot mess of a trio... I hope you enjoyed this little fun ride! Please comment and reblog, I really appreciate your feedback💜 And as usual, my asks are open~

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List

Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.

Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.

Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)

Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.

❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.

❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.

❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.

"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.

"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.

To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.

❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.

❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.

❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.

❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.

❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.

"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.

"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.

"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.

❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.

❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.

❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)

"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.

"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.

The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.

"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.

❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.

Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie

[nadvs]

Omg! We need to know what happened in the college library 😍

basketballplayer! rafe is so into public sex and nobody can convince me otherwise 👀 (this is in their fwb stage)

based on this fic! mentioned in this blurb! 18+!

it starts with her posting a selfie on her snap story in her school’s library with the caption: came all the way to the library just to pretend to study.

rafe replies to it with: can’t pretend to graduate tho. she says: blocking you and he replies: oh nooo how will i live.

she always finds herself smiling at her phone whenever she’s talking with him. she never thought she’d find a friend in him of all people, but she’s happy she did.

a few minutes later, he texts her: how long u planning to be at the library?

she replies: like another hour. why? you still good to meet at 3?

they have plans to go to a volleyball game on her campus after she got extra tickets from a friend. maybe he forgot. but he only asks her how he can get to her. she sends him the details.

soon after, rafe finds her on the top floor of her college library. it’s isolated and quiet, overlooking the courtyard.

admittedly, the second he saw the photo she posted, he was turned on. it’s crazy how a girl’s face alone can do this to him. the photo wasn’t even suggestive. she’s just that hot.

“here to beg for forgiveness?” she asks quietly as he paces towards the desk she’s sitting at. he’s wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt that he’s filling out well.

“forgiveness?” he settles in the chair beside her, smelling like his body wash.

he showered. she knows him well enough now; he always showers before a hook-up. he’s definitely here for that. he actually drove from his campus to hers in the middle of the day for it, hours before they were supposed to meet. she smirks at the realization.

“for being rude,” she says, gazing at his handsome features. the corner of his mouth curls into a smile, not even hiding that his eyes are trailing down her body.

she crosses her arms, purposely giving him a view of how low the top of her dress dips.

“not what i’m here for,” he says. he licks his lips as he glances at her chest, then meets her eyes. “you looked bored. i’m bored, too.”

“no, i think you’re something else,” she whispers. only three other people are in this section upstairs, far away and scattered across desks, but she can’t be too careful.

“and what’s that?” his voice is low, almost raspy.

“you know what.”

“yeah?” he says. his hand lands on the top of hers, guiding her palm to his lap. “check.”

of course he’s making her do the rest of the work. making her show how badly she wants him, too.

she looks around to make sure nobody’s watching, her heartrate quickening, and gives in to her body’s impulse to trail her hand up higher. his bulge is hard under his shorts.

she meets his eyes again with hitched breath, pulling back, arousal twisting deep in her core.

“anywhere we can go around here?” he asks, tilting his head as he leans closer.

“here?” she echoes. “in the library?”

“yeah,” he drawls. “why not?”

“we’ll get caught,” she says, but admittedly, the risk is thrilling.

“or we won’t,” rafe tells her.

it doesn’t even feel like she’s giving in to him. she wants to do it. she quickly packs her laptop in her bag and they make their way to the shelves lining the dim, even more desolate side of the top floor.

she inspects the ceiling for cameras, relieved to find none, and when she finally looks at rafe again, he’s stepping close to her, hands on her hips as he guides her back against a bookshelf.

she leaves her bag on the floor, gazing up at him as his chest presses against hers. his hot mouth is on her neck, grinding so she can feel how hard he is for her.

his fingers dip beneath her dress, cupping between her legs with cool fingers.

“think you can be quiet?” rafe whispers. she shudders as he slowly rubs over her panties with one hand while pulling down his shorts with the other.

she nods, all her composure lost.

“no matter how good it feels, alright?” he teases, his lips against hers. “i know you can get loud sometimes.”

“hurry up,” she says impatiently, tilting her hips forward to press against his hand. he chuckles at her desperation, pulling himself out of his boxers and shifting her panties to the side.

she hikes her leg up, arching her back as he guides himself into her. his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure once he feels her wrapped around him, burying into her with a hard jolt.

he has to keep his knees bent to be low enough for her. he holds her at the underside of her thigh, keeping her propped up as he starts to rock in and out of her.

her breaths are shallow and match his pace, an exhale with every thrust he takes. he watches her, the way her lips are parted as he slams into her, her hands tangling in his hair.

rafe lets out a low “fuck” once she starts to rock against him and her brows furrow in frustration. she brings her hand to his mouth, feeling him smile against her palm. when she quietly laughs, he mirrors her, putting his hand against her lips.

they stay like that, palms covering each other’s mouths, bodies joining in the best way, the thrill of the risk of being caught adding sparks in the air between them.

it takes everything in him not to grunt when he comes, breathing hard against her hand. once his body weakens, she pushes him back and starts to fix her dress.

“what about you?” he says, panting.

“i’m too scared we’ll get caught,” she says with a hushed laugh, pushing her dress down, eyes darting around. as good as it felt, she can’t imagine coming when she’s so on edge about being caught.

rafe isn’t okay with it. with other girls, it’s not like he’s totally selfish and only focused on his own pleasure, but if a girl doesn’t seem keen or direct about wanting to orgasm, he doesn’t care.

but with her, he does. it’s actually kind of jarring how much he does.

he tells her they’re going to her dorm. and once has her on her bed, he pulls her dress up again, slides her panties off, and uses his fingers and his tongue to bring her to her peak, revelling in the sound of her moans and the fact that she doesn’t have to worry about being quiet this time.

her body feels so relaxed afterwards that she actually thanks him. rafe smirks, gazing down at her as she comes down from her high, still in awe of her and the effect she has on him.

“what?” she laughs when she notices him staring.

“nothing,” he says. “you’re welcome.”

she laughs again, nudging him, unable to believe the turn her day took.

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ TEMPTING

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PIV unprotected sex, edging, prone bone position, thigh job, pwp (plot what plot). This is sort of a continuation of another smut i posted but you can read this without reading the first one.

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: uhg. lilia. i love him. i love general lilia. thats it that all i have to say.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | TWST MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS

Whenever a window of opportunity to rest presents itself, you’ll sit on the nearest tree stump or log available, idly watching what happens around you.

You see soldiers' training, sparring, fixing tents, and the general dividing tasks among his subordinates with a stern voice. Lilia’s an example of what being a leader means—not limiting himself to delegating labor, but also lending a hand.

He grabbed the handle of his lithic weapon as he sparred with one soldier; with practiced ease, Lilia unarmed the soldier. The general reprimanded the other fae for losing his footing over a basic movement.

Lilia plans tactics for ambushes furtively, aiming to attack the enemy’s weakness first. Deft and sharp.

Soon, you’d understand that the general isn’t used to docility of any kind. Neither giving nor receiving. A war general shouldn’t allow a margin of error, steps should be given with precision and intent on subduing your adversary.

You recalled your first intimate night with Lilia. You remembered the sensation of him holding back, and even then, he still did a number on your body. You’ve spent enough time with the fae to know that the moment you try to point out any attempt at tenderness on his part, he would deny it.

You couldn’t help but find it endearing. And your curiosity increased the more you wondered about to what extent you could tease him and make him lose his constraints. Lilia’s libido was pretty responsive to what you did or said, so it wouldn’t be difficult to push him in that direction.

The moment the soldiers were already in their tents, you sneaked into the general’s.

“I’m heading to the lake to wash off the dirt,” you said as you entered the tent. You found your fae writing something down on the map splayed across the table.

Lilia acknowledged you with a hum.

You sighed. “I don’t wanna go alone. The woods become frightening the moment there’s no more sunlight, you know.”

Lilia dropped the pencil and looked at you. “A little dirt on your body’s not going to kill you,” he teased.

“You know I can’t sleep like that. I sweated a lot today, too. Baur made me accompany that expedition group to the mountain’s skirt in the morning,” you complained. “I promise it won’t be long.”

You sensed that he was about to give up.

“And someone could sneak up on me and see me naked.”

That was enough argument for the fae to stand up from his chair and rush to tag along with you.

This was your favorite moment of the day, when you could not just finally go to bed but also freshen up with clean water. Even if the temperature might be a bit chilly during the night, the fresh water was welcomed to clean you up from the dirt and sweat that clinged to your skin.

“The water feels nice,” You hummed as you dipped your toes into it. Lilia was more concerned about making sure no one was near, though, his ears flicked at the slightest suspicious sound.

You began undressing in front of him, as you have done many times before. Even with your back turned towards him, you could feel his stare roaming around your flesh.

You carefully entered into the serene lake until the water covered your chest.

“Lilia,” You called out to him again. His gaze returned to you. “Why don’t you join? You look like you need this, too.”

“You said you wouldn’t take long. I still have work to finish.” He crossed his arms, gripping his lithic.

“Just this once,” You almost pouted. “You’ve been busy these past few days. I miss you already. I’ll even help you wash your back.”

You held Lilia’s stare before he, for the second time today, humored you. Soon, his clothes were untidily placed next to yours.

Beaming with joy, you hugged Lilia the instant he was within reach.

“General, your hair’s getting wet,” You hurried to help him fix his hairstyle in a way that the inconvenience would be resolved. “There. All done.”

Lilia grumbled about something meaningless as he allowed you to scrub his back, washing off both dirt and dried blood and uncovering new lacerations he had gained from recent ambushes. You traced them with your fingers, leaning closer to kiss those scars.

You couldn’t see Lilia’s expression, but you did sense his body’s temperature going up.

“Mm, you’re so warm,” You relished the warmth from the fae’s body. Your tits pressed flush against his back, and your hands roamed around his front—feather-like touches teasing his chest and abdomen. You were aware that your words and actions were leading in a certain direction, so before Lilia beat you to it and followed through with it, you pulled away from him. “It’s getting chilly, though. Let’s head back already.”

In the blink of an eye, Lilia gripped your wrist and pulled you towards his chest. Your backside making contact with something hard and hot, nudging in between your thighs.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Hm? I thought the general had work to finish,” You feigned innocence.

“That can wait. Right now, I need to have you.”

“But we’re in a lake! Someone could walk in on us. Let’s head back to the tent,” Ignoring the evident ache in your body, you did your best to deter him. For fun. To test how far you could make him wait. If not for your determination to uncover the fae’s strength, you would’ve conceded.

Under the promise, the general’s complaint had died for the moment.

Once in the tent, you were preparing to go to sleep, until a sudden force pinned you against the bed. A small squeak left you, and the familiar arms squeezing your waist made you understand that your little teasing reaped an interesting reaction from him.

“Lilia—” You tried to gain some balance by trying to prop your torso up with your hands, but the general immobilized you by further pinning your legs against the mattress with his.

“You little tease, you think I wouldn’t notice what you were trying to do?” He brushed away the hair covering your nape to nip at the sensitive skin there. “If you wanted me to rough your body up, you should’ve just asked for it,”

This was what you wanted, although you didn’t imagine it would be this soon. If this little teasing got you to this point, you couldn’t imagine how he would be if you had done more...

One hand slipped under your underwear while his other hand covered your mouth in time before a moan escaped you. With his index and middle fingers, he began rubbing your clit in circular motions.

“I’ve been treating you with so much leniency you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with,” His breath against your ear made you shiver, and a renewed sense of pleasure overtook your body. “I’ll have to remind you,”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You managed to whisper, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but failing with how he played with your sex. Lilia really did know you inside out.

“You were already wet when I slid my hand under your clothes. Don’t try to act coy now,” He seemed to be amused, above all.

You clutched the sheets as you lost yourself in pleasure, your head falling against the pillow and using it to muffle your voice. You barely register Lilia pulling your pajama pants down and off your legs.

The fae grew eager, having a sliver of enough composure left to discard your underwear, but your uncoordinated and trembling body made the task more complicated than needed. Instead, he pushed it to the side, his fingers not once faltering in stimulating you.

A muffled whimper of his name. Not even a second later, Lilia stopped his movements.

“Noo, what’re you doing,” You protested, not expecting him to halt. “I was about to…”

“Aw, you were about to. What a pity,” He mocked you, momentarily freeing your body from his antsy hands to remove his own garments. Once done, you felt him spread your slicked pussy lips with his thumbs, eyeing you up with a satisfied, complacent grin. “You like being treated like this. You have no salvation, do you?”

Despite not being able to deny it, your face burned from embarrassment. Even if Lilia tended to put your pleasure first and holds back from going all out, the change in that tactful demeanor into a meaner one still excited you.

While holding you open still, he grinded his cock between your folds, using both his pre-cum and your arousal to lubricate it. You were growing impatient, and thus, tried to grind back against him to incite him into already giving in.

Lilia rested his weight against your back, his chest flush against it, weighing you down. Lilia dug his fingernails into your flesh, while demanding that you stay still. His fingers went back to playing with your clit, using your sticky inner thighs to pleasure himself.  

After what felt like forever, the tip prodded inside, taking his time to stuff you with more of his dick. He pulled back until the just head was in and thrust with more strength. The feeling of Lilia’s warm body embracing yours and his thickness stretching you almost made you forget about holding back your voice.

From the very moment you conceived the idea of teasing him, to Lilia not allowing you to touch yourself or him, the buildup to your orgasm approached faster than what you expected. As if both factors weren’t enough, you were still sensitive over the climax you were robbed of prior moments ago.

You mewled, trying to reach behind you and hold his hand to ground yourself.

Instead, the fae grabbed your arms and pinned them against your back, his pace not stuttering for even a minute.

This was what you wanted—for him to be rougher…and within a couple more smacks of his hips against yours, you came hard around him, broken moans of his name escaping from your bitten lips. Lilia quieted himself by kissing your shoulder the moment he released his cum inside.

Sore and spent, your head collapsed forward against the pillow again. You heard Lilia’s amused chuckle, resting next to you while keeping an arm wrapped around you.

“I wasn’t too rough, right?” He muttered after a while in silence, his eyes inspecting your body. “Does it hurt somewhere?”

“My arms, you gripped me too hard,” You mumbled. “I didn’t notice it at the moment because…it felt nice…”

At your confession, he looked taken back by it before his expression shifted into a relieved one and he chuckled. “I should’ve known you like being treated like that. You are quite keen about my fangs, and I’ve noticed how your body melts when I bite you,”

Before you could fawn over the coy visage that took over his eyes for a split second, it faded away with the same ease it appeared as he turned his head to the other side.

“I love it when you’re trying to be gentle, even if you’re not that great at it,” You teased, your fingers brushing his hair. Lilia grunted, suddenly grumpy about you pointing that out. “But I also enjoy it when you’re rough,”

He humphed, still avoiding facing you. You smiled at him, despite it not being visible to him. You closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion getting to you.

[heytheredelulu]

Marvel Fanfiction Masterlist

| Smut ❤️‍🔥 | SFW Spicy 🌶️ | Angst ❤️‍🩹 | Fluff ✨ |

Imagines

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Little Devil 🌶️

You’re tempting him to sin.

Ruin Me 🌶️

Say less.

Bucky @ Ulta 🌶️✨

You dragged him with you.

Five Senses ❤️‍🩹✨

You walk him through the grounding method.

I Gotta Take This 🌶️

Bucky wants to make an excuse to slip out of the mission briefing.

Simple

Bucky Barnes enjoys the simple things in life.

To Have and to Hold and to Fuck Whenever I Want

You really think a little bit of blood is going to keep your husband from having you?

Steve Rogers x Reader ❤️

Like Sin 🌶️❤️‍🩹

Your possessive boyfriend accuses you of cheating on him with his best friend- and you decide to rile him up.

Loki x Reader 💚

Yearn for You 🌶️✨

You’ve been friends since childhood, after all this time could he truly feel nothing for you?

Winter Rose Drabbles

The Winter Rose, an ex HYDRA assassin trauma bonded with Bucky Barnes in the aftermath of their deconditioning. They’re walking the fine line of love and friendship and both of them are too afraid to cross it.

Bucky Barnes x Winter Rose 🥀

Wounds ❤️‍🩹✨

Wash Over Me ✨

Fuck the Line 🌶️❤️‍🩹

One Shots

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Temptation ❤️‍🔥

You text your boyfriend a nude selfie while he’s working and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Good Girl ❤️‍🔥

So close you could taste it- but only if you begged him well enough.

Wants and Needs ❤️‍🔥

You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.

Little Bookworm ❤️‍🔥

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Watch Me ❤️‍🔥

Anon request: “could you do something enemies/rivals where bucky accidentally finds out that you have a mirror kink during a training session?”

Unbreakable ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

Unbreakable- The After Years ✨🌶️

The conclusion to your story.

Stucky x Reader 💙❤️

Untitled - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Multipart fics

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Ready to Comply Part One ❤️‍🔥

Tony Stark's shy, curvy intern finds herself fighting for her life when the quiet and reserved ex-assassin she's been pining after for nearly a year has been activated by HYDRA and given the order to kill her to prevent the completion of the new tech she's been developing alongside Tony Stark and Stark Industries.

Ready to Comply Part Two ❤️‍🔥

The second installment of Ready to Comply.

Ready to Comply Part Three - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Teaser

Current Taglist (Taglist is open):

@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

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[alewritesfics]

Hope

Happy marriage part 3

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: new hope blossoms and new starts commence

A/n: long time no see people! 😅😅😅 Sorry I went MIA but I got this done and decided to post it. Now I won't give an exact time on when I'll post because now I see I'm a little liar and I don't go through with my word 😶😶

I'm very sorry to leave you all hanging. But here's the last part of happy marriage and I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST Part 1. Part 2

“When I said I will give you a chance to make it up to me, I did not mean you had to follow me and be glued to my side everywhere I go.” You spoke annoyed, lifting up your eyes from the romance book you were currently reading. You had felt Anthony’s gaze centered on you for a few minutes now, you tried to ignore it but it felt so intense it was impossible to.

It was annoying, really, well maybe just a bit endearing, although you’ll fiercely deny it if anybody mentions it. Anthony really seemed to be trying to earn your forgiveness, he was more attentive than before, more understanding, a little bit more romantic as he now gifts you a bouquet of flowers every single day (something that annoys Lady Bridgerton as the maids cannot seem to find any more empty vases). But it was annoying that he seemed to follow you wherever you went.

A walk around the garden? Antony was walking behind you. You sit down in the drawing room to read a book? Anthony was seated next to you before you could even blink. A ball? He would always pull you into dances, something you couldn’t deny him of. Annoying, very annoying (You secretly love it, don’t lie to yourself).

“I know,” Anthony responded, meeting your eyes without any shame, “I do not mind following you around, it is quite…..fascinating, to be in your presence that is.”

You held back the blush wanting to come on to your cheeks at his words “Surprised you are just now figuring that out” You said, flickering your eyes back down to your book, pretending his words did not affect you in any way when the truth was that they did. “You know, it is not too late to give up now. You will not have my forgiveness from one day to the next.”

It was hard not to forgive him in an instant whenever he spoke sweet words, no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you still loved him, deeply. But the reminder of how much he hurt you and how much you cried over him washed away any sudden desire to forgive him. He had to work hard to earn your forgiveness, it’s not something you’ll give away easily towards him, not this time.

Anthony wasn’t deterred by your words, “There is something us Bridgertons are, and that is that we are stubborn, so i will not rest until I have fully earn your forgiveness, you have my word.” He said as he stood up, determination filling his words “Gather much patience and indifference as you can, darling, because I am going to be by your side until I succeed and I can see you are not as unaffected as you try to appear to be” He then turned around to walk out of the drawing room

“There is another thing I am bargaining for,” He stopped before he exited the room “and that is to earn back your love….no matter how long it takes” he said shamelessly before finally walking out

You swallowed harshly, your heart beating fast in your chest as you fully took in his words and the promise in them. You exhaled shakily, feelings you did not want to feel ever again trying to resurface. It is both horrible and amazing how much he affects you, whether he said cruel or sweet words, your traitorous heart always seems to beat faster to no one but him.

He felt so idiotic. For the first time in his entire life, Anthony felt like the dumbest person in the whole wide world. He could see it, he could see how much he actually hurt you. You were distant towards him, cold even, your eyes didn’t have that sparkle in them whenever you saw him, nor did you bend over trying to fulfill his every wish, not that he wanted you to, but there was this pain in your eyes, this hurt when your eyes met his which made him feel so guilty and dumb.

There is this saying that goes, you never know what you have until you lost it. Anthony felt like that. You was an amazing person and he felt like the dumbest person alive to not have realized that sooner. His mother was right from the start, you really are the perfect viscountess , the perfect woman….the only woman for him.

His only relief is that the pain that he previously saw in your eyes decreases with the time he spends with you. It gave him hope and he will not rest until that pain disappears completely and your eyes once again reflect love in them when you see him.

“Y/n” His face lights up, eyes flickering up when he heard your name, standing up from his seat as he saw you enter the dining room with a plate full of cookies, his reaction not unnoticed by his mother who hid her smile pretending to take a sip out of her glass of wine.

“Y/n,” Anthony said taking a step towards you before stopping and instead pulling out your unofficial assigned chair (which is coincidentally besides him, wink wink), one you haven’t sat on since your marriage crumbled.

You sit down on the chair, silently thanking him with a nod of your head “I made some cookies, they’re recently baked so they might be hot” You smiled, putting the plate in the middle of the table “I-“

“You didn’t have to.” Anthony said breathlessly, the thought that you accepted his gesture and was so close to him making his heart beat quickly, it felt as if it would snap right out of his chest. You were not completely ignoring him…

“I know, I wanted to” You say with a nod

“They look delicious.” Anthony said, not knowing what else to say to you, suddenly feeling as if he couldn’t muster up any idea on what to say to keep the conversation going.

“I hope that they are” You answer

“I am sure anything you make is amazing,” He said with a smile

You blink, now you were the one speechless “Thanks….I guess?” you say awkwardly. You heard Benedict chuckle from beside you, you turned to face him, giving him a glare.

“Ah no, do not mind me” Benedict uttered, taking a sip from his cup of wine “Pretend I’m not here, I just remembered something funny and it made me laugh”

You scoffed before standing up from your seat “I have to go get ready for the opera” you said “do not follow me” you uttered once you saw Anthony moving to stand up as well

“but I- I can-“ he groaned when he saw you leaving without another glance

“Anthony, go call Y/n and Hyacinth , the carriage is almost here” Violet Bridgerton told her son as she looked out the window

“No need” You spoke as you walked down the stairs, Hyacinth not far behind you

You let out a breath as you reached the ground floor, Anthony’s gaze immediately found yours as you descended the stairs. His eyes lit up, as though seeing you for the first time that evening, his breath catching slightly at the sight of you. You wore a gown of deep sapphire, its elegant lines flattering your figure without drawing too much attention, and yet, to Anthony, you might as well have been the only person in the room.

“Y/n…” He murmured, his tone soft, almost reverent. The man you had once known to be brash and commanding now seemed utterly captivated by your every movement. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so infuriatingly persistent.

“You look beautiful,” he added, his voice lower now, as if it was meant only for you.

You offered him a polite smile, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Thank you, Anthony.”

Hyacinth grinned mischievously from behind you, clearly picking up on the tension between you two. “Anthony’s been quite eager about the opera all week,” she teased as she passed by, giving her brother a sly look.

Anthony’s expression shifted into something more sheepish, a rare sight indeed. “Only because I knew you’d be there,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You sighed inwardly. This was all part of his effort to win you back, but he couldn’t just charm his way through everything. Not after the pain he had caused. There was a deep well of hurt beneath your composed exterior, and no amount of flowery words or pretty compliments could erase it. You had promised yourself that if he truly wanted your forgiveness, he would have to work for it. He would have to see the depths of the damage he had inflicted.

“Let’s just get going,” you said softly, already moving toward the door where the carriage waited.

The opera house was a grand affair, as always. Chandeliers glittered overhead, the rich burgundy of the velvet curtains creating an opulent backdrop for the night’s performance. People dressed in their finest milled about, awaiting the start of the show, their chatter filling the air like a soft hum.

You took your seat next to Anthony, and despite the large crowd, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. As the lights dimmed and the first notes of the opera began to play, Anthony leaned slightly toward you.

“I’ve never quite appreciated music as I do now,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft overture. His eyes, however, were not on the stage but on you.

You didn’t respond, focusing your attention on the performance. Sienna Rosso, the opera singer he had an affair with, had a voice that could command any room, but tonight, it seemed Anthony was deaf to it. His gaze never left you, even as the area swelled with emotion, which completely surprised you.

Throughout the performance, he remained close, his presence a constant reminder of the promises he had made. When Sienna reached a particularly moving part of her song, you noticed Anthony’s hand briefly brush against yours where it rested on the armrest. You quickly pulled your hand away, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction than necessary. The corner of his mouth twitched in what you could only describe as amusement, but he didn’t push further.

After the opera ended, and the crowd began to file out, you overheard murmurs from others in the audience. Most were compliments on the performance, but a few curious glances and whispers were directed toward you and Anthony.

“It seems Viscount Bridgerton is quite taken with his wife these days,” one woman said to her companion, not too far from where you stood. “He didn’t take his eyes off her once.”

You pretended not to hear them, but the words echoed in your mind as you followed Anthony outside. His devotion was clear, and while part of you appreciated his efforts, another part still held back.

The days that followed were filled with Anthony’s persistent attempts to be near you. He insisted on accompanying you during your walks in the gardens, even if you would rather enjoy the peace and quiet alone. You often found him sitting in the drawing room whenever you tried to read, as if his presence had become a permanent fixture in your life.

One morning, you entered the drawing room with your favorite book, intent on having a quiet moment to yourself. To no surprise, Anthony was already seated by the window, reading through some documents. His head lifted the moment you walked in.

“You don’t always have to be here, you know,” you said, trying to sound indifferent as you sat down with your book. You felt a sense of déjà vu as you remembered you said almost the exact thing days ago.

“I know,” Anthony replied, not looking up from his papers. “But I want to be.”

You shook your head slightly, unsure whether to be frustrated or touched by his relentless presence.

As time passed, Anthony’s efforts didn’t wane. Instead, they became more thoughtful, more personal. He began to ask about the things you can loved—books, music, even the small hobbies you indulged in. One day, he found you at the piano, quietly playing a familiar melody.

“I didn’t know you played,” he said softly, standing by the doorway as he watched you.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, not looking up from the keys.

Anthony stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “Then let me learn.”

For a moment, you stopped playing and turned to him. His gaze was sincere, and for the first time, you saw just how much he truly wanted to understand you, not just win back your favor. There was a quiet desperation in his eyes—a longing to connect in a way that went beyond mere apologies.

“I’m not the same person I was before, Anthony,” you said softly. “And neither are you.”

He knelt beside the piano bench, his hand resting lightly on the edge. “I know. But that doesn’t change how much I want to be the man who deserves you.”

Anthony’s devotion became even more apparent during the next ball. You had agreed to attend, mostly to maintain appearances, but you had no intention of dancing with him. Yet, as the evening wore on, you found yourself in his arms once again, moving to the rhythm of the music.

The anticipation of the evening bubbling inside you. You’d worn your best gown—an elegant shade of deep emerald green that complemented your complexion beautifully, with delicate lace detailing that caught the light as you moved.

As you stepped into the grand hall, the chandeliers glimmered above, and the soft murmur of conversations created a symphony of excitement. You could already see a few familiar faces, including Anthony’s, who was talking animatedly with Benedict. As your eyes caught his, a smile crept onto his face, and it sent an unexpected flutter through your chest.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as you approached him. There was a sincerity in his tone that made your heart race.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your composure. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Viscount Bridgerton.”

“You’ve really been making an effort, haven’t you?” you remarked, genuinely curious.

“I have,” he replied earnestly. “I realized how much I took for granted, and I want to change that. I want to understand you better, to show you how much you mean to me.”

His words stirred something deep within you. It was a mixture of hope and caution, the remnants of your heart still wary. “It’s going to take time,” you reminded him gently.

“I’m willing to wait,” he said, his voice firm yet tender.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories, a tentative but genuine connection beginning to weave itself between you. Over the following weeks, Anthony continued his pursuit, each small gesture a reminder of his commitment. He would bring you books he thought you’d enjoy, spend afternoons listening to you play the piano, and even sought you out during family gatherings, always ensuring you were included.

During one particularly memorable evening at a ball, Anthony once again swept you into a dance. The music flowed around you, and with each turn, he whispered sweet nothings, his breath warm against your ear. “You look breathtaking tonight,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

“Flattery again?” you teased, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you.

“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth,” he replied, his gaze unwavering.

As the dance continued, a group of gentlemen approached, their laughter echoing with a cruel edge. One stepped forward, a smirk plastered across his face. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Viscount and his precious wife,” he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “I never thought you’d stoop so low after stepping out on her for that soprano. What a delight to see you back with the real prize. But then again, is she really a prize if you had to search elsewhere?”

The laughter from his companions was sharp and mocking, and your heart sank at their words. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger flooding through you.

Anthony’s demeanor shifted in an instant. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said coolly, his grip on your waist tightening as he moved to lead you away. “Your lack of manners is as appalling as your lack of character.”

“Come now, Anthony. You can’t seriously think anyone would believe you’re happy here,” the gentleman continued, his smirk widening. “After all, we all know your heart is still with that soprano. Poor thing, she wasn’t simply a phase, was she?”

The cruel laughter of the group hung in the air, and you felt the sting of their words cut deep. Anthony’s protective nature surged to the forefront, his expression hardening as he glared at them. “Fun at the expense of another’s feelings is not fun at all,” he retorted, his voice steady but low, a clear warning laced with anger.

You watched in surprise as he stood his ground, the intensity in his gaze unwavering. “You’d do well to remember that she deserves respect, not your mockery.”

As the gentlemen backed off, their laughter fading into awkward silence, you felt a rush of gratitude for Anthony. “Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him. In that moment, you truly saw the man he was becoming,the way he stood up for you, how he was learning to respect your feelings, and the genuine warmth in his eyes. It was as if a veil had lifted, and you could see the sincerity in his actions.

Your heart softened for him, the edges of your hurt beginning to blur. “You’ve really changed,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper. “It means so much to me.”

“Always,” he replied softly, his gaze searching yours. The intensity in his eyes was filled with an unspoken promise, a vow that he would continue to earn your trust and love.

As the evening wore on, you both enjoyed each other’s company, the space around you brimming with laughter and joy. The memory of the cruel words from the gentlemen faded, overshadowed by the warmth that radiated between you and Anthony. With each smile, each shared glance, you could feel the distance between you gradually closing, drawing you closer together.

You gently squeezed Anthony’s hand and leaned in close, your voice barely above a whisper, “Come with me.”

His eyebrows raised in curiosity, but he didn’t hesitate. You led him out of the ballroom, down the halls of the house, until you found a small, secluded alcove at the back of the house—a quiet corner where you could be alone. The air was cooler here, with the faint scent of roses from the garden outside, and the moonlight filtered softly through the window.

Anthony looked at you with concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what was on your mind. “Are you alright?” he asked gently, his voice filled with care.

You nodded, stepping closer to him, feeling your heart pound in your chest. “I’m fine, Anthony. I just… I wanted to talk to you alone.”

He looked nervous, as if he feared what you might say. His eyes flickered between yours, waiting, bracing. You took a deep breath, your fingers still wrapped around his.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, your voice soft, “about everything that’s happened between us. The pain, the distance… but also, how far you’ve come.” You met his gaze, your heart swelling with the depth of emotion that had been building inside you for months. “You’ve changed, Anthony. Truly. And I can see how hard you’ve worked to prove yourself, not just to me, but to everyone.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched slightly, his brow furrowing as he listened. “I did it for you,” he said quietly, “because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you completely. You mean everything to me, Y/n. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ve regretted it every day since. But I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as his words struck a deep chord within you. He was baring his soul to you but this time, in the privacy of this small, intimate space, it felt even more real—more raw.

You reached up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble on his jawline. “I know, Anthony. I can see that now.” Your voice wavered slightly, thick with emotion. “And I want to give us another chance.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering in his gaze, followed by an overwhelming rush of relief. “Y/n… are you sure?” His hand covered yours on his cheek, his thumb caressing your skin as if he was afraid you might disappear.

You nodded, stepping closer until your bodies were almost touching. “I’m sure,” you whispered. “I want to be with you, Anthony. I want to move forward together. No more walls between us.”

A soft breath escaped him, as if he’d been holding it in for far too long. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I love you, Y/n. I’ve always loved you, even when I was too foolish to realize it. You are everything to me. My heart, my soul… I don’t deserve you, but I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret giving me another chance.”

 

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy, of hope, of finally letting go of the past and embracing the future. “I love you too, Anthony,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Despite everything, I never stopped loving you.”

The moment hung between you, charged with emotion, until Anthony, unable to resist any longer, gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tender, as if he was afraid to push too far. But as your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Years of unspoken feelings, of longing and heartache, melted away in that single, soul-stirring kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together, the weight of the past lifted from your shoulders.

“You’re mine,” Anthony whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m yours, forever.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around you like a blanket. “Forever,” you agreed, your heart full.

 

Years later, the memory of that night remained vivid in your mind, a turning point in your love story. Life had changed for the better, your marriage growing stronger with each passing day. You and Anthony had built a beautiful life together, filled with laughter, love, and the joy of your growing family.

On sunny afternoons, you would find Anthony in the garden, playing with your children—two boys and a girl—who adored their father with all the fierce love you had once felt when you were a child. He was a different man now, a devoted husband and a doting father, and every day he made good on his promise to you.

One afternoon, as you watched from the porch, you saw Anthony scoop up your youngest daughter, spinning her around as she giggled uncontrollably. Your heart swelled with happiness, and you realized how far the two of you had come. The man who once made mistakes was now the man who never let a day go by without showing you just how much he loved you.

Anthony caught your eye from across the garden, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. He smiled, his eyes filled with the same love and devotion that had been there that night in the alcove, when you decided to give him another chance.

And you knew, deep in your heart, that it had been the best decision you had ever made.

[revelboo]

Ooooooooh... I usually don't have many thoughts about prowl, just never paid much attention to him, but your posts make it so hard to feel normal about him I think you've awaken something in me, help!!!

He’s pretty fun to write as a jerk

Stand Too Close Pt 3

Prowl x Reader

• Like a sparkling sulking, you’re avoiding him and that’s fine. There’s always reports to work up, his task list a living thing that’s always growing. Except he can’t focus, rereading the same paragraph over and over. It’s the silence, he realizes in frustration. Somehow he’s gotten used to the soft sounds of you wandering about on his desk being a nuisance. Touching things just to annoy him. How did you become white noise that he needs to focus? Shoving up from his desk, he vents. How far could you have gotten?

• Only halfway listening as Bumblebee talks about a potential energon mine to two other Autobots, you lean into Bee’s hand to savor how warm he is. And there’s no angry tension here. Unlike the jerk you’d been stuck with, these guys seem to be friends. Joking and laughing. Occasionally remembering you and asking a question so you’re involved in the conversation. Listening to them, your thoughts turn unwillingly to Prowl. There’s never any other Cybertronians coming to visit him. No one joking with him, because apparently it’s not just xenophobia. He’s just a jerk to everyone and they all avoid him. It should be funny, but it doesn’t quite sit right somehow. Always alone. Always angry. Realizing you feel kind of bad for him only annoys you.

• It’s not like he hadn’t known that temperatures optimal for Cybertronians are too cold for humans. He’d heard Wheeljack mention it to Sideswipe once in passing, the young bot pestering for information on humans. Seeming fascinated when Wheeljack mentions that his will curl against him because he’s always warmer than they are, seeking his body heat constantly. You’ve never willingly came to him, though, and he’d not really thought much of it. Maybe the cold hadn’t bothered you. But thinking about it, he has seen you shivering before. Never complaining about it, just glaring at him whenever you notice him watching you. Cold and unwilling to approach him.

• Apparently, you just hate him more than you want to be warm, because there you are. Bumblebee’s laid his arm on the table, palm cupped slightly as he talks to Hound and Trailbreaker. And you’re sitting in the younger scout’s palm, leaning into his servos and his warmth. It shouldn’t bother him, the dislike is mutual and has been since he accidentally clipped you. He didn’t want to be stuck with you and, as you’re so fond of pointing out, he ruined your life. It shouldn’t bother him. Definitely shouldn’t light through him in a furious wash of what can’t possibly be jealousy. Almost absently, Bumblebee curls a servo to stroke down your arm and you relax further in the grip. Expression relaxed, not angry for once. He’s never seen you like that.

• “Bumblebee.” No, not yet. Groaning at that too familiar voice, you look over at the same time Bumblebee does and there’s Prowl, those optics pure ice as he just stares at you in Bee’s palm. “Thank you for watching over the human,” Prowl growls the words, sounding almost like they’re catching in his throat and he’s definitely mad. Fantastic. Fidgeting, Bumblebee looks almost unsure as Prowl holds out a hand in demand. Like he isn’t sure he should hand you over. Sighing, you grab one of his servos to pull yourself up and walk to the edge of the table waiting to be snatched up too roughly, because you made him come look for you. It’s a surprise when he lays his hand down instead, asking you wordlessly to come to him willingly. His expression is still tight with anger when you glance up before relenting. Maybe he just doesn’t want to yell at you here in front of witnesses.

• He flexes his servos as you climb into his palm and sit down so he can lift you. Eyes on his palm, your little shoulders hunch as he begins to walk. “Well?” You ask, sounding tired. Shifting his palm slowly once he’s out of sight of the others, he cups it and your little frame against his chassis the way he’s seen Wheeljack do. You don’t relax against him, though, slapping a palm against him and pushing at him like you think he’s trying to crush you. You really do hate him. It doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t.

Previous

Next

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER EIGHT ━━ Old Times, New Times

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 3.8K

☆ ━ warnings: lowkey like none i think

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i think you guys will hopefully like this chapter

THE BUZZER rings out loudly, signaling the end of the game. The roar of the crowd reverberates through the gym as Hopkins claims their first victory of the season, the scoreboard flashing their win by a significant margin. Paige stands in the center of the court, her breath coming in heavy pants, sweat dripping from her forehead. She’s exhausted, her muscles aching from the relentless pace of the game, but the high she feels is unbeatable.

This, she thinks, this is what she lives for. The rush of adrenaline, the energy in the gym, the way everything just clicks on the court. Basketball is where she feels most like herself—where all the chaos in her mind settles into the steady rhythm of dribbling, passing, shooting. And tonight, she’s played damn near perfect, putting up a stat line she knows will have the local papers singing her praises tomorrow.

But as her teammates rush to congratulate each other, as high-fives and fist bumps fly, there’s a small part of Paige that isn’t fully present in the celebration. A part of her that keeps pulling her back to the student section, where she saw Dani and Beau earlier, clearly mid-argument. How they’d stormed out of the gym together. Her stomach had twisted at the sight, but she forced herself to push it away. Focus on the game, she had told herself. Lock in.

Still, even in the heat of the action, her mind had wandered, wondering what they were fighting about, wondering if it would finally—finally—be the thing that made Dani leave him for good. Paige hates that Dani’s still with him after everything. Beau’s a walking red flag, and she can’t stand the way he treats Dani, the way Dani seems to dim whenever she’s around him.

But Paige can’t think about that now. The game is over, they’ve won, and she can finally let herself breathe.

She heads to the locker room with her teammates, the mood high and celebratory. The sound of laughter and chatter fills the space, everyone buzzing from the win, but Paige moves through the motions automatically. She showers quickly, letting the hot water wash away the grime and sweat from the game. Normally, she’d stay in a little longer, enjoy the post-game rush with her team, but tonight, she feels the need to get out. To clear her head.

Her body is tired, but her mind won’t rest. Thoughts of Dani and Beau—of that argument—are still there, swirling around in the back of her mind like an itch she can’t quite scratch.

By the time Paige is dressed and heading out of the locker room, most of the gym has emptied. It’s quiet now, the sounds of the game and the crowd just a memory. She walks through the empty halls of the school, her footsteps echoing off the tiled floors, and pushes open the door to the athletic entrance. The cold night air hits her immediately, and she pulls her hoodie tighter around herself, letting out a breath that fogs in the chilly air.

She’s ready to head home, eager to get some rest, but as she walks toward the parking lot, something catches her eye.

Dani.

(She always seems to just show up, doesn’t she?)

She’s sitting on a bench just outside the entrance, her phone in her hand, scrolling aimlessly. Paige slows her steps, confused.

She walks over, stopping in front of Dani. “Why are you still out here?” she asks, her voice cutting through the quiet of the night.

Dani looks up, startled for a moment before she shrugs, giving Paige a small, annoyed smile. Not annoyed at her, Paige knows, but at whatever situation she’s in. “I’m waiting for an Uber.”

Paige furrows her brow. “An Uber?”

Dani nods, a frustrated edge to her expression. “Beau left me here. He was my ride.”

Paige’s stomach clenches, and she can’t help the scoff that escapes her. “He left you here? Seriously?”

Dani just shrugs again, like it’s no big deal, but Paige can see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her jaw. She can tell Dani’s trying to play it cool, but Paige knows her better than that.

Paige shakes her head, exasperated. She sits down on the bench next to Dani, her knee brushing against Dani’s as she does. “Dan, you really need to break up with him. He’s such a dick.”

Dani lets out a small, breathy laugh, and when Paige looks at her, she sees the mix of frustration and resignation in her eyes. “I did,” Dani says quietly, surprising Paige. “That’s why he left.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and Paige’s heart skips a beat.

Dani broke up with Beau?

“You broke up with him?” Paige asks, her voice coming out softer than she intended, almost like she’s afraid to jinx it.

Dani nods, looking down at her hands. “Yeah.”

Dani broke up with Beau!

Paige blinks, momentarily speechless. She’s been waiting for this—hoping for this—for months now, but hearing it still catches her off guard. “Um,” Paige starts, a small smile tugging at her lips, “I’d say that I’m sorry but…”

Dani lets out a laugh, real and unfiltered this time, and Paige’s heart swells at the sound. And then Dani smiles—really smiles. That wide, dimpled smile that Paige has known her whole life, the one that can brighten up even the darkest of days. It’s the kind of smile that makes Paige’s chest feel warm and tight all at once, like the sun is shining directly into her heart.

“I’m not sorry either,” Dani says, her voice light but firm, like she’s finally letting go of something heavy.

Paige can’t help but smile back at her, the weight of the moment settling between them. They sit there for a second, just grinning at each other, and for the first time in what feels like forever, things between them feel right. Like maybe they’re finally finding their way back to each other, even if it’s just a small step.

After a moment, Paige stands, gesturing toward the parking lot. “Come on,” she says, her voice soft but insistent. “I’ll drive you home. You’re not taking some stupid Uber.”

Dani hesitates for a second, but then she nods, standing up and following Paige to her car. They get in, the car warm and familiar, and for the first few minutes of the drive, it’s quiet. Paige’s hands grip the steering wheel, her mind racing with everything she wants to say, everything she’s been holding back for months now.

She glances over at Dani, who’s staring out the window, her expression unreadable. And Paige can’t help but wonder how Dani’s really feeling. Breaking up with Beau must be a relief, but Dani’s been so distant lately, so caught up in the mess her life has become. Paige’s heart aches, wanting to ask Dani if she’s okay, if she’s really okay, but she doesn’t want to push.

As they get closer to Dani’s house, Paige feels the question bubbling up in her chest, and she can’t hold it back anymore. “Uh,” she starts awkwardly, glancing at Dani, “do you wanna go get, like—milkshakes or something? Y’know, like how we used to?”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and Paige’s heart pounds in her chest. She knows it’s a risk, asking Dani to hang out like old times, but she misses her. She misses their late-night milkshake runs, the way they used to laugh and talk for hours, the way Dani used to look at her like she was the most important person in the world.

They stop at a red light, and Paige glances over at Dani, her chest tight with anticipation. Dani’s face is hesitant, her brows furrowed like she’s unsure, and Paige’s stomach twists in worry.

“I know you’re scared,” Paige says quickly, rushing the words out, “and for good reason. But your dad doesn’t have to know. And this absolutely doesn’t have to be anything but two friends hanging out. I just—I just really miss you, Dan. You’re my favorite person.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Paige’s heart feels like it’s lodged in her throat. She’s terrified that Dani will say no, that things between them have changed too much. But then Dani turns to her, and there’s that soft, genuine smile again, the one that makes Paige feel like she can breathe easier.

“I miss you too,” Dani says, her voice quiet but sincere. She pauses for a second, and then she adds, “Let’s go get milkshakes.”

PAIGE PULLS into the Steak ’n Shake drive-thru, the familiar glow of the menu boards lighting up her dashboard. She glances over at Dani, who’s quietly staring out the window, and a soft warmth spreads through her chest. It feels so right to have her next to her again. Like no time has passed. Like they’re still the same two girls sneaking out late at night, pretending the world outside the bubble of their friendship doesn’t exist.

Without even thinking, Paige rolls down her window and rattles off their order. “One mint chip shake with extra cherries, and one oreo, no cherries.” She doesn’t need to ask Dani what she wants—she’s known Dani’s favorite shake for years. It’s muscle memory at this point, like breathing. Like basketball.

As they pull up to the window, Paige is already reaching for her card, ready to pay. But out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dani moving too. She glances over and spots Dani holding out her own card, handing it to Paige like she’s going to pay for their shakes.

Without even thinking, Paige lightly bats Dani’s hand away. “Fuck no,” the blonde says, her voice firm but teasing. There’s a smile tugging at her lips, and she sees the faintest flicker of a grin on Dani’s face, too.

It’s always been like this between them—Dani never pays when it’s just the two of them. It’s an unspoken rule, one that Paige has never let Dani break, and she’s not about to start now.

Dani rolls her eyes, but there’s no fight behind it. Paige takes that as a win as she hands her card to the cashier, paying for their shakes like she’s done a hundred times before. When the milkshakes come through the window, Paige hands Dani her oreo one without a word. They fall into the same rhythm they’ve always had—so familiar, so easy, even after everything.

Paige pulls out of the drive-thru, the weight of the milkshake in her hand a comforting reminder of all the nights they’ve spent like this. She doesn’t ask Dani where to go. She already knows.

The streets are quiet as they drive toward the park, the hum of the engine filling the silence between them. It’s not awkward—it’s never been awkward with Dani—but Paige can feel the undercurrent of tension, like they’re both waiting for the other to say something. She knows things aren’t the same as they used to be. Too much has happened. There are too many unspoken words between them now, things they haven’t figured out how to talk about.

But for now, they’re just two girls with milkshakes, driving to their spot like they’ve done a million times before.

When they pull into the small, empty parking lot of the park, Paige cuts the engine and takes a deep breath. The park looks the same as it always has—the swings gently swaying in the breeze, the picnic tables scattered across the lawn, the faint glow of the streetlights casting long shadows over the playground. It feels like a time capsule, like this place has been frozen in time while everything else in their lives has changed.

The chill of the November air hits Paige as she steps out of the car, but it’s the kind of cold she’s used to—the kind that cuts through her hoodie, making her breath visible in the night air. She pulls her hood up over her head and glances at Dani, who’s already walking ahead of her, sipping on her milkshake like nothing’s changed. Paige jogs a few steps to catch up, the gravel crunching under her shoes, and falls into step beside her.

For a moment, it feels like old times—just the two of them, side by side, no one else in the world. Paige’s stomach flutters, a mix of nostalgia and something else she can’t quite place. She watches Dani from the corner of her eye, noticing the small smile on her face, and that makes her heart feel a little lighter. The park, the milkshakes, Dani—everything almost feels normal again.

As they walk, Paige starts to playfully flick the straw of her milkshake in Dani’s direction. It’s subtle at first, but when she catches Dani glancing over with a raised eyebrow, Paige smirks and flicks it again, harder this time. A drop of mint chip shake lands on Dani’s jacket, and Dani laughs, pushing Paige away playfully. Paige grins, feeling a surge of warmth rush through her that has nothing to do with the cold air.

“Really?” Dani asks, wiping the spot with the back of her hand, but her smile is bright, the tension between them momentarily forgotten.

“Hey, I had to do something to get you to laugh,” Paige shrugs, though her grin doesn’t fade. Hearing Dani’s laughter after everything—it feels like a victory.

They keep walking, both sipping their milkshakes, the silence between them falling again but in a way that feels comfortable, like slipping into an old sweater. As they approach the playground, they veer off the path and head toward the spot that’s always been theirs—the platform above the slide.

Paige looks up at it, feeling a tug of memory. Dani broke her arm up there years ago. They’d been daring each other to jump from the platform, and Dani, being Dani, went for it. Paige can still remember the panic that gripped her when Dani hit the ground wrong, the rush to get her help, the way she held her hand the whole drive to the hospital.

Without speaking, they both climb up onto the platform, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. The slide is still there, worn and a little rusted from years of use, but the platform itself is solid. They sit side by side, their shoulders touching, and sip what’s left of their milkshakes, the breeze brushing lightly against their faces.

Paige glances up at the stars, her fingers grazing the worn wood beneath her as she breathes in the cold night air. The silence between them stretches out, but it’s peaceful. For the first time in a while, it feels like they’re both okay with the quiet, like they don’t need to fill it with words just yet.

Surprisingly, it’s Dani that breaks the silence. “This is nice,” she says softly, her voice cutting through the stillness.

Paige turns to look at her, surprised by the way Dani’s voice sounds—calm, thoughtful. Dani stares out at the neighborhood in front of them, the soft glow of streetlights reflecting off her skin. Paige hums in agreement, her eyes tracing the lines of Dani’s profile. In the moonlight, with the cold air flushing her cheeks, Dani looks beautiful—like, really beautiful. It’s not that Dani doesn’t always look beautiful, because she does, but there’s something about her right now that makes Paige’s breath catch.

Dani continues, her voice quieter now. “I… I thought I would feel, like, disgusting or wrong or… whatever hanging out with you. But I don’t.” Her words hang in the air, and Paige can feel the weight behind them. Dani turns to make eye contact with Paige, her eyes soft and vulnerable. “I missed this. I miss us. I miss you. And I’m really sorry that I fucked us up.”

Paige blinks, the words sinking in, and for a second, she doesn’t know what to say. She shakes her head, leaning forward just slightly, her pinky ghosting along Dani’s hand. The touch is small, almost imperceptible, but it’s there, grounding them both.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Paige says, her voice quiet but firm. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Dani shakes her head, her mouth twitching a little like she’s fighting a frown. “My actions did this. It is my fault.”

But Paige cuts her off before Dani can spiral further. “No,” she says, her tone sharper than she intended. She softens it, not wanting to scare Dani away. “None of this is your fault. We got caught in a shitty situation that we didn’t ask for.”

Dani’s gaze flickers away, like she’s not ready to accept that, but Paige can’t let her carry that weight. She can see it in Dani’s eyes, the way her lips press together in thought. There’s a sadness there, a self-doubt, etched into her features like something permanent. Paige hates it.

“Dan, you’re the best person I know,” the blonde murmurs, voice low. “This wasn’t you.”

For a second, Dani doesn’t respond. She just stares ahead, her milkshake abandoned beside her. Paige wonders if maybe she pushed too far, said too much. But then Dani opens her mouth to speak again, and Paige watches her blink rapidly against the wind.

“You… you say that,” Dani whispers. Paige thinks she sees her eyes swimming, the brown glistening with tears in the moonlight. “But all I ever feel now is wrong. They said they would fix me, but I’m still just as big a problem as I was before.”

Paige’s heart clenches, a dull ache spreading in her chest as she watches the tears gather in Dani’s eyes. She hates hearing her talk like this— hates the crack in her voice, the way she looks so defeated. Paige shakes her head, unable to hold back the frustration bubbling up in her.

“No,” she says firmly, her voice steady even though her insides are twisting. “You’re not the problem, Dani. You never were.”

Paige sees Dani bite at the inside of her cheek, seeing the indent, the Callan girl’s lips pressed into a tight line like she’s struggling to keep the flood of emotions at bay. Paige reaches out, her fingers brushing against Dani’s hand, softly interlocking their fingers. The touch is light, hesitant, but it’s enough to get Dani’s attention, her gaze slowly shifting back to meet Paige’s.

“They didn’t fix anything because there’s nothing wrong with you,” Paige continues, her words deliberate, each one meant to chip away at the knives Dani’s carved into herself. “You don’t need to be fixed. Dani, I promise you, you’re perfect.”

A tear slips down Dani’s cheek, followed by another, and Paige feels the weight of everything Dani’s been holding inside—the fear, the guilt, the shame that’s been festering. Dani’s shoulders tremble as she wipes at her face, her breath shaky as she tries to hold it together, but the dam has already broken.

“I don’t feel perfect,” Dani says, her voice cracking, and the raw vulnerability in her words hits Paige like a punch to the gut. “I feel different and terrible and I just—I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Paige tightens her grip on Dani’s hand, her fingers threading more firmly through hers. “Dan, you’re still you,” she whispers, leaning in slightly. “You’re still the same girl who made me laugh so hard I peed my pants that one time in sixth grade. You’re still the same girl who jumped off this platform and broke her arm just to prove a point. You’re still my favorite person. None of that has changed.”

Dani’s eyes meet Paige’s again, full of doubt, full of hurt, but something in them softens at Paige’s words. For a moment, it feels like the weight on Dani’s shoulders has lifted, even if just a little. She opens her mouth to say something, but the words seem to catch in her throat. Instead, she just trails off, staring down at their intertwined hands.

Paige watches Dani’s face, the way her brow furrows with stress, the tension visible in every line of her body. Without thinking, Paige shifts her hand, her thumb brushing lightly over Dani’s fingers, and then over the back of her hand. It’s such a small gesture, but it feels huge in the space between them—like a bridge connecting them after all the distance that’s been there for so long.

Dani glances down at their hands, her gaze lingering for a second before flicking back up to meet Paige’s eyes. Something shifts in the air between them—something delicate and fragile but undeniable. The words that were on Dani’s lips die, and for a second, everything just stops.

Paige’s breath catches, her heart pounding in her chest. She can’t help it—her eyes flick down to Dani’s lips, just for a moment. They’re so close. If she just leaned in…

So she does.

The kiss is slow, almost hesitant at first—barely more than a soft press of lips against lips. It’s tender, sweet, like the first snowflake that lands on the tip of your nose in winter. It’s not a kiss that’s meant to burn, to ignite anything wild or urgent. It’s soft, a quiet reassurance.

Dani doesn’t pull away. Her lips are warm against Paige’s, and for the briefest moment, the rest of the world falls away. Paige’s mind goes blank except for the feel of Dani’s mouth on hers, their fingers interlocked between them. The kiss is short—just a peck, really—but it’s everything to Paige.

Everything.

When Paige pulls back, her heart pounding in her ears, she opens her eyes and meets Dani’s gaze. Dani’s brows are furrowed again, the stress and conflict clear on her face. Paige can practically see the turmoil swirling behind Dani’s eyes—everything she’s been told, everything she’s been forced to believe, all crashing up against the way she feels right now.

Without thinking, Paige lifts her hand and gently smooths the crease in Dani’s brow with her thumb, her touch light but firm. “Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft as the night around them. She lets her thumb trail down, smoothing the lines of Dani’s forehead, trying to ease the weight of the world from her shoulders. Then, leaning in, she presses a soft kiss to Dani’s forehead.

Dani lets out a soft, shaky sigh, her breath warm against Paige’s hoodie, and then she leans her head against Paige’s shoulder. Paige wraps an arm around Dani’s waist, pulling her in closer, her chin resting lightly on top of Dani’s head. The world outside is quiet—the neighborhood is still, the stars twinkling above them in the crisp night sky—but all Paige can focus on is the warmth of Dani against her, the steady rise and fall of her breath.

They don’t say anything for a while. They just sit there, wrapped up in each other’s presence, watching the world around them. Paige’s fingers trace soft circles on Dani’s back, her head resting gently on top of Dani’s, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige feels at peace.

Eventually, Dani shifts, her voice quiet and hoarse from the tears she’s shed. “Thank you,” she whispers, her words barely audible.

Paige tightens her grip on Dani just slightly, her heart swelling. “Always.”

[fxrmuladaydreams]

say you’re mine (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: with the decision between seb and danny looming over you, you try to distract yourself from your feelings, but something happens that makes your walls fall apart

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! fingering, protected p in v, panic attack, safeword use

notes: omg look! rose FINALLY posted a new pornstar chapter! only two left after this one

prev part next part

The last thing you wanted was for it to become weird between the three of you. Well, weirder than it already was. The awkward air still floated around you occasionally, but your heart still melted in your chest whenever you were with either man.

Sebastian kept to his word, making sure to keep things friendly, but occasionally becoming a little too comfortable around you. An arm would find its way over your shoulders or his head would duck down to your ear as he whispered something to you. His close proximity was addictive, and it made you wonder if he knew the effect he had on you when he gave you a wicked grin.

Yet that all washed away when you were with Daniel. Still playing the doting almost-boyfriend role, he managed to make you forget about the blonde haired German when you were with him. He was all sweet words and affectionate touches. You enjoyed your time with him in his home, bundled up in his clothes, wrapped in his arms.

As much as you wished you could stay like this forever, you knew it was wrong. Someone would end up hurt, heartbroken, all because you couldn’t make a decision between the two.

It all came crashing down soon enough. You had asked Daniel if he wanted to film something. After filming a video for you and nothing for him you figured it was only fair. He was quick to insist that you didn’t have to, that he was more than happy to just keep things the way they were, afraid that filming something would make things awkward between the two of you again, or worse, drive you back into Sebastian’s arms.

He wanted this to go well, to be as perfect as it could be. He opted to film it at his house, hoping it would make you more comfortable being somewhere you were familiar with. He spent the morning making sure everything looked good while he waited for you to come over. He cleaned up the spare room you’d be filming in, he made you some food to eat beforehand, and stocked up on snacks he’d noticed you enjoyed for once you had finished filming.

He felt his heart hammer in his chest when he opened the door for you. He let out a soft hello when you flashed him the smile he longed to be the recipient of, and led you inside.

You ate the meal he’d made you like every other meal you’ve shared together, with bright smiles, bumping shoulders, and a light banter back and forth between the both of you. You helped him clean up once you’d finished eating, then made your way up to the room to film.

“So, uh, I figured we could do this a little differently? I’d like to try to be… softer?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. You see Seb in your mind, telling you almost the exact same thing.

“I like the way you are.” You tell Daniel. You reach for his hand and hold it in yours. “You don’t have to be soft with me Danny.” You tell him.

He knows you’re right, he knows that you can handle him, but when you look up at him with wide eyes, your voice sounding soft as a mouse, he’s still hesitant.

“Are you sure?” He asks you.

You nod. “I’m sure.” Then you lean up to kiss him. You kiss him hoping it’ll block Sebastian from your mind, and possibly ease Daniel’s nerves.

He gives you an unconvincing smile, then turns away to finish setting up his camera. You take a seat on the soft plush bed. You let your eyes travel around the room. It must’ve been a guest room or something. The walls were pretty bare, save for a few paintings scattered around. The dresser had a candle on it, as well as a small succulent. The drawers you’re sure were empty.

You remember the conversation you had with Daniel the first time you were at his house. He so badly wanted to fill his home with life, to have people that he loved and cared for with him. That could be me. You think to yourself. You could easily see yourself staying here with Danny, sharing a life together, turning his home into a shared space for the two of you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Daniel turns back to you. He gently asks if you’re alright, the glazed look in your eyes worrying him.

“I’m fine.” You smile at him. “Come here.” You take his hand and softly pull him down so that he’s seated next to you. You cup his face and press your lips to his.

The kiss starts off soft and slow, Daniel clearly hesitant in his actions. You take his hands and guide them to your hips. He holds you, his grip becoming tighter when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth.

He’s surprised that you’re so eager to take control, but he doesn’t let you get too far before he gently pushes you down and slots himself between your legs.

Your dress ends up hiked up at your hips, both of you far too eager to pull away from each other to undress yourselves. His fingers tease you over your panties as his lips travel down your neck.

“Getting excited, are we?” You can feel him smirking against your skin as he presses against the growing wet spot on your panties.

“Please Danny.” You whine tilting your hips up.

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely sweetheart.” He pulls your underwear to the side, sliding two fingers in between your folds. “Making such a mess already?” He pulls his head away from your neck to look down at you.

You moan as he pushes his middle finger inside you, followed by his ring finger. He tries to hold his own moans in as he feels you clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet bunny.” He curls his fingers up, brushing against the little spongy spot in you.

You arch your back, and reach down to grab his wrist. “I need more Danny. I need you.” You whine.

He nods, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean. It’s indecent, the way he softly moans at your taste as his eyes flutter closed.

He’s pulled away from his you-induced trance when he feels you tugging at his jeans. He chuckles as he watched you struggle with the button and zipper, practically tearing them and his boxers off of him.

“Alright, alright, just lay back sweetheart.” He leans over to the edge of the bed and shuffles around in a drawer. He holds a condom in his hand when he’s kneeling back over you. You’re quick to grab it, tearing it open with your teeth and rolling it onto him.

“Fuck me.” He groans.

“I’m trying to.” You grin up at him.

He gives you a similar smile, then dives down to kiss you.

This is the Danny you want. The one who’s confident, who isn’t afraid to be a little silly sometimes, who has a heart bigger than anyone else you know.

The first push inside you sends you both reeling. You gasp at the stretch, while Daniel groans at how tight you feel around him. He slowly works his way inside you, getting deeper and deeper with every soft thrust. He stills when he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you a second to adjust.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, attempting to keep his hips still against yours.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need words.”

“I’m good Danny. You can move.” You tell him.

He slowly inches his way out of you then pushes back in, creating a rhythm.

“Faster Danny! Please!” You moan out.

He nods, this time pulling his hips away then slamming them back against you.

The moan you let out is loud, so loud you thank god Daniel doesn’t have neighbors close by.

The room his filled with his grunts and your moans and whimpers. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching. Your hands tangle in Daniel’s hair as you pull him down to kiss you.

He’s panting when you pull away, a crease between his brows, as he fucks into you.

“Danny, I’m close.” You tell him.

“Say my name.” He grunts.

“What?” You ask, surprised by his request.

“Say my name, tell me who you belong to.” His eyes are shut, he’s solely focused on his thrusts into you, that he can’t see the discomfort that settles on your face.

Suddenly it all feels like too much. His thrusts are too hard, it feels like he’s pounding against your cervix.

Your head fills with thoughts of Sebastian. Of the nights you spent together, the meals you shared, the quiet moments in his arms. You can see him in your head almost kissing you again.

Then you see Daniel. You see the life you could have together. The happiness he brings you and the peace he’d give you. You see him in the swimming pool, laughing as he’s drenched from the water.

You can feel your chest becoming tighter, your breathing becoming almost difficult.

“Say you’re mine.” His words sound too much like a command.

“Red!” You practically shout, pushing against his chest.

It’s almost like a flick of a switch, just how quickly Daniel pulls away from you, a soft, worried look in his eyes.

You pull your dress back over your legs, heaving as you try to calm down.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” He reaches out.

You flinch away from his touch.

“I’m sorry, I just- I need to go.” You quickly get uo and rush out of the room.

Daniel follows you, tugging his boxers and jeans back up.

“Y/n, wait, please, we can talk about whatever happened-”

“I’m sorry Daniel. I just- I can’t be here right now, I have to go.” You tell him before you rush out his front door.

You practically run to your car, and speed off down the road. You must be breaking traffic laws, with just how fast you make it back to your home.

You finally take a deep breath once you’re parked. You turn the car off as a shudder runs through you. You lean down and rest your head against the steering wheel, letting out a sob you were surprised you were able to hold in for so long.

[eunsuri]

The Lighthouse

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan

Summary: Lavellan explores The Lighthouse and reunites with her heart.

Word Count: 6,608

Warnings: ANGST. Lots of emotions. Lots of love. VEILGUARD SPOILERS.

A/N: Hi everyone! Happy 2 weeks until Veilguard! This has taken me way longer to write than I'd hoped, but I MADE IT! This was inspired by a beautiful piece of art by @pani-artz, I couldn't resist! I've kept Lavellan's description vague for those who would like to keep their own Lavellan in mind while reading! Also posted on AO3!

“We’re here.”

A cold breeze swept through the crossroads, cooling Lavellan’s skin as she stepped up the stairs, Harding, and Leliana flanking her from behind. The three stood before the Eluvian, the shimmering surface glowing faintly. The ancient mirror reflected the crumbled pieces of the ruins floating within the crossroads, flickering with ancient magic and ready to draw them into another world.

Anticipation stirred in Lavellan’s stomach, her senses heightened and glaring at her warped reflection. The faint glow of the mirror’s surface cast a strange light across the stone floor through the overgrown foliage around its frame, and the chill in the air seemed to seep into her bones. 

Harding and Leliana exchanged glances behind her, but she hardly noticed, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest like a wild creature trying to escape its cage. Harding had seen this Lighthouse before, She knew what lay behind the Eluvian, all the memories hidden in Solas’ base of operations.

Lavellan knew Solas wouldn’t be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, what awaited was everything he had left behind—his memories, his isolation, the echoes of a life spent in the shadows. The thought of stepping into his world, of facing the remnants of his past and the pieces he had chosen to keep hidden, sent a wave of dread through her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for what she might see—for how deeply his loneliness would be etched into every corner of this place

He had stopped appearing in her dreams, no matter how hard she searched the endless distance where he once stood, always watching over her from afar. Even when she reached out, he’d slip away like a shadow, yet his presence had brought her comfort. Night after night, she would speak to him—tell him how much she missed him, how she longed to change his heart. The wolf never answered, but the sorrow in his eyes cut deeper each time, and her desperation to find him only grew over the years.

Now, her dreams were empty, filled with nothing but the ache of waiting for a love that never came. Sleepless nights blurred together as she wondered if he had forgotten her, or if something terrible had happened to him. When Harding had brought news that Solas was alive but trapped in the Fade, it brought a measure of relief, yet doubt still gnawed at her. Would she find any sign that he remembered her in this place, or had she been lost to him as well?

Harding broke the silence, her voice gentle but laced with tension. “It’s… a lot to take in, but I thought you might want to see it.” She paused, then added, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Lavellan’s breath caught in her throat, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over her. Ready? She didn’t think she ever could be. How could anyone prepare to see the deepest, most private parts of someone they loved, but had lost so long ago? 

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She needed to do this, no matter how much it hurt. She needed to understand him in a way she hadn’t before, to see his world, his pain, and his purpose. Where he had been all this time, if he remembered her. Even if he wasn’t there to explain it himself.

Lavellan took a shaky, deep breath and stepped toward the mirror, the surface rippling as she neared. With a final glance back at Harding and Leliana, she stepped through and the two followed.

Emerging on the other side, her breath caught in her chest. The three stepped into a realm bathed in a warm, golden glow, as if suspended in the sky. Floating islands hovered in the distance, each dotted with autumn-hued trees as if kissed by sunlight, gently swaying in an unseen breeze. Ancient elven ruins, crumbled yet graceful, drifted among them, suspended in the air like forgotten dreams.

Before them stood a weathered statue of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, positioned in the heart of the courtyard. It was a figure of a protector—his posture calm, watching over the space with an almost serene presence. Cracks ran through the stone, softened by patches of moss that had claimed him over time, as though nature itself had embraced him. The statue seemed ancient, yet resilient, a symbol of an age long past, guarding the Lighthouse like a silent sentinel.

Beyond the statue, the Lighthouse rose, stretching impossibly high into the sky, its top crowned by a bright magical light encased in a spinning golden roof. The beacon pulsed with an ethereal glow, guiding not only the lost but also wandering spirits seeking refuge. The golden accents that decorated the Lighthouse shimmered in the sunlight, long streams of green fabric dancing in the wind.

Lavellan marvelled at the beauty and serenity of the place as she continued towards the entrance of the Lighthouse, carefully stepping down the broken staircase. The large door opened as the three approached, allowing them to enter the towering building.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the faded murals stretching along the pathway, their muted colours leading into the centre of the Lighthouse. Each one told a story—Solas’ time in Arlathan, his stories of rebellion, and the ancient history of the elves, including the tale of the Evanuris' downfall.The images on the walls, the stories painted into the stone, all reflected the weight of millennia. 

Murals she had seen variations of before caught her eye, depicting Fen’Harel freeing slaves and removing their Vallaslin, as he had once done for her. Another told the story of the Evanuris’ rise to power and their tyrannical ways, with Fen’Harel’s outstretched arms attempting to show them they were not truly gods.

The Dalish legends she had grown up with had taught her to fear the Dread Wolf, to tread lightly lest the trickster god hear her footsteps. But now, knowing him as she did—not as the villain in their stories, but as the man who had fought to free his people, the man she loved—her heart was torn. The fear remained, lingering like an old scar, but it was now tangled with love, understanding, and sorrow for what he had become.

Lavellan wandered through the Lighthouse, her steps slow as she absorbed the surroundings. Relics of a world long lost lay scattered around, each one steeped in both history and longing. The air felt thick with memories—some sorrowful, others sacred—echoes of a time far beyond reach.

She found herself in a large room that appeared to be underwater, giant framed glass windows as a barrier between the water, with many schools of fish swimming through the depths. A lone green leather sofa was situated in the middle of the room, stuffed bookshelves lined the walls, and an array of candles scattered across the floor creating a cosy warmth that drew her in. 

It was then that a soft flicker of candlelight against brilliant colours drew her gaze to a mural, its glow pulling at her like a distant memory. A set of candles was arranged on either side of the mural, almost as though it were a shrine. As she made her way towards the artwork, her heart sank deep into her stomach, a heavy weight settling in her chest.

The painting depicted a woman—one hand raised high, a radiant burst of green light pouring from her palm, the other clutching a sword close to her chest. Below the hilt, the familiar mark of the Inquisition gleamed. It was her.

The weight of this realisation struck her in an instant, chest tightening with disbelief, an ache settling deep as sorrow wrapped itself around her heart. Her likeness, immortalised in these ancient halls, was a reminder of what she once stood for, of the time they shared and the distance between them now. 

Her fingers traced along the lines of the mural, imagining the strokes Solas had made, his hand dragging the brush across the stone with care. Every detail, every line, told her this was more than a mere addition to his collection of stories. This was crafted with love. He had painted her not just to remember her, but to hold onto her presence, as though each stroke was a vow to never let her fade from his memory.

Tears pooled along her eyelashes. She didn’t know whether to feel honoured, heartbroken, or both. Every detail of the mural seemed to call out to her, each brushstroke a whisper of what had been, what was lost. Slowly, Lavellan’s gaze fell to a small wooden box resting beneath the mural, its presence unassuming, as though it had always been waiting for her.

Hands trembling, she reached for the box, dragging her fingertips along the warmed wood, and gently lifted the lid. Inside, nestled among the old wood, lay Solas' jawbone necklace. The one he had always worn. Lavellan paused, inspecting the familiar necklace before  reaching to lift it from the box. The sensation of the cold bone and thick rope looped around it was almost foreign, yet the weight of its meaning was still heavy.

As the jawbone rested in her palm, memories surged through her mind—fragments of what they once had. She recalled how she’d often tug him closer by the necklace, his lips moving against hers, fervent and desperate, as though her touch were the very air he breathed. She remembered idly tracing the rigid texture of the necklace as she lay against his chest, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breath as he shared quiet stories of the Fade. Each moment felt as tangible as the cool bone now in her grasp.

She could no longer hold it with the same warmth she once had, but the connection to him, to their shared past, lingered still. The weight of the jawbone in her hand felt like a lifeline to the man she had been hunting for all these years. Desperate to keep that feeling close, she gently lifted the necklace over her head, letting the familiar curve of bone rest against her chest. It settled there, and for a brief moment, she felt as though she had him with her again.

Lavellan clutched the bone in her hand while blinking away the lingering tears which threatened to fall at any moment. As she moved forward, every step felt heavier, unable to shake the palpable sense of solitude that hung in the air. This place, with all its beauty, was not just a refuge for spirits. It was a place of mourning—a sanctuary for Solas’ lost hopes, where his memories whispered through every crack in the stone, and his loneliness lingered like a shadow.

Further in, a large dining table sat in the centre of the room. The long wooden surface stretched out before her, grand and ancient, yet only a single place setting lay at its head—a lone plate, a single cup, and neatly arranged cutlery beside them. An ache squeezed in her chest at the sight. This table, large enough for a gathering, bore only the quiet signs of one man’s solitary meals. Solas had sat here alone, day after day, surrounded by memories and ghosts of his old ambitions. 

She couldn’t bear the thought of him there, sitting quietly, the vast emptiness echoing through the room as he contemplated the burden of his mission. He had been so steadfast, so determined, yet the loneliness had seeped into every corner of his existence. How many nights had he sat here in silence, the weight of his choices pressing down on him, thinking that this was the only choice he had.

The simple setting was a stark reminder of everything he had left behind for his mission—companionship, love, the simple joys of shared moments. The pain choked at Lavellan's throat and the tears she had fought streamed down her skin as she took in the sight. She rested a hand on the back of the chair, picturing him there, staring into the distance across the table, as he grappled with the weight of millennia. He had shut everyone out, even those who would have fought beside him, and in doing so, had consigned himself to this eternal isolation.

Lavellan stood still by the table, the weight of her thoughts pushing down on her shoulders like a storm cloud on the verge of breaking. Her sadness gave way to a simmering anger that twisted deep in her chest. How could he have left her—left them—like this?  If only Solas had confided in her—trusted her with his truths. If only he had let her share the burden that had twisted his path into something unrecognisable. Things could have been different; they could have faced this together. She could have stood by his side, helped him bear the weight of his cause, find a better way, and maybe, just maybe, spared them both the pain of this isolation.

The thoughts of what could have been pierced through her, sharp and unyielding. How different would their lives have been if he hadn’t pushed her away, if he hadn’t shrouded himself in secrecy and left her to chase shadows for years? Heavy and unrelenting regret settled into her bones. They could have shared this—this fight, this journey. She had loved him enough to stay, to fight for him, but he had locked her out, too consumed by his purpose, too afraid to burden her with the truth. 

Her fingers curled into her palms, hands clenched at her sides, frustration clawing its way up her body as she thought of the pain he had caused—his actions had left Varric wounded, with the false gods free to wreak their havoc upon the world. He had condemned himself to isolation, convinced he was sparing her the pain when, in truth, he had only deepened the wound.

Maybe he had been too proud, too wrapped in his conviction that he had to bear this weight alone. He hadn’t let her love him the way she could have. If only. If only things had been different. If only he had trusted her.

Lavellan’s thoughts were then interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. She wiped at her eyes hastily, straightening her posture as Leliana appeared at the doorway.

“They’ve returned,” Leliana spoke softly. “Rook and the others are back.”

Lavellan turned, her heart still heavy from the weight of her reflections. Without a word, she nodded, following Leliana out of the room and towards the group that had gathered in the main hall.

There was more to it now—she’d learned that Rook had formed a connection with Solas. A tether, almost, caused by the disrupted ritual. She had to know if there was a way, some hidden thread she could pull to reach him herself, to bridge the distance between them once more. 

A spark of determination tingled through her skin. If Rook had found a way to connect, perhaps she could too.

Later that same evening, with the sharp sting of her discoveries still fresh in her chest, Lavellan found herself standing in the Fade. 

Rook had spoken of how they had become connected to Solas through the ritual gone wrong, their fates intertwined, and Lavellan had seized upon that fragile link. It was all she needed—a thread, however thin, to follow him.

With Varric’s warning in her ears and Solas’ necklace warm against her skin, she stepped forward, stumbling through the dark and desolate landscape of the Fade. The twisted remnants of broken elven statues loomed around her, their cracked surfaces glinting dully in the ethereal light, like forgotten memories trapped in stone. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt magic, a bitter tang that clung to her tongue, tainted by a ritual gone horribly wrong. 

As she moved, the ground crumbled beneath her feet, each step sending a shiver through her body as she navigated the uneven terrain. She could feel Solas’ presence—distant, yet unmistakable—like a flickering flame in the depths of her mind, pulling her forward despite the air of despair that settled around her like a shroud. Echoes of lost voices whispered through the stillness, their lamentations brushing against her ears, urging her to keep searching in this forsaken place.

She had worked so hard to find him over the past ten years, constantly reaching for him in her dreams only for him to slip away like a fading memory. Her relief at hearing he was alive warred with the anger gnawing at her heart. He had stopped appearing in her dreams, and for so long she had feared the worst—afraid he had been consumed by his mission, or worse, by his pride. Yet here he was, trapped in the Fade, perhaps lost in his own way.

The thought of him being trapped, cut off from everything, pulled at her heart. Just as she had found him again, he was suffering. But that grief mixed with a simmering anger. He had hurt Varric, who had only been trying to stop him from making a terrible mistake.

Her steps quickened, the greyed path through the Fade twisting and bending as though it were alive. She remembered Varric’s words—how he had tried to stop Solas, how Solas, in his struggle tugging at the lyrium dagger, had let it go too far. The thought stung, reopening the old wounds that had never fully healed. He had hurt someone they both cared about. Had it been an accident, or had his obsession with his plan blinded him to everything else?

It was then she saw him. Solas stood at the edge of the platform, his presence powerful and untouchable like a distant star. His eyes caught hers with a knowing look, as though he had been expecting her all along. 

His strong stance wavered ever so slightly, a near imperceptible shift. Somehow, he was even more beautiful than she remembered. He was draped in dark leather armour that hugged his frame, his broad shoulders embellished with gold which decorated his chest as well. His face remained sharp and regal, though it now carried a colder edge. The weight of his millennia-old burden clung to him, as heavy as the Fade around them.

The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through her, but it was quickly swallowed by the bitter pang of nostalgia and regret, memories crashing over her like an ice cold wave. Lavellan’s voice faltered, the carefully rehearsed words slipping from her grasp, lost under the crushing gravity of his presence. For countless nights, she had imagined this moment—each conversation, every plea, practised over and over. But now, as he stood before her, all those thoughts scattered like dust, leaving her speechless.

“Solas.”

Her voice trembled with the only thing she could utter, a raw mix of anger and longing breaking free. Lavellan felt the years between them collapse. The sorrow, the love, the pain, and the anger—it all surged forward, overwhelming her in an instant.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Solas’ expression remained guarded, though the tension in his jaw and the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. His lips parted, as though he might speak, but the words died unspoken on his tongue. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken history.

Lavellan’s heart raced as she struggled to steady her breath, emotions crashing over her: love, anger, and grief all vying for control. She wanted to scream at him for the pain he'd caused—to her friends, to her. She wanted to demand answers, to weep for his loneliness, for how lost he had become. But she also longed to run into his arms, to hold him so tightly he could never leave again, to feel the warmth of his lips, to taste the love they once shared.

Across the distance, Solas silently soaked in the sight before him. Amidst the boundless darkness of his prison, his heart stood before him once more. A dull ache crawled from his chest into his throat as he noticed how time had touched her. Soft lines had etched themselves across her skin—subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone but him. She looked exhausted, as though the years had been heavy, yet her beauty had not faded. Her eyes still held the same fire, the same brightness that had captivated him. 

His gaze fell to her arm, the gleam of metal catching his eye—her prosthetic. The sight of it twisted his heart into a deep, bitter knot of guilt. She had lost her arm because of choices he had made. Though removing it would save her from an untimely end, her connection to the Anchor would have consumed her had the arm remained. However, that knowledge offered little comfort. 

It was because of him. she had been marked in the first place, that she had been forced to bear that burden, to lose part of herself for a cause that had never truly been hers to fight. He carefully swallowed the pain in his throat in an attempt to mask the surge of sorrow that threatened to break through.

For a heartbeat, the distance between them seemed insurmountable and never ending. Yet the connection they had forged so long ago, deep and unshakable, remained—like a tether drawing them together even now. 

Solas shifted subtly, searching the depths of his mind for words that could bridge the chasm of time and pain between them. No words could repair the damage that had been done, not a single syllable could undo the devastation he had caused.

“Vhenan…” he whispered at last, his voice rough, heavy with all the things left unsaid. It was the only word he could manage, the only truth left to him, spoken as though it held within it all his love and regret. The word hung in the air like a fragile promise.

The harsh and unforgiving hand of grief gripped Lavellan’s heart at the sound of his endearment. It had been so long since she had heard the word leave his lips, and yet it was the same—soft, full of meaning. She placed one foot in front of the other, taking a tentative step forward, her fingers brushing against the jawbone necklace, grounding her in the reality of the moment. The memory of their love flooded her, the fluttering which overwhelmed her belly when he would call her his heart, mingling with the anger that still smouldered in her chest.

“What have you done, Solas?” Her voice cracked through her cutting words, the accusation spilling through her lips before she could bite her tongue. “You stopped coming to me. You were…tearing the Veil apart, and then Varric—” She swallowed hard, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “You didn’t stop. You hurt him, and now… the false gods are free and ready to destroy this world.”

Her words were sharp, biting, but beneath the anger was the raw, unspoken truth: she loved him. She always had. And seeing her proud, cunning love like this—trapped in the cage of his own creation—cut deeper than any wound she had ever known.

Solas’ eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head bowing beneath the shameful weight of her words. When his eyes found her again, there was a subtle flicker in his gaze—something raw and aching, a depth of emotion she couldn’t quite define. Regret, perhaps, or something far more tangled and broken. 

“It was not supposed to happen this way,” he murmured, voice thin and weary, as if even the admission pained him, the words almost too heavy to continue. “I had a plan. The ritual, I was moving them to another prison. But Varric interfered, he disrupted a dangerous ritual. I did not intend for him to get hurt.”

The flame in Lavellan’s eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling as the words tumbled out without a second thought. "Varric was our friend, Solas. You’ve gone too far. He wasn’t aware of your intentions. He tried to stop you, tried to make you see reason, and you—" She faltered, the pain caught in her throat reducing her voice to a weak whisper. 

Though Varric still lived, his fate was uncertain, the magic from the lyrium-infused dagger weaving through his veins unpredictably. Her dear friend had only wanted to help—and yet, he had paid the painful price for it. 

The hardened resolve in Solas’ eyes wavered, his brow furrowing with the slightest shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he uttered, the words quiet, but laden with everything left unspoken. 

“That’s all you have to offer? After everything that’s happened? After all this time?” Lavellan’s words sliced through the air, her voice was low yet biting. Her fingers curled in, hands tense at her sides as her frustration simmered just beneath the surface. 

She was torn between the depth of her love and the hot flame of her anger. She had missed him so achingly—every day without him was a quiet torment—but now, seeing him like this, the one she’d loved so fiercely, all she could feel was the cold sting of his absence, the ache of betrayal. He had left her, and worse, he had hurt Varric in his reckless pursuit. 

And now, after everything he had done, he stood there with regret etched into his sharp features, yet offering nothing more than a simple apology. She could see the remorse in his eyes, he meant it, but it wasn’t enough—not after everything. She longed to reach out to him, to close the distance between them, but the wound was too fresh, too raw. How could she bridge the gap when all he had to offer were those meagre words?

“Nothing can change what I have already done,” Solas sighed, the sound long and weary, as though carrying the burden of centuries. 

“I know,” she replied, her voice trembling with the heaviness of her admission. “You can’t undo what’s been done… but you can still do better. You can still choose differently.”

Solas studied her, his expression unreadable for a moment, though the gravity of her words seemed to hang between them. "Better choices do not erase what has already been set in motion," he spoke quietly, his tone almost resigned, as though he carried the inevitability of his fate like a burden.

“So what, you'll just let the world fall apart because it's already in motion? You think destroying this world will somehow lead to salvation?” Lavellan began, her voice cold and cutting. Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching as she took a hard step forward. “The elven people you’re trying to save? There’ll be nothing left for them if you don’t help us stop this madness now.” 

Her words hit him like a sudden gust, rattling the walls he had built around himself. For a moment, his defences collapsed under the truth of her words. But then, almost instinctively, he pulled them back up, his expression hardening as his gaze held hers.

”'Did you come only to scold me, Vhenan? Or is there more you wish to say?”

Lavellan’s breath quickened at his response, the fire in her eyes dimming for just a moment as his question hung in the air. The silence between the two stretched, filled with all the things that had never been said, all the pain, all the longing in their time apart. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, struggling to speak past the heaviness of her own heart. 

"There is plenty I wish to say. But in truth, I came because—" She managed to murmur, the words catching in her throat. Her feet moved before her mind could stop them, stepping slowly towards Solas. "Because I was worried about you. Because I wanted to see you." Her voice was raw, as if speaking the truth aloud burned at her tongue. "Because…even after everything I—"

Solas’ head tilted ever so slightly, his expression softening as his furrowed brows relaxed, and for a fleeting second, something in him seemed to break. The unspoken bond between them, ever-present and undeniable, pulled at him once more. He reached out, almost as if drawn by the force of her words, but stopped himself just short.

He wanted nothing more than to hold her close to him and never let her go again. To let every thought spill from his lips and confess his love for her as if it were the first time. The warmth of her presence was only growing closer as she stepped further in his direction, her beautifully intoxicating scent stirring memories of their past together. He craved her fiercely—the softness of her lips, the feel of her smooth skin beneath his fingertips, her lovely voice whispering words of love that echoed in his heart.

But the shrinking space between them felt like a chasm born not only of time, but of all the hurt and chaos he had left in his wake. He didn’t deserve her. Not after his failure. Not after what he had done.  He couldn't bear to drag her into the darkness of his journey, a path that he believed would only lead to death. She deserved so much more than the ruins of his mistakes. 

He imagined the weight of his choices suffocating her, dimming the light that had always drawn him in. Yet as she drew nearer, he could feel the pull of her more acutely, as though the Fade itself conspired to draw them together. The ache of her absence, the torment of his own regret—none of it could dampen the magnetic force that still lingered between them.

"You should hate me," he spoke quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. "After everything I’ve done. All of the pain I have caused."

Lavellan had closed the never-ending distance between them, the air around them thick with an intensity that took her breath away. Her already racing heart quickened, emboldened by a sudden rush, a defiance against the pain that had lingered for far too long. With a trembling hand, she reached for him, her fingertips brushing against his cheek. The connection was electric, sending shivers through her, reigniting a fire that warmed her very core.

In that moment, all his carefully constructed walls began to crumble, melting away beneath her touch. She could see the tension in his shoulders ease, the weight of his regrets momentarily lifting. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, a fragile intimacy that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

It had been years since they last stood face-to-face, their encounters reduced to her lone whispers in her dreams. Each night, she yearned for the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his touch, imagining the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his voice calling her name. The ache of separation had clawed at her heart, and she knew he had felt it too—a longing that transcended the boundaries of their worlds. 

"I tried," she confessed, her voice heavy with emotion, barely above a whisper. "I tried to hate you, but I can’t, Vhenan. I could never."

Solas’ resolve crumbled even further, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes undeniable. “I never wanted you to see what I’ve become. I do not deserve your forgiveness,” he pushed further in a weak attempt to suppress the overpowering love that threatened to consume him. 

“I know you cannot change what you have done,” She began through her breath, gently placing her prosthetic hand against his armoured chest and meeting his eyes directly, as though reaching into the depths of his heart. “But I see you, Solas. I see the burden you carry, I’ve seen what you hide in your Lighthouse. It hasn’t changed the way I feel about you.”

Her touch unravelled him completely, cutting through the barriers he had so meticulously built to keep her at a distance and protect her. For all the power that pulsed within him, he was utterly powerless before her. His breath was hitched in his throat, his senses overwhelmed and intoxicated by her nearness. All words escaped him, and instead, he clutched her prosthetic hand to his chest, his knuckles brushing the delicate skin of her cheek, drinking in the moment as if it were the last.

The space between the two vanished, the long-forgotten warmth of each other’s touch easing the ache of a lifetime apart. Starved of the love they had once shared, the air around them grew heavy with anticipation. The energy between them hummed, drawing them closer with each breath, until their eyes flitted shut, surrendering to the inevitable pull of their connection.

“Vhenan…” Solas found his voice once more, before the thread which held him together finally snapped and his lips found hers.

The kiss, at first tentative, quickly deepened as the years of distance, longing, and unspoken words melted between them. It wasn’t gentle; it was desperate, filled with the ache of years apart, with the pain of betrayal and the hope of forgiveness. Lavellan’s hands instinctively reached for him, fingers curling against the cool, textured surface of his armour as if he might slip away again, as if this moment might vanish like a fleeting dream. His hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her closer still, like a drowning man grasping for air.

Solas trembled against her, the control he had so precisely maintained for years finally unravelling in her embrace. Every heartbeat, every breath shared in their kiss spoke of the time they had lost and the memories they had clung to in the dark. 

He clutched at her waist, tugging her impossibly close, as though she might disappear if he allowed any distance open between them. The taste of her lips—familiar and sweet—sent a rush of emotion surging through his mouth and into his heart, blooming with love. It was a taste he had dreamed of, mixed with grief, regret, and the bittersweet recognition of all the time they could never reclaim.

For Lavellan, kissing him felt like breaking the surface after endless years submerged in sorrow. She had imagined this reunion, longed for it in her loneliest moments, but nothing could have prepared her for the rawness of it now, the intensity of feeling his warmth, his breath, after so long. Her lips moved fervently against his, as if she could anchor them both in the present, as if this kiss could hold them together while the world threatened to crumble around them.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as their spirits reached for one another, desperate to bridge the chasm of all that had been lost. The air around them shimmered with the intensity of their emotions, the soft crackle of magic lingering like static electricity. Tears mingled between their lips, and Lavellan found herself unsure if they were born from her own heartache or Solas’ sorrow. 

When at last they reluctantly parted, it was only enough to breathe, their foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. The warmth of Solas’ skin contrasted with the coolness of the Fade around them. His fingers brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear, his eyes searching hers with a mix of reverence and sorrow, as if committing her face to memory all over again.

“I have missed you,” Solas admitted through a trembling breath, his voice fraying at the edges, each syllable thick with longing and vulnerability. “Every moment, I have missed you.”

Lavellan’s heart stilled at his confession, the pain she’d carried for so long softening, giving way to a quiet joy she had scarcely dared to feel. It was real—his yearning, his regret. He had missed her, and in hearing those words, a wave of warmth rushed through her, filling the hollow space his absence had left behind, like sunlight breaking through a dark, heavy cloud.

“As have I,” she whispered, her voice a breath, an ache. “I love you, Solas.”

The distance between them vanished once more as she closed the space with her lips. An electric tangle of desperation and love crackled in the air, as if they could pour every stolen moment of the past ten years into this one kiss. She breathed the words against his lips— Ar lath ma. I love you, I love you, over and over, with each fleeting pause for air. One hand gripped his broad shoulder as though holding onto the thread of the life they might still have together, while the other skimmed gingerly across his sharp jaw, the cool metal of her fingertips shooting a shiver down his spine.

As their lips moved together, she tasted the faint remnants of the Fade on him—like the bittersweet tang of twilight and the warmth of embers long extinguished. The air was thick with unspoken promises, Solas’ scent enveloping her, an earthy blend of ancient forests, fragrant herbs, and a whisper of magic that felt both familiar and achingly distant. Her heart raced, a wild drum echoing in her ears, as she felt the world around them fade into insignificance. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, entwined in a dance of love and longing, the taste of their shared past lingering sweetly on their tongues.

Solas drew a tight breath, his lips forming the words in return, “Ar lath ma, I love you,” each confession fragile and tender, as if speaking it aloud made the moment more real. His hands cupped her face with reverence, fingers tracing the contours of her skin as if rediscovering her all over again, as though he needed to believe this wasn’t some fading dream. She was truly here with him, loving him still, despite all that had come between them. And with each kiss, each murmured promise of love, he felt the final crumbling of the walls he had built to protect himself from this—this undeniable truth that she saw him, truly, as he was: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. And still, she chose him—Solas.

Warm, fresh tears streamed down his cheeks—tears of relief, not of sorrow, and for the first time in an age, he felt lighter, the burden of millennia softening in her embrace. 

Lavellan’s fingers traced the familiar lines of his face, feeling the tension in his jaw slowly release. She caught her breath, pressing her forehead gently to his once more, letting the moment wrap around them like a fragile cocoon, holding them together.

They no longer needed words. There was no need for promises, no talk of what came next.

For now, they were simply here—together.

Solas’ hands held her tightly against him, as if memorising every curve of her, grounding himself in her presence, in the warmth of her body pressed to his. He drank in every bit of her, enraptured by the way her eyes sparkled with the tears she had shed. There was no one more beautiful, in body and spirit.

The world beyond them faded into the abyss—no ancient gods, no torn Veil, no crumbling ruins. Just the rhythmic sound of their breaths mingling between them, the quiet beat of their hearts within their chests, steady and sure. For so long, he had dreamed of this, and yet the reality of it was more than he could have ever imagined.

Lavellan clutched him closer, as if to say all the things she couldn’t form with her lips, as if to tell him that here, in this moment, she chose him—not Fen’Harel, not the Dread Wolf. Just Solas.

And as they stayed there, lost in each other, neither knew how long the moment would last—only that, for now, it was enough.

[servicpop]

CURRENTLY VIEWING : slightly obsessive deliquent oc x good student male!reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤbandaging up your (almost) bf adrien after a bad fight!

✙ warnings — mention of violence / blood / slight homophobia / slight suggestions of stalking or obsession

notes ,, first actual writing post... hope you guys like it "

Adrien and you lived two worlds. You were a model student, perfect in every way, whereas Adrien was nothing but a deliquent who skipped all his classes and failed all of his subjects (except for sports). If you two were so different, how did you end up together?

It started with an exchange of glances when you both started your first year of being a senior, somehow your presence was never known by Adrien until that one glance turned into never ending eye-contact, briefly smiling at eachother as you two met eyes from across the courtyard. His heart felt like it was about to crumble whenever you smiled at him. Your lips, your perfectly imperfect teeth shining at him. He had definitely fallen for you.

But how would his friends feel if they knew he was crushing on another guy?

As much as he wanted to hide it he couldn't. Everytime he went home and sat down in his chair, he would be welcomed with your face in the form of printed pictures stored in his top drawer. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it, you were so attractive you reeled him in like a fish. But somehow. Somehow. You and him talked more and more, exchanged numbers, hung out a few times and even brushed hands once! Adrien for sure didn't wash his hand after that. You weren't confirmed to be dating but it sure seemed like it.

And that was the start of Adrien's fall for you.

It was around 5:00pm, the sun still shining brightly but casted a slight orange hue into the empty council room, indicating that sunset would near. You were currently in said room, sorting the books, cleaning the tables, finishing off the work your teachers assigned you because you were such a good student. Yeah it was nice for them to rely on you but to be honest, all you wanted to do was go home but alas you couldn't.

Almost as if the universe pitied your unbearable boredom, the door to the council room clicked opened. At first you thought it was a teacher, but turning around you met the deep eyes of Adrien. His soulless eyes bore into yours, his knuckles dripping with blood as he stumbled into the room, almost collapsing on the couch.

"Got into another fight," He grumbled, his deep sultry voice reverberated in the room. Shit, his voice was hot. Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly rushed over to him, viewing his bloody and bruised knuckles. It looked bad. Probably from beating the shit out of someone but you wouldn't question it. After some rummaging around you finally found the first aid kit, clicking the white box open before kneeling down infront of Adrien, a small smirk plastered his face.

"You don't have to you know? I just wanted—" Adrien's voice was cut out by a sharp hiss as you applied the alcohol to his wounds.

"Let me be a good friend to you."

Ooh... friend? That hit Adrien straight to the gut

"I just wanted company."

"Then your not allowed to hold my hand with those bloody knuckles."

"..."

"please bandage my fingers."

A wholehearted chuckle left your throat as you fished out the puppy patterned bandages around his knuckles, making sure you kissed each and every knuckles after. Just to make sure that there was no lingering pain of course, not because you two were had something for eachother or anything. You looked up at Adrien to see a small smile on his face, he was always so serious looking and whenever he smiled it was usually the shit eating grin type of smile. You had only really grown closer with him for a few weeks now so... why were you already hooked on him?

"You lost in thought?" He asked, snapping you out of your little trance. You shook your head, and he brought your chin up to meet his in a light kiss, his calloused fingertips gripping your chin lightly while his other hand found solace in your own. It was something straight out of a romance movie, his warm fingers against yours, his lips against your soft ones in such a gentle kiss. You never knew deliquents could be this gentle. Pulling away you wiped your lips and tugged your hands from Adrien's. You weren't dating him. You can't do this. You turned your head a pout adorned your lips, "Don't just casually kiss me," you huffed.

"But I know you liked it." Adrien hummed.

extra notes ,, I didn't have a full goal for what relationship reader and Adrien would have but i really liked the enemies to lovers sort of denial trope. I also experimented with the colour coding of the text, I find it easier to identify when they're speaking but let me know your preferences! I'm a bit nervous posting this since its my first time ever posting on tumblr but yeah! Also no smut yet, still getting warmed up you know

[residenthughes]

slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, no mention of y/n

summary: any day spent with barzal is always good, especially sundays.

notes: a little something i wrote when i should have been sleeping, oops! may write a longer version, may not but i'll definitely write up something else longer for barzy, as well as some other fics that i've started and am very excited to share, hehe! as always, hope this finds u well and that you enjoy this small ball of fluff. much love! <3

oh! forgot to mention, this post is inspired by this post by @novelbear! they spoil tumblr rotten with such adorable prompts! :)

Sundays are your favourite days of the week. The normal anxieties that creep in from a long lived weekend cease to exist in your timeline, a day defined by slow sweetness and sacred serenity. This year you’ve really lucked out with said day, most of Mat’s games scheduled another time and on the off chance he has practice, it’s before you can even pry yourself from the comfort of your cloud-like mattress. This is one of those Sundays, where you’re tucked away in citrus scented sheets, fast asleep as Mat presses a tender kiss on the bridge of your nose before he goes off to do what he does best, leaving you to emerge from your cocoon whenever you please.

You decide shortly after Mat departs to desert the covers, arranging them neatly with a sleepy pout set onto your puffy lips before starting your share of morning chores. Amidst the array of bits and bobs you cater to around your cosy home, you cook up a breakfast built for two - piping hot and ready to eat by the time Mat’s car pulls up the driveway. 

You drape your arms lazily around his nape, beaming a lovesick grin as you peck your long-time lover. “Good practice?”

“Great practice,” he breathes against you, minty fresh with the faint waft of his accompanying cologne. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer, your body snug in his embrace. “But I’ve got better things waiting for me right here.”

His large hands cup a handful of your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze that involuntarily makes you jump against him, your cheeks crimsoning. “And to think, that’s the thanks I get for making us breakfast.”

Mat releases his grip as you back away, disbelief washing all over his sculpted features as he gives you a cocked eyebrow and a petty laugh. “Says the one who-”

Your hand comes up, an index finger raised. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Wordlessly, Mat holds his hands up in surrender, brazen-faced as you send him an eye-roll with crossed arms. Despite the circumstances, your hands find the top of his zipper, opening up his coat before you hang it up near the door in perfect routine. The selfless action still warrants one of your favourite kisses from your boyfriend, kisses from side-to-side - a kiss on the cheek, nose and cheek again. A simple action but one that robs you of all oxygen, a lightness in your limbs and a tingle down your spine. You soon turn around with Mat trailing not far behind as you venture back to your spacious kitchen, settling at the quaint table for two - a single vase rose separating your plates packed with all your breakfast favourites.

Before you have the chance to take your seat at your baby blue painted table, Mat comes up from behind you, cradling you in his sugary embrace as he plants a delicate kiss against your temple, your heart overflowing with the magic of your slow Sundays together. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You hum blissfully, a hand delicate against his stubble-ridden cheek as you simply exist together, limbs tangled as you savour the moment like sand slipping through your fingertips. A quick kiss against Mat’s prickly cheek puts a pause on the moment, your grin giddy as your hand takes Mat’s as you direct him to sit, which he does - no questions asked, fuschia dusted upon the apples of his cheeks.

You fall into perfect routine, your brunch a show that consists of all your favourites: Mat’s cutlery glimmering in the soft rays pouring into the windowed kitchen as he cuts his food, ceremoniously offering you the first bite of his food with the same smitten closed mouth smile that he had the first day he met you. Happily, you accept his generous offer and take a bite, beaming with full rosy cheeks as he swipes the crumbs with such an earnest shimmer in his eyes that it makes your heart squeeze with joy.

Your brunch continues in similar fashion, two enamoured partners basking in the company of another as you bond over a hearty plate of food, time lost in endless dialogues and timeless ‘I love you’s. When there’s nothing but crumbs speckled across your ceramic plates, Mat shoos you away before you can get a protest in, you resorting to sulking on the edge of couch as the sounds of plates clinking together competes with the noise coming from the TV. 

When everything’s said and done, the washing up dried and packed away, Mat shuffles into the lounge, falling into the couch with a grunt as he positions himself as close to you as possible. You can never bring yourself to mind, head falling to his broad shoulder once he’s propped his feet against the hickory coffee table with his arm circling your shoulders. Another kiss atop your head tells you he’s settled and you melt into his side, no objections sounding from your long-time boyfriend as reruns of 'The Bachelor' blare from the TV. If anything, Mat immerses just as much as you. Well, as much as the slightly fatigue man can as his fingers absently fiddle with locks of your hair, the gesture a lullaby that aids your sudden drowsiness that links hands with the warmth emitting from Mat’s body that always fits against yours like a puzzle piece.

Before you’re able to drift away into a shallow slumber, a slumber you both shall share prior to your simple plans for the day, Mat’s sleep-laced voice calls out to you. 

“Waking up next to you is the best part of my day.”

And you chuckle softly because of the simple fact you know this to be true - evidenced in the way affirmations of love fall so easily from his lips, in the way he never allows you to walk near any busy roads and buys you flowers just because. And, best of all, when your precious Sunday comes and goes, your Monday view consists of your beautiful boyfriend as you reverse out of your driveway, a sleepy smile mellowed into his features as he sees you off, hollering one and the same line wishing you a great day at work, which is nothing but granted if you’ve got him by your side. 

[velvrei]

for jay from descendants, i want a smut bc he’s so scrumptious- sooo him and reader have been fwb for at least a month, and one day after jay’s tourney game it feels different? SMUT PLS LMFAO tysm i’m in luv your writing 💋

omg YES i’ve been wanting to write for him, also if your request hasn’t been posted yet i’m going down the line! sorry for the wait <3

benefits

pairing: jay x reader

fandom: descendants

summary: jay & the reader are friends with benefits but one day after tourney everything changes

warnings: smut, switch!jay if you squint, oral (m receiving), pet names, somewhat pda, no sex but it’s still filthy

nsfw below the cut .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

usually jay wouldn’t see himself as much of a sexual guy. that was, until he met you.

when you were first introduced to him, by ben, there was obvious chemistry. he was the “bad boy from the isle,” while you were the “good girl from auradon,” (which wasn’t true at all) but you couldn’t help but notice how he got nervous whenever you entered a room. he was basically head over heels for you.

there was even one time, where you overheard him masturbating and he was saying your name. that was what got you.

so that quickly turned into something, flirting, and teasing each other. then you both discussed it one night after mutually masturbating with each other, and you both agreed to become friends with benefits.

you were sat at his tourney game realizing how far you both had come, literally.

you watched in awe as he scored the game winning goal, making you smile as he was lifted up by his teammates and the whole crowd started cheering.

the group carried him into the locker room, cheering, and your smile stayed displayed on your face.

a couple minutes later, you felt a nudge at your shoulder, turning to see evie.

“i saw you staring at him. the whole game.” she spoke with a giggle, wrapping her arm around you. you rolled your eyes and smiled, “he’s hard not to look at. i was just watching the game.”

evie scoffed. “whatever you two got going on, friends don’t look at friends that way. go convince him! the worst that could happen is that he rejects your offer and you continue fucking occasionally.” evie laughed.

you smiled at her, “okay, fine.” you quickly ran to the locker room and made sure all the other guys were out. jay was the only one in there, you could tell, he was humming a deftones song as he washed his body.

you watched, trying not to giggle as you slowly started took off your clothes. you were fully undressed as you walked over to him and he turned, saw you and jumped.

“you almost gave me a heart attack!” he spoke with a laugh, holding his hand over his heart. “why are you in here!?” he whisper yelled, remembering where he was.

you smiled, “you won, jay, i’m here to celebrate. remember what i said earlier?”

jay felt his cheeks get hot, remembering what you said. “that if i won i would do whatever you wanted me to?” you nodded and wrapped your arms around his chest, hugging him and gently placing your lips onto his.

“what’s it gonna be, captain?” your words made him smile, and immediately get hard, “i don’t know, maybe you should kiss me first.”

as cliche as he sounded, you could never resist his touch. your lips smashed onto his, his hands roamed to your waist, using his hands to apply force and push you against the wall. he was always more aggressive when he was hornier.

your tangled your fingers in his soft, raven hair, smiling into the kiss as tugged and he gasped into the kiss, then moaned.

you slowly pulled your lips away, earning a small whine from him. he stopped and watched as you slowly got onto your knees. “baby…” he trailed off, as if he didn’t want you to.

you shushed him, “don’t even start, love. unless you don’t want me to…” you started to slowly stand up. he stopped you.

“no, please do. i just don’t want you to feel like you have to. that’s all.” he spoke. his words made you smile.

he watched as your face changed, and you smiled, completely changing your whole demeanor.

his mouth fell slightly open as you spoke, “baby, i like pleasing you. especially when i get to hear those pretty sounds you make. gets me wet every time. fuck my throat. do whatever you want to me.” his hips practically buckled as you spoke. he rested his head on the shower wall, “fuck, okay.”

he tried not to melt as he felt you run your tongue the underside of his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes as he swore loudly, his voice slightly louder than before.

you moved your tongue along his tip many times until his hips stuttered, “fuck. i’m sensitive, please,” his pants only made you more eager to tease him.

jay wasn’t normally one to beg, but when it came to you, and he was extra horny, he loved letting all his filthy little words fall from his mouth.

“be patient, baby.” you spoke. your hand gripped firmly, very slowly pumping his cock. his slit was leaking with precum, he was already so worked up by you.

he watched carefully as your lips wrapped around his tip, you kept pumping him but this time at a faster pace. “fuck, feels so good,” he managed to mutter along with his whimpers and pants.

you started to bob your head on him, resisting the urge to moan as he moaned. the realization was sinking in. the hot guy in front of you, was moaning and whimpering because of your mouth. you couldn’t imagine anything hotter.

he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, he was already a moaning mess and she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. he had a thing for being dirty in public and he also just loved the sight of you on your knees for him.

“keep stroking it while you suck it baby… i’m so close, fuck.” his voice was almost slightly high pitched, the whine he let out after added the affect.

you bobbed your head faster before holding your head at the base of his cock. he practically lost his breath, “oh fuck, you want it don’t you.” he said, throwing this head back. he moved his hands to the back of your head and held it there, keeping him at the back of your throat.

he started thrusting his dick in and out of your throat, practically using you as his way to release. “i’m cumming, oh my god!” his whine sent shivers straight to your core.

he held your head as he came tensing up before he shivered and loosened his grip after his high came to its end. you swallowed all you could, a few drops leaving your mouth and washing away with the water into the shower drain.

jay was still out of breath, shivering as he realized what just happened. “are you okay? did i hurt you? i’m sorry-” he immediately began to ramble, realizing how much his arousal took over.

“that was so hot,” was all you said as you stood up. jay sighed and watched as you just smiled at him, no sign of hurt or discomfort in your expression.

he pushed your wet hair behind your ear, “are you sure i didn’t hurt you?” he used his other hand to softly lift your chin.

you shook your head, “no, my love. i actually enjoyed that.”

jay sighed and stepped out of the shower. he grabbed your clothes and handed them to you before he got dressed himself.

when you were dressed, he turned to you with a grin.

“how about you let me take you out on a real date?” you could tell he was nervous, his hands were shaking, could’ve been from the breathtaking orgasm he had not even two minutes ago, he was still out of breath, and when he tied his towel around his waist he failed twice before actually tying it.

you smiled, ready to tease him again, “are you asking me that because of the blowjob or because you like me?”

jay rolled his eyes, “because i like you, y/n. you know you don’t always have to be so difficult and demanding.” as he finished his sentence his towel fell down once again.

you couldn’t help but giggle, “well, you seem to like it when i’m demanding, you were moaning at my words not even 2 minutes ago.” you slowly walked up and him and ran a hand through his hair, “handsome boy.”

his dick hardened immediately as he watched her walk away. “goddamnit, y/n!”