#how strange it feels to want and be wanted

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓕𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂

​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇵​​🇪​​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇱​​🇾​ ​🇧​​🇴​​🇽​

𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐇𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲!𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐇𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲!𝐉𝐉 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙹𝙹 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕.

cw | smut, swearing, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, unprotected p in v, choking, fingering, squirting, fighting, mentions of blood, oral (male receiving simultaneously), threesome (<- rafe and jj don't kiss - sorry 💋), anal, spanking shower sex, name-calling

𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓻: 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓮𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂 𝓼𝓸 𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮-𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 💕🩷

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The air at the rink was crisp, carrying the faint scent of ice and sweat. Rafe stands on the opposite side of the boards, his helmet hanging loose from the blade of his hockey stick. His eyes stay locked on the beautiful figure gliding effortlessly across the rink.

You move gracefully, shifting like water, making everything else disappear. You leap and bend, turning like a top—fiercely athletic, leaving him in awe.

He couldn’t look away, not even if he wanted to.

The sound of your blades carve into the ice, rhythmically, unlike his own. It wasn’t just your skill that had him in a daze. It was your sheer focus, the ease with which you did the effortful, effortlessly. It was how you smiled when you landed a jump he couldn’t even begin to compute.

“Holy shit…”

“I know, right?” Rafe responds, JJ’s words hitting him like a slap. He blinks his blue eyes a few times, his head snapping to the left. His teammate stands next to him, his chin resting lazily on the butt of his stick, staring at the same figure skater with addled eyes. Rafe exhales, realizing he’s been holding his breath. He drags his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “Fuck, man. She’s somethin’ else, huh?”

JJ doesn’t respond, too consumed with watching you. Your body turns into a triple toe loop in the air, executing it flawlessly. Rafe looks back at you, feeling a strange mix of admiration and the sting of something else as he catches onto JJ’s mutual desire for you.

“No way she goes here–” JJ mumbles dreamily.

“Nah, I haven’t seen her around campus,” Rafe replies, his voice a little tighter now. He follows your movements on the ice, eyes scanning the sheet, knowing you’d be stepping off any second—his pulse quickens, hands clammy inside his gloves.

The door swings open beside them; a few of their teammates spill onto the ice before you can even get off. They lose you in the crowd, looking around big bodies as they move toward the door themselves.

When the boys fan out of the ice, the skater is gone. Rafe’s eyes scan the arena, catching JJ's search as well, making him more frantic. “Who are you lookin’ for, bud?” Rafe snips, making JJ scoff in disgust.

“Nobody,” JJ answers, letting his lips curl in a smirk.

“You’re such a bitch, dude,” Rafe cracks disgustedly, shoving JJ against the boards.

“I’m a bitch…” He points his gloved hand at his chest, cocking an eyebrow at Rafe. “Comin’ from you, that means shit,” Maybank laughs as he shakes his head.

“The fuck does that mean?” He asks as he slashes him tauntingly with his stick, making JJ throw a punch, nailing Rafe’s arm.

“You know exactly what that means–” JJ's voice trails off as he watches you round the arch of the rink, walking toward the two of them, skimming through your phone. You look up, smiling at the two of them.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, but the words get lost somewhere between his brain and tongue. JJ steps forward, tripping slightly on his own skate blade, muttering a rushed, “Uh, hey,” before Rafe can get a word in.

“Hi,” you giggle and tilt your head slightly in amusement, looking up at the two men in passing.

Rafe clears his throat, forcing himself to recover, catching your attention. You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes again. “That was… Umm. What you were doing out there was amazing,” he praises.

“Yeah, seriously,” JJ adds a little louder, not to be outdone. “Olympic level, shit. You’re probably the best skater I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” Rafe’s eyes narrow on JJ before returning to you. “I couldn’t do that if I tried.”

Your cheeks warm up at their sweet words. You turn toward them, taking a step closer, making them both blush. “Thank you–” You drag out the word, hoping they’ll fill in the blank with their names.

The names come out in a jumbled mess as the two boys speak over the top of each other. JJ slaps Rafe in the gut with his glove annoyedly, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Rafe Cameron,” Rafe repeats himself with a smile.

“I’m JJ,” he jumps in. “JJ Maybank. And you are?”

You introduce yourself, the sound of your name leaving your lips seemingly making the burly boys swoon. Rafe’s pulse quickens as he watches you smile up at his teammate. “Do you skate here often?” Rafe asks.

“No,” you shake your head and smile, “I go to Harvard… They didn’t have any ice time–”

“Harvard?” JJ questions.

“Mhmm… Just borrowing your ice—”

“You busy tomorrow, sweetheart,” Rafe cuts in, catching you off guard. JJ’s lips tightened, brows furrowing as he looked over at his teammate, frustrated with the forwardness he wished he had at that moment. “We have a game if you want to come. I can put some tickets aside for you.”

“Your game?”

“Yeah,” they both say simultaneously, causing them both to roll their eyes in frustration with each other.

“It’d be awesome to have you there,” JJ smiles as he turns back on the charm.

Their coach's whistle rips through the area, tenseing them both. “Cameron; Maybank. Ice, now!”

“I’ll think about it,” you smile as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, still smitten despite their awkward delivery. You walk away from the two, your figure skating skirt teasing them with each step. The two boys stand back in a daze, watching you until you fall out of sight.

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉

“So,” JJ asks, breaking the silence as he tosses a tennis ball lazily, catching it in his hand as he feigns nonchalance. “What’s the move here?”

Rafe flicks his wrist, stickhandling the ball on the carpet as he does the same. Rafe chuckles and shakes his head before looking over at JJ. “You mean my move, yeah?”

JJ snorts in annoyance. “Didn’t say that. Fix your fuckin’ ears, bud.”

“Why is this complicated, huh? I walked out of the locker room first. I saw her first–”

“By a second,” JJ mumbles.

“And?” Rafe asks as his annoyance builds, his stick blade snapping against the puck a little harder.

“Calm the fuck down, Cameron,” JJ taunts as he throws the tennis ball across the room, whizzing by Rafe’s head, making him flinch before hitting the wall, bouncing back to him.

The boys fall silent, focusing on their distractions in hand, trying to mind-read what the other is thinking.

Rafe drops his stick, plopping down on the couch across from JJ when he sees him take out his phone, doing the same himself— he watches as JJ scrolls aimlessly, with a suspiciously focused expression.

Rafe studies your feed–a mix of professional skating shots, pictures at your university, and sexy shots with your friends from your nights out in Boston. He couldn’t stop— each new photo made you seem perfect.

“You’re stalkin’ her profile, you dog,” JJ mumbles, his eyes still locked on his phone.

“Nah…”

“Nah…” JJ mimics Rafe’s tone, his eyes shooting to him and then back to his phone. “Don’t even try to lie. You got that stupid fuckin’ little look on your face.”

“Fine. Maybe. But you can’t tell me you’re not doin’ the exact same thing.”

JJ shrugs, challenging Rafe with his glare. “At least I own it.”

They sit in silence for another moment, the tension building between them until one breaks again. “She didn’t accept my friend request…” Rafe mutters, his voice just above a whisper.

“Same.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know it’s me–”

JJ cackles and grabs the bill of his hat, pulling it over his face in exhaustion with Rafe. “How many Rafes do you know, man?” JJ sneers before letting out a sleepy yawn. “Stupid fucking bitch ass kook ass name,” JJ grumbles just above a whisper.

“You good?” Rafe laughs.

“Never better, Rafe.”

Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance, continuing to flip through your account. “We don’t even know if she’s comin’...”

“True… You DM her?”

“No,” Rafe says firmly, shooting JJ a side-eye. “Did you?”

“Nope,” JJ’s reply comes out quick and unreadable.

“You’re lyin’,” Rafe scoffs.

“You’re projecting.”

“Big word for you, Maybank,” Rafe chuckles cruelly.

And the truth is, they’re both dying to text you. They knew it was risky—that it would come off as desperate at the very least… as if they weren’t.

Rafe taps his thumbs against the edges of his phone, nerves rising. Fuck it, he thinks as he opens Messenger anyways, shooting his shot.

Rafe: hey its rafe. Just wanted to say it was really nice meeting you earlier. I’m just wondering if you give lessons? Askin for a friend.

He hits send before he can think about it anymore, throwing his head back in instant regret, wishing he would have said something else.

Across the room, JJ’s doing the same thing.

Hey, it’s JJ. I hope you’re havin a great night. I don’t think we mentioned it but the game starts at 8 tomorrow if you're still thinking about it. Hope you can make it

Both boys sit back in their respective spots, trying to act casual. “So,” JJ hums after a moment, turning his head to watch TV, “what are you workin’ on over there?”

Rafe throws his hand behind his head, lounging a little more into the couch. “Doin’ the discussion board for English–”

“Fuckkk,” JJ groans as he picks up his phone, doing the same. ‘Same’, meaning triple-checking to see if you responded to his message or not.

His eyes widened on the screen as he sees the announcement for one new message.

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝓀𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓎 𝓇𝒾𝓃𝓀

The buzz of the game is electric–a sea of maroon and gold–all packed in the bleachers. The student section’s alive with fans, but Rafe only has eyes for one person. You were there, just like you said you’d be, casually dressed in a sweater and jeans, and he swears he’s never seen anyone more beautiful.

Rafe skates onto the ice for warm-ups, forcing himself to focus, but it’s useless. His eyes drift from the game to you. You smile at him, making his heart skip a beat.

“Goddamn, dude,” JJ snaps as the boys nearly collide, his tone teasing but laced with venom nonetheless. “Watch where you're goin’, huh?”

“Please…” Rafe huffs.

“Woah… Look who’s here,” JJ smiles, pointing at her playfully like it was some kind of personal victory.

Rafe’s grip on his stick tightens. He glances toward you again, catching the way you giggle and smile at your friend, hoping you’re saying something about him.

When Rafe turns back to JJ, he sees the same thing mirrored in his teammate’s face. The boys stand there for a moment, the sounds of pucks hitting the boards and teammates shouting fades into the background.

“We’ve got a game to play, Maybank. Focus on that, yeah?”

“Sure, Cameron. You first, huh?” JJ chirps as he passes the puck to Rafe a little harder than usual.

Rafe glares at him, but their coach’s whistle slices through the air before he can retort.

They skate to their positions, consciously trying not to look at you. The first puck drops, both boys know one thing: the competition on the ice isn't the only battle tonight.

The situation took its toll on both; Rafe's focus was broken each time he caught a glimpse of you; meanwhile, JJ’s game was nothing short of reckless in an attempt to impress you. Until it finally paid off, JJ gave the Eagles a 1-0 lead 54 seconds into the third period with a power-play goal, scoring on his own rebound.

The student section erupts with cheers. Rafe glances at the stands, watching you cheer, banging your gloves against the glass, following JJ as he celebrates with his team, feeling a flare of jealousy burn in his chest.

After that, Rafe played like a man possessed: sharp passes, clean footwork, calculated shots until he scored a goal of his own. Of course, the celebration happened against the boards right in front of the student section— Rafe riding that high until the last possible second.

During the third period, everything came to a head. The teams were playing more aggressively, post-whistle trash talk started to become a little more targeted.

Rafe and JJ’s chemistry, usually the glue holding the team together, began to crack. Missed passes, botched plays, and a growing animosity between them became impossible to ignore.

“Rafe! JJ! Pull it together!” The coach screams from the bench, red-faced and furious.

The rival team starts to notice, too.

One of their forwards, leaning on his stick during faceoff, smirks, “What’s the matter, boys? Trouble in paradise?”

Rafe’s mitts tighten around his stick, his blood boiling at the comment and the fact that he let it get this bad.

“Fuck off—”

“Saw you two bitchin’ at each other. What, you fighting over her?” He nods toward the stands. “Pretty little thing.”

The puck drops, and the action starts again, Rafe quickly scoring on a power-play goal from the slot, adding another point to the board.

Before he can celebrate, he gets shoved from the back, sending both teams into a frenzy. Rafe drops his gloves first, lunging at the forward, his fist connecting with his jaw. JJ was right there with him, shoving a rival defenseman to the ice, yelling something incoherent as the refs blow their whistles, trying to pry the teams apart.

The defensemen shoves JJ, sending him back, knocking Rafe in the process. “The fuck are you doing?” Rafe shouts at JJ.

“Me? What are you doing?” JJ fires back, getting in Rafe’s face. “You’ve been skating like shit all night!”

“You’re the one showboating, bitch!” Rafe shoves JJ back; Maybank uses the contact to send the two of them to the ice. The crowd gasps, and the opposing team watches on in confusion as the coach loses his shit from the bench until the two get ripped apart.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” JJ hisses, jerking his arm free from Rafe's grip.

“I’m embarrassing myself? You hit me first!”

“I TRIPPED,” JJ snaps.

“Un-fuckin-likely,” Rafe spits as the two boys get thrown into the penalty box.

They sit there in silence, glaring at each other before one of the boys from the other team skates by, tapping on the glass with a smirk.

“Yo, what’s her name, boys?”

Rafe bites down on the finger of his glove, pulling it off, giving him the finger as he skates back to the center line.

“This is all your fuckin’ fault,” Rafe mutters, his voice low but sharp as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“My fault?” JJ shoots back, kicking out his skates as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Not my fault you can't find the fuckin’ goal, Rafe”

Rafe snorts and laughs. “Oh? You hogged the fuckin’ puck every chance you got just to show off for her.”

JJ laughs bitterly. “At least I have somethin’ to show off. Got two goals, bitch. You got one.”

“I got two, too, you dumb fuck. Is you’re head that far up your ass?”

JJ laughs wickedly, letting his head fall against the glass. “You’re easily forgettable, man. My bad-”

“Check your fuckin’ ego, bitch. We can go round two in here.” Rafe’s stomach drops, JJ’s quickly doing the same. “Wha-What the fuck?” Rafe stammers. “She’s leaving?”

JJ lets out a frustrated sigh. “Yup. And it’s on you, asshole…” He mumbles as the ref skates over, opening the door.

“Me? Maybe if you hadn’t been such a jealous prick—”

“You’re the one who couldn’t handle a little competition!” JJ snarls, cutting Rafe short as they step back onto the ice. Rafe pokes out his stick, tripping JJ slightly as he skates back toward the bench. “Do that again. I fuckin’ dare you,” JJ hisses.

“Calm down,” the ref warns as he skates between them, cutting the tension for a moment.

“I’m going after her,” JJ mumbles as he crashes down on the bench.

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “Good luck with that. You don’t even know where she lives.”

JJ looks across the way, smiling to himself. “Actually, I do.”

“What?”

“She gave me her address last night,” JJ answers smugly, elbowing Rafe tauntingly.

“Well, joke’s on you, pussy. She gave it to me, too,” Rafe smiles that same devilish smile, elbowing him back a little harder making JJ hiss out a sharp breath.

“Game on, Cameron.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

“Hopefully, that beaters faster than your skatin’, bitch!” Rafe scoffs as he shoves open the arena door.

“Says the guy who gets lost in a fuckin’ parking lot. Good luck finding her place first, dumb fuck,” JJ fires back before pushing past Rafe, sprinting to his Bronco.

“Fuck,” Rafe huffs, not prepared for a foot race, his dress shoes pounding against the asphalt as he closes the gap between him and his Audi.

Rafe slams his car door shut, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he peels out of the parking lot. It’s a short drive, only a few blocks, but it feels like forever. His ringed fingers twist around the leather steering wheel, anger rising with every red light he hits.

He pulls into the parking lot, muscles tightening as he hears JJ’s SUV screech to a stop; he doesn't even need to look back to know the race isn’t over. Rafe charges to the front door, tearing it open before running to the elevator, rapidly pushing his finger against the up button.

“Ohhh fuck you,” JJ groans as the elevator shuts just before he can reach it, settling for running up the stairwell instead. The elevator crawls upward. Rafe pulls the door the rest of the way open impatiently before sprinting down the hall, watching as JJ barrels toward him in the other direction.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” Rafe growls, his voice low and lethal.

“Out of my way,” JJ snaps, shoving Rafe’s shoulder as he reaches the door.

“Oh, hell fuckin’ no,” Rafe shoots back, grabbing JJ by the arm.

The shoving turned into grappling, the boys wrestling to the floor. “I was here first!” Rafe grunts, trying to pin JJ against the ground.

“Like hell you were!” JJ barks, shoving the bigger boy off him.

The noise echoes through the hallway—shoes scraping, muffled swears, and the occasional thud, so chaotic you hear it from the other end of the door.

Both boys freeze mid-struggle, their hands still gripping each other’s suit jackets when you open the door. They turn to you, seeing you standing there wide-eyed, dressed in a satin robe, stunned and silent.

“Uh…” JJ starts, but his voice cracks as he struggles to his feet.

“We–Umm. We just…” Rafe stammers, releasing JJ as he stands up, combing his messy hair back as JJ fixes his tie.

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest, lips twitching as you fight back a smile. “That was fast,” you say, your voice light and teasing. “You both smell like hockey, you know?”

Their cheeks flush in embarrassment. Rafe hangs his head and nods as JJ looks away–the boys trying their best to collect themselves.

Rafe lifts his head, his pretty blue eyes resting on yours, replaying your words before his face lights up. “You… were waiting?” Rafe asks, his words still breathless from the struggle.

You nod, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah. I figured you’d both get here eventually. Though I wasn’t expecting this.” You giggle, gesturing to their sweat-soaked bodies and disheveled game-day suits.

JJ scratches the back of his neck, glancing at Rafe before looking back at you. “We just… We both just want to–”

“Talk,” Rafe adds, quickly cutting JJ off.

“Talk?” You ask as you quirk an eyebrow. “You just wanted to talk to me?”

Rafe and JJ exchange a look, suddenly at a loss for words. You sigh, stepping back to open the door wider. “Let’s talk then...”

The door closes behind them; Rafe and JJ shuffle in awkwardly. Your space is cozy–warm lighting, a comfy couch, and the faint scent of a vanilla candle wafting through the air.

“So,” you ask as you sit down on the couch. Your robe falls open slightly, showing off your upper thigh, the top swooping low, giving them just a tease of cleavage. Rafe’s eyes fall to a lusty haze, JJ’s lashes fluttering as he swallows thickly. “What’s going on, boys,” you ask through a half-laugh. “What was that about?” You gesture toward the hallway.

“It’s because of you,” JJ says bluntly, though his tone softened. “We both… like you.”

“Both of you?” You ask with a smile.

“I mean… You were talking to us both,” JJ sulks under his breath. “‘Course we do—”

“Look,” Rafe says, “I think we both got carried away. But the thing is… I’ve never met anyone like you.”

JJ nods in agreement. “Same. You’re incredible. I just didn’t expect him to get in the way,” JJ gestures toward Rafe, letting his annoyance bleed through.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mumbles. “We both know who saw her first—”

“You two are impossible,” you giggle. “I mean, I knew you were competitive, but this?” You wrinkle your nose teasingly. “Did I mention you both stink?”

Rafe winced. “Sorry about that, sweetheart.”

JJ looks at you sheepishly. “Yeah… sorry, pretty.”

“Mhmm…” You hum. “And you,” you whisper as you stand up from the couch, walking over to Rafe, watching as his breath catches in his chest. You run your thumb along your tongue before smudging the little bit of blood off his gashed cheek. “You're bleeding. Did you know that?”

He shakes his head ‘no’ and bites his lip, looking down at you with a smile. “Here’s the thing,” you say, your voice quiet as you lean closer. “I didn’t want to pick between you.” You keep your eyes set on Rafe’s as you reach over, grabbing JJ by his suit jacket and pulling him closer.

The boys blink, their heads tilting slightly as their brain plays catch up with the words leaving your lips. “What?” They mumble in unison.

“I like both of you,” you whisper. “I don’t think I could choose. At least… not right now. Are you gonna make me?” You tease.

“N-No—” JJ stammers

“No. Fuck no,” Rafe pushes out the reply JJ’s too flustered to get out himself.

“—But you two just wanted to talk, huh?” You flirter as your fingers toy with the satin bow at your waist, tugging at it.

“Absolutely not,” JJ blurts. His jaw falls slack as the delicate material falls to a puddle at your feet. Rafe and JJ exchange glances, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. “Holy shit, you're serious…” JJ’s voice comes out needy and hoarse.

Rafe let out a slow breath, his mind racing as his eyes fall down your body.

You take Rafe by surprise, pressing your lips against his. As soon as you do, he’s fighting off his suit jacket between messy kisses, the two of you working on the buttons of his dress shirt.

Rafe smiles against your lips as his shirt falls to the floor, quickly pulling you closer, pushing his skin on yours.

You reach over, grabbing JJ by his tie, pushing Rafe back slightly, and just as you turn, JJ’s mouth finds yours. Your fingers scratch into JJ’s damp hair, tugging him closer as he tilts his head, letting his tongue slip inside your mouth as Rafe works on his pants.

Rafe pulls down his boxers and hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you off JJ’s lips and back onto his. His tongue dips in your mouth before sucking off yours. Rafe slows down slightly, letting the rough pad of his finger circle your nipple, making you whimper against his lips.

JJ steps closer, his hard cock brushing against your thigh; his lips find your neck, sucking down harshly as your tongue swirls with Rafe’s.

“Shower... Now,” you mumble as you pull away from Rafe, pressing a kiss against JJ’s lips next.

“Yeah, Princess?” JJ asks, but before he can snatch you away, Rafe takes you into his big arms, picking you up off your feet.

“Start the shower, Maybank,” Rafe hums smugly against your lips as he gets you to himself for a minute. JJ scoffs, rolling his eyes before heading toward the open bathroom door. You scratch your nails into Rafe’s hair as he deepens the kiss, rolling your body into him, feeling your wetness transfer to his hot skin as JJ turns on the shower.

“Hurry the fuck up, man,” JJ mutters as Rafe saunters over, taking his time with you. “Set her down,” JJ snips as the two of you pass through the threshold into the bathroom, making Rafe chuckle darkly–heat already swirling around, the sounds of water pouring out the head and panting breaths filling the small room from your kiss.

Rafe pulls back, looking at you half-lidded, the pupils of his blue eyes blown with lust as he mumbles a simple. “No,” to JJ with a look on his face lets you know he means it.

You lean in, brushing your soft lips against his. “This isn’t gonna work if you don’t share,” you whisper.

“Do I have to,” Rafe hums.

“Yes, you fuckin’ have to,” JJ answers for you, his brows pinched together in disgust.

“I’m listenin’ to you. I'm not listenin’ to him,” Rafe replies as he steps with you into your walk-in shower.

“Share,” you chuckle breathily. Rafe sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, setting you down on the cool tile floor.

You shiver from the chill as you adjust to the temperature; Rafe and JJ’s hands are all over you fast. They alternate between kissing your lips and kissing your neck, handing you back and forth as your hands run down their broad chests, dipping into the divots of their cut abs.

You pull away from their lips, reaching over for the soap. The boys do the same, their slick hands gliding over your curves with ease–toying with your tits, squeezing your ass, teasing your inner thighs, both too hesitant to play with your pussy just yet.

That all changes when your fingers wrap around her cocks, pulling to the tip, making low moans rumble in their throats. Their hands quickly bump into each other, fumbling to get to your pussy first. Rafe smiles against your lips as he takes the win, circling your clit. You gasp against his lip as JJ slaps your ass.

“Co’mere,” JJ hums, beckoning you off Rafe’s lips and onto his. JJ’s hand sneaks between your ass checks, the tip of his finger rubbing over the tight rim of your ass as Rafe stuffs two long fingers in your pussy. Rafe rolls his thumb on your clit, curling his fingers in your soaked pussy.

Your thighs start to tremble uncontrollably, breathing a little quicker as Rafe’s skilled fingers work on you.

Your moan bounces off the wall as Rafe pushes a third finger inside you, quickly sending you over the edge. Your body flutters around his thick digits as you come undone.

He slips his fingers out of your slick cunt, bringing them to his lips before sucking them clean.

“Holy shit,” JJ mumbles in disbelief as his pretty blue eyes follow you to your knees. Rafe looks down at you as well, breathing heavily, his muscular chest heaving with every deep breath.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you look up at them through wet lashes, your fingers ghosting up the bottom of their dicks to the tip just like you did before, this time just inches from your lips, making them both take a step closer in anticipation.

“Is this okay?” Rafe laughs as he repeats your words, his long, thick cock throbbing in your hand.

“Mhmm,” you whisper as you lean closer to him, letting your tongue flick up his fat tip, catching a bead of precum before it can get washed away.

“Fucking perfect, princess,” he mumbles as his lips part, mimicking your own. He belts his large fist in your hair, pulling you closer. You wrap your lips around his tip, making his muscles flex as you take more and more. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Rafe praises as you gag on as much as much of him as you can get.

You bob a few times back and forth on his length as your other hand palms JJ’s balls, rolling them in your slight hand.

You push away, turning your head toward JJ, before wrapping your lips around him. Your hand continues to stroke Rafe’s cock, drawing out deep moans from them both. You curve your tongue around the bottom of JJ’s dick, tracing to the tip before swirling around his crown, making him clutch the tile wall for support.

Rafe grabs your wet hair, pulling you back to him, thrusting into your mouth, causing tears to spring in your eyes, the water from the shower quickly carrying them away as JJ fucks your fist with the same vigor.

Their moans and breathing get louder and heavier, the two men moving closer until you're practically bouncing between the two of them: stroking, sucking, swirling, kissing, until they’re both mumbling orders telling you to open wide.

You lay out your pretty pink tongue–ropes of pearly white cum quickly panting your face and tongue as they finish in succession; one after the other.

The boys breathe heavily, heads thrown back to the ceiling as the water washes away the rest of the mess on your face, you, swallowing the rest.

“Goddamn,” JJ groans in satisfaction as he helps you to your feet, quickly pulling you into a tender kiss. Rafe fingers lace in yours, tugging you to him for the same.

“What do you want from us, baby?” Rafe asks.

His tongue slides against yours as his large hand traces between your thighs, cupping your pussy in his big hand, making you whimper against his soft lips.

“Fuck, Rafe…”

“You make such pretty sounds, princess,” he whispers as JJ cuts off the water.

“I want both of you,” you smile against his lips.

“Yeah… I can feel that,” Rafe chuckles deeply, feeling the silky wetness of your arousal on his fingers. “What do you want, pretty?”

“Yeah, princess,” JJ murmurs as he walks behind you, finding the sweet spot on your neck as his large hands grab your hips. You giggle breathily as the two boys sandwich you together; the heat of their big bodies keeping you warm. “How do you want us?”

“Just like this…” You whisper against Rafe’s lip as you arch your back slightly, pressing your ass into JJ’s hard cock.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks with an airly rasp, speaking to you like he’s living in a dream. “You want me to cum in your pussy?”

“Mhmm–” You mumble. “I want you to cum in my pussy. And you,” you whisper as you reach your hand back, hooking around the JJ’s neck, kissing him over your shoulder. “I want you to fill my ass—”

“—Holy fuckin’ shit,” JJ mumbles under his breath, riding the same high as Rafe.

“Corner of the bed; I’m gonna ride Rafe. And you’re gonna take care of me. Think you can do that, baby?” You ask JJ as your lips brush against his.

“I can do whatever you want, princess,” JJ mumbles as he pulls you into his arms this time, lifting you off your feet.

The three of you move into the bedroom; Rafe reaches for you fast, doing exactly what he’s told.

You straddle his lap, grinding your slick cunt against him as you kiss him deeply.

You jump and squeak as JJ’s large hand cracks down on your ass again, spanking your bare skin hard enough to leave behind a stinging heat that has you aching to be filled.

JJ rubs his large hand over it, soothing the pain as you circle your hips on top of Rafe, driving him insane.

You push Rafe to his back, the man quickly grabbing your wrist, taking your fingers in his mouth, biting and sucking as JJ bends you over slightly, thumbing over your taunt hole just like before, running a line of spit down on your body.

You reach between your thighs, clutching Rafe’s thick cock in your fist, stroking as your lips meet his.

JJ taps his swollen tip against your ass before gliding his dick through your soaked slit, using your slick as lube.

You trace Rafe’s velvety tip around your drooling hole as Rafe looks between your legs, eyes dazed as your pussy swallows him whole. “So fucking wet,” he moans through panting breaths, your eyes fluttering shut as you take him all.

Your nails sink into Rafe’s muscular chest, breasts moving with you as you bounce on his cock. Rafe bites his bottom lip between his teeth, trying his best to keep his eyes on you, fighting to keep them from rolling back.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe mumbles–his voice fucked-out and hoarse–muscular body glistening from the shower still. He raises his hand, pressing it against your stomach, feeling himself work in and out before letting his hand fall lower.

You gasp and moan as his thumb finds your clit, rolling on top as JJ pushes his girthy tip into your tight hole.

“Sh-Shit,” you whimper, feeling your eyes glass with tears at the burn and the stretch, the men pushing your body to the limit.

Rafe wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you down to his lips as JJ spits on what’s left of his cock before gliding the rest of the way in as Rafe swallows your moans and cries.

Your body trembles in Rafe’s arms as you adjust to two men, filling you fully. “You okay, princess?” Rafe asks softly against your lips.

“Mhmm… So fucking good, baby,” you hum, feeling him smile against your lips.

“You like me better,” he breathes, his voice barely heard over your panting breaths and JJ’s. “Don’t you, pretty?”

“Are you gonna tell on me?” You whisper.

“Maybe,” he smiles as he grabs hold of your hips, lifting you slightly before fucking up into your pussy nice and slow.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you mouth as you look down at him. He shrugs teasingly, looking at the space between you, watching the way your wet pussy drips down his rock-hard shaft, running down his balls onto the mattress below.

“Mine,” he mouths back smugly, making you smile; JJ’s none the wiser.

JJ starts to stroke nice and slow, too, wrapping his hands around your body, taking two fistfuls of tits.

The two boys start to move in and out, hitting all the right spots, your pleasure so strong you feel like you could pass out.

Rafe drives his heels into the floor, throwing his hips up into you again and again, the angle making your toes curl, your hands reaching up to grasp JJ’s wrists for support.

“So fuckin’ tight,” JJ mumbles, warm against your neck. He snaps his hips. His toned body clapping against your ass with each stroke, making your vision blur.

The sounds of your pleasure fill the room as they keep a brutal pace, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Your eyes slam shut; body unable to take much more. Rafe grabs your wrists, forcing your hands onto his chest again. He reaches up, gripping your cheeks with a single hand, making your heavy eyes lift open on his.

“I know you’re gonna cum, baby. So am I. Cum with me,” he mutters as their movements get messier and rougher.

“Fuck,” you scream as your body gives way, pussy gushing and pulsing around Rafe’s throbbing length, your climax pulls the boys with it, the two cumming hard, filling both holes to the brim.

You tumble down on the bed, falling into Rafe’s arms as JJ clutches your hips tightly, pushing himself as deep as he can go.

Rafe turns your cheek, lifting your lips to his for a gentle kiss, the two of you breathe heavily together as the three of you come down from your highs.

Rafe smiles in satisfaction, burying himself in your neck, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re mine, princess.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

tags: @rafesthroatbaby | @marleymarleymarleymarley | @chelzaa | @rafesheaven | @nemesyaaa | @starkeysbabygirl | @littlelamy | @cameronsprincess | @lottalove4evelyn | @yasmin-oviedo | @vanessa-rafesgirl | @watchmerora | @rafeslovergirly | @buckybarnessweetheart | @anamiad00msday | @namelesslosers | @cades-outsider | @romaescapes | @starkeysprincess | @lish-0 | @oxpogues4lifexo | @unrealmirrorball | @lilithblackkk | @sleepiibunniiii | @gri959 | @rafesgiirl | @daryldixon83 | @akobx | @hyperfixationgirl | @lhhlver | @rrafeswhore | @slut-4-gojo | @blair-bears-blog | @loveesiren | @rafescorpsebride | @rafegf-real | @alphabetically-deranged | @ariana2saucyy | @rafestoothbrush | @hauntedfawnn | @laniirackssss | @wtfdudesblog | @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account | @jkrafe | @alejstarkey | @rafe-cameronswife | @rafedaddy01 | @st8rkey

dividers | @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[quarterlifekitty]

This post made me start thinking about getting a false positive test with Simon.

You tell him you felt a little strange, your period was late, so you took an at home test, and it came back positive. You know how he feels about fatherhood, so you hasten to point out that these tests can be wrong— so you’ll need to go to the doctor to make sure.

He spends the next week up to your appointment in a haze. All he thinks about is you and what life will be like if you’re pregnant. God, what if you wanna keep it? If he leaves, he’ll be a deadbeat, but what if he stays and he’s a shit father, like his was?

Everything little, every baby aisle in the store, every pram out on the street makes him think. He can’t focus on anything else.

Eventually, he reckons that it’s likely the test was accurate. That he needs to be prepared. And the more he comes to accept it… the more he finds himself excited. The more he wants it. He’s looking up recipes that are good for expecting mothers. What to put in a hospital overnight bag. The pros and cons of formula vs breastmilk. He’s still terrified, but he’s also happier than he thinks he’s been since he got together with you.

So when he gets the news that the test at the doctor’s came back negative, he’s a little gutted. You were excited to tell him— you thought this was saving your relationship, but he doesn’t seem relieved at all…

Tells the lads about it in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability when they’re spending the night in a safe house. Price is smiling and about to give him an eloquent response with relevant advice.

“Jus’ knock ‘er up fo’real then,” Soap blurts out, earning an elbow to the ribs.

[katescorner]

suna "we're just friends" rintaro who's actually in a secret relationship with you, but feels the need to keep it a secret until it gets more serious because he's scared. except the miya twins have caught on, and they have a running bet going for who's going to spill first. atsumu thinks suna would rather keel over than admit to them he's dating someone, but osamu is smugly convinced that his friend's resolve is weaker than yours. so they decide to put it to the test.

it starts off . . . weird. osamu is putting moves on you, and you have no idea what to make of it. he's asking to walk you home and tells you that you should come to watch them practice. he even shoves atsumu out of their usual seat in the cafeteria to invite you to sit next to him. he seems really interested in you, and you don't want to be mean, but you also can't lead him on.

you're too focused on osamu's strange behavior to notice that he only acts this way when suna is around. so you don't see the way your boyfriend clenches and unclenches his fists when he overhears osamu wanting to walk you home after school. you don't hear the huff he lets out or how he slams his locker door a little harder when osamu invites you to watch them play with a well practiced smile. and you certainly don't realize the sheet white paleness that grows on his face when osamu shoves atsumu off the bench to make space for you.

suna doesn't blame you. his friends are idiots and getting on his last nerve. but everything comes to a screeching halt when osamu puts his arm around your shoulder, and suna absolutely loses it.

"we're dating!" it's the closest he gets to yelling without actually, but it's loud.

"damn it!" atsumu shouts, but suna doesn't hear. he practically has tunnel vision, zeroed in on where osamu connects to you.

"we're dating," he repeats through gritted teeth. "so get your grimy slimy spiker little hands—" he stalks over to osamu with surprising speed to knock his hand off of you, "off of my—"

"rintaro," you scold softly, and the twins try not to react when their usually unbothered and finicky middle blocker . . . listens?

"he—you're my—i'm—" he erupts in an aggravated groan and quickly decides to pull you to his side, away from osamu.

suna starts mumbling things under his breath they can't hear. his words are clearly reserved only for you, but the twins watch quietly anyway as you smooth away the worry lines growing on his face from his furrowed eyebrows and press a soft kiss to his cheek that has leaves them dusted in the slightest pink. he's whipped, and suddenly the only thing the miyas could think of was—how the hell did they not notice sooner?

yes i'm a soft lovesick sunarin truther. that man is a simp and i take no arguments

[wendichester]

𐙚｡⋆ 𖦹 .✧˚ chained reaction,

summary. a curse tied you to dean and the resolution is... messy.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 576

The chain glints in the dim light of the bunker, its cold weight resting between you and Dean. The cursed artifact—an ancient, rusted shackle adorned with strange runes—had snapped onto both your wrists mid-hunt, leaving you tethered by three feet of unyielding chain.

“I still don’t understand how this happened,” you mutter, glaring at the chain as you tug futilely against it.

Dean’s jaw clenches as he paces, the chain jingling with every step. “I picked up the damn thing to examine it. How the hell was I supposed to know it’d latch onto us like a damn trap?”

“Because it’s cursed,” you snap. “We’re hunters, Dean. Isn’t not touching cursed objects the first rule?”

Dean stops pacing and glares at you, his green eyes dark with frustration. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess. Maybe next time you can take point and let me know when something’s about to screw me over.”

Your temper flares, but before you can bite back, Sam enters the room, his face a mix of amusement and concern.

“So, good news and bad news,” Sam says, holding an open lore book.

“Just give us the bad news,” Dean grumbles.

Sam sighs. “The chain won’t come off until you, uh… resolve your tension.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the two of you. “It means you have to… make-up―or better yet, make out.”

Dean barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You mean we have to kiss to break it? That’s ridiculous.”

Sam shrugs, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. “That’s what the lore says. The artifact reacts to unresolved emotional tension between people.” He closes the book, giving you both an apologetic look. “Good luck.”

Sam retreats quickly, leaving you and Dean alone in the tense silence.

You glare at Dean, your heart pounding. “This is all your fault.”

He steps closer, the chain pulling taut. “My fault? If anyone’s got unresolved tension here, it’s you.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, though your stomach flips at the heat in his gaze. “You’re the one who—”

Dean cuts you off, his voice low and rough. “Do you really think this is easy for me? Being around you every damn day, pretending I don’t…” He trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Your breath catches. “Don’t what?”

His eyes darken, and his voice drops even lower. “Don’t want you.”

The air between you crackles, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “Dean…”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenges, stepping closer, his boots brushing against yours.

You can’t.

The tension snaps like a rubber band. Dean’s hand cups the back of your neck, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals your breath. You gasp against his mouth, the taste of him overwhelming as your fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer.

The chain jingles as his free hand grips your hip, anchoring you against him. It’s frantic and messy, years of buried feelings spilling out in every press of his lips and every ragged breath.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting, foreheads pressed together. “That enough tension for you?” Dean mutters, his voice rough and uneven.

You laugh softly, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. “I don’t think the chain’s coming off just yet.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, but there’s something raw in his eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to keep trying.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler

[supernatural-ate-my-face]

This lines up pretty well with what Jensen says at conventions. The funny thing is I can see Dean telling himself this while also knowing he's just really a coward. Because it's easier to assume it's the case than have to face how scary the answer would be no matter which way it fell: Oh god, he can't love me. Oh god he just doesn't love me. Oh god he could love me. And so forth, ad infinitum...

I want a fic where Dean straight up says this to Cas's face, and Cas has to be like. 'You thought. I couldn't feel feelings?' Like both offended and appalled and at the same time looking at Dean like, 'I died for you so many times how are you this stupid?? Is it from trauma?'

I'm kidding. Cas would know it's from trauma, but he would still be offended.

PS: In case anyone wants to argue 'no feels for angels,' Hannah was on earth for 10 minutes before she was like TOO MANY FEELINGS MY STRANGE PASSIONS TOUCH ME WITH YOUR WHOLE BODY!! Not to belabor a point.

i really like the idea of Dean fully aware he is not being normal with Cas, that he isn't "just" his best buddy or brother in arms, he doesn't even care cas's in a male vessel, not really, because that's the thing, he's also fully aware that Cas is a divine creature, something so big and abstract that Dean can't even begin to comprehend, so despite needing him, wanting him, he never thinks that having something like that with Cas is even a possibility, that Cas would eventually move on from these two humans he's met because he's literally eons old, so he never tries anything, and then the angel is telling him he loves him and he's sobbing on the floor and UGH

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ CARMEN kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing ⭢ consume (bonus) ⭢ take your mask off

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, more sakura and yn focus on this chapter, angst, flashbacks, guilt, a lot of confusion, over working, mentions of fainting, mentions of not eating, arguments, guilt, alcohol

it had been exactly a week since the girls stayed at the moons' humble home, and things had taken a strange turn, really strange.

yn returned to the dorms a couple of days later, though this time, she didn’t have much of a choice. their comeback preparations were in full swing, and her absence wasn’t an option.

but ever since their visit to yn’s family home, something felt… off. it wasn’t anything anyone could point out directly, but the shift in the air was undeniable. with everyone back together, practicing and prepping for the comeback, the strange energy became even more apparent.

yet, no one mentioned it. it was as though everyone had silently agreed to ignore the unsettling vibe that lingered between them, as if pretending it didn’t exist might make it go away.

no one noticed.

except sakura.

the first thing sakura noticed was how frazzled chaewon seemed after leaving the moon house. she had gone back to grab her phone and returned looking visibly shaken. when sakura asked what was wrong, chaewon brushed it off with a shake of her head.

the next thing she noticed was yunjin. normally the one to eagerly join in on chaewon’s rants about yn, yunjin had suddenly become... quieter. she didn’t even want to hear it anymore, shutting down conversations with comments like, "let’s just focus on this," or, "it’s really not that serious." it was strange, yunjin had always been vocal when it came to their shared thoughts about yn.

well, all of them except for kazuha, sakura thought.

but now, it seemed like yunjin was distancing herself from anything related to yn, actively changing the subject whenever her name came up. sakura couldn’t fathom what could have caused the sudden shift. what happened at the moon house that had made yunjin so... different?

sakura didn’t know where she found the courage, but she finally asked yunjin what was going on with her. the younger girl’s response was short and cryptic, “we’re a group, we should act like it.”

whatever that means.

you see, sakura had worked incredibly hard to get to where she was now, and she continued to push herself every single day. that was her problem with yn.

yn was the embodiment of having it easy. the brand deals, the fans, the love, it all seemed to fall into her lap without much effort. sometimes, it looked like she didn’t even have to try. she just had it, effortlessly shining in a way that made it hard to look away.

sakura liked to call her teruhashi. whenever yn asked what she meant by that, sakura would just laugh it off, shaking her head like it was some inside joke yn wouldn’t understand.

so yeah, sakura felt like she had every right to feel the way she did about yn. everyone in the group had put in years of hard work to get here, sacrificing everything to make it. and then came her—this rich girl whose dad conveniently got shares in the company, who was plopped into the group last minute before debut, only to become the most popular member overnight.

it wasn’t fair.

the room was filled with heavy breaths, the squeak of sneakers against the floor, and the steady rhythm of the music.

"one, two, three, four, all the girls are—"

"sakura, straighten your arms. make sure your lines are clean," the choreographer called out, scanning the group. "actually, all of you— wait, yn, come here."

they gestured for yn to step forward before turning back to the others. "this. this is exactly how you should be doing it."

"can you demonstrate?" the choreographer asked, turning to yn.

all eyes were on her now.

she stood there, unfazed, wearing bedazzled sunglasses so dark it was a mystery if she could even see. paired with baggy pink sweatpants, a top that barely passed as a shirt, more like a bikini top and, of all things, a pair of low moon boots.

what the hell is she wearing? chaewon had muttered under her breath when they left the dorm that morning and how does someone where that and still look good yn did, gosh she was a mess, a mess who was still the best in the room.

she unpaused the music, and immediately, yn started moving.

yn was versatile. no matter what concept was thrown at them, she adapted effortlessly, slipping into each one like it was made for her. sakura wasn’t going to lie, she had to mentally prepare every time they switched concepts, had to push herself to embody something new.

so watching yn do it so easily… it always made her feel a certain way.

like now.

the choreographer clapped after yn finished the part she instructed her to do, “that’s exactly how I want you guys to do it, keep your eyes on yn for now on.”

sakura kept her eyes on yn the whole time, noticing how the girl didn’t seem all that pleased with the choreographer’s praise.

why was that? if it were her, she’d be basking in it.

“yn you can go back, let’s start from the top.”

the rest of practice was a disaster, not in terms of their dancing, but the energy in the room. it didn’t feel like teamwork. it felt like competition.

sakura didn’t just want to match yn’s movements. she wanted to surpass them, but she couldn’t and that was the problem.

sighs of relief filled the room as the girls took sips of water, exhaustion settling in while they packed up their things.

sakura slung her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave, when she noticed something, yn was the only one who hadn’t packed up yet.

she stood alone in the corner, quietly sipping water from the dispenser, as if in no rush to leave.

sakura wasn’t the only one who noticed.

she watched as kazuha’s gaze landed on yn, her brows furrowing as she said something to her. whatever it was, sakura couldn’t make it out over the chatter of the other girls.

her curiosity only grew when kazuha suddenly shook her head, turning away from yn and heading back toward the group.

"let’s go," she muttered, not looking back.

"wait, wait, what’s up with yn?" sakura asked as the rest of the girls filed out of the room.

kazuha let out an annoyed sigh. "she’s staying to practice more. said she’ll be home in an hour, but knowing her, that probably means tomorrow."

"hasn’t she done enough?" sakura scoffed. "she already embarrassed us today. does she even realize we’re supposed to be on the same level?"

if yn wanted to be that good, maybe she should’ve just been a soloist.

kazuha opened her mouth to respond, but she just let out a sigh and shook her head.

most nights, sakura was the first to head to bed or at least the first to retreat to her room.

but not tonight.

it was nearly 1 a.m., and instead of sleeping, she sat on the couch, mindlessly watching netflix, barely paying attention to the time.

she flinched at the sound of the front door creaking open, instinctively pulling her blanket tighter around herself.

she had just finished a horror movie and was already onto the next so this was definitely not an ideal situation.

sloppy foot steps was heard making her furrow her eyebrows until it hit her, yn.

yn came into view, the sunglasses she had worn earlier now gone, revealing tired, red rimmed eyes. an oversized sweater hung loosely over her frame, swallowing her up.

she stumbled slightly as she walked through the entryway, one hand reaching out to the wall for support.

"yn?" sakura called out, her voice laced with confusion.

yn looked up at her, her eyes barely open. when she saw sakura, they widened in surprise. "um..." she mumbled, unsure of how to respond.

“I thought you came back hours ago, were you still practicing?” sakura questioned, yn’s whole body language setting alarms in her head, “how did you even get back?”

“it was one of my family’s drivers. It doesn’t matter what time, it's their job." yn mumbled, her words barely audible as she completely avoided sakura’s eyes.

"that sounds pretty privileged," sakura scoffed, her tone sharp with disbelief.

"it was either that, or I would’ve passed out with no one around to help." yn snapped back, her words laced with frustration.

"huh?" sakura muttered, finally noticing the hospital bracelet wrapped around yn’s wrist. "yn... were you just at the hospital?"

"what does it look like?" the younger girl shot back, heading toward the kitchen without a second glance.

sakura followed her without hesitation. “what? how? why?”

yn opened the fridge and grabbed a cold water bottle. “you know, the usual, undereating, overworking.”

“the usual?” sakura echoed, disbelief creeping into her voice.

yn let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the counter. “why do you even care?”

"because one of my members was just in the hospital, didn’t contact any of us, and then just casually calls it the usual?"sakura shot back, her frustration clear, “why would I not care?”

"because it is the usual. not my fault you haven’t noticed," yn shot back, her voice tinged with irritation. "and why would you not care? because you haven’t before, sue me."

sakura let out a frustrated sigh. "yn... this is different. this is important. this is your health."

yn shook her head, taking another sip from her water bottle. "it really isn’t different. with all the stuff you say about me, all the things you probably think about me, why on earth would you care about this?"

“yn-”

"well, since you’ve gotten me started, I guess I should finish, right?" yn cut her off, taking another sip of water, her movements sluggish like someone trying to sober up. "you know, you were probably the one who hurt me the most." after chaewon of course but she wasn’t going to say that out loud.

sakura furrowed her brow, confusion flooding her expression as yn continued. "I mean, you’re the older, motherly one who takes care of everyone... but you never even batted an eye at me. so, sorry for being freaked out right now by you suddenly caring."

the words hit sakura like a punch to the gut. she felt a sharp pang in her chest, she didn’t know how to respond.

"and when I found out you and chaewon were former idols, I thought, great, I have someone older who can guide me through this crazy industry," yn rambled, her voice thick with frustration. "but I guess I’m just too rich and perfect for that. instead, I had you laughing along with everyone else while old men belittled me."

sakura opened her mouth, but no words came out. it felt like everything yn said was just pouring out, and she was left speechless.

yn leaned further against the counter, taking another sip of water, and sakura couldn't shake the thought, was that even water?

"maybe it’s just me being dumb and craving that mother figure but it was such a shock for me," yn continued, "because when I was at sm, the girls I was with took care of me so well. you know aespa, right? you probably know I was supposed to debut with them?"

sakura nodded, her mind numb, her stomach sinking. guilt consumed her, she felt sick.

“yn-”

"did you also know I was forced out of the lineup because of my father?" yn’s words were laced with venom, and sakura flinched, the sharpness stinging her more than she expected. "I don’t want to be in this group as much as you don’t want me here."

"yn-"

"I have a question for you, unnie," yn said, dragging out "unnie" with a mocking tone. "do you hate me, or is it your insecurities getting the best of you?"

sakura was speechless. yn was right. yn was rich, pleasant, and constantly praised, yet that was just the surface, what sakura had seen from the outside. she didn’t know the full story, but the proof was standing right in front of her.

sakura wanted to be her in some ways, and that desire had only gotten in the way of building a connection with her.

"yn… I-"

"what’s going on?" chaewon’s voice broke through the tension, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stepped into the kitchen. "I heard noise—what the hell, did you just get here?" her words were aimed at yn, who just shook her head, walking past chaewon and down the hall.

sakura’s gaze lingered down the hall where yn had disappeared, her chest heavy. chaewon’s questioning tone snapped her back to the moment. "what happened?"

a lump grew in sakura’s throat as she struggled to find the words. "um, nothing. just go back to bed."

she finally understood yunjin.

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Her Intern

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Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: You get a look into what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Wanda’s temper, but she could never be mad at you.

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), mention of stocks, Yelling if that stresses you out.

A/N: Wanted this to be longer but I’m starting class again on Monday and I’ve had way more work to do than I thought. Hope you enjoy this. I’ve tagged everyone who asked, if you want to be tagged in the next chapter, let me know.

Inspiration

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

The silence in the room made every minuet feel like an eternity. No one dared to speak. You could feel your pulse rise as the clock hand inched closer to the number nine. This morning you had gotten ready on auto piolet, showered and once again put on your wrinkled shirt. You hadn’t bothered investing in any new clothing since you began working with Pietro. The lack of dress code made you feel like it wasn’t necessary, so this was still your most professional shirt. It was the same one you’d worn your first day here, now you worried this would be your last.

Sleep hadn’t come fast last night. You’d stayed up for hours running possible situations and outcomes, planning what you’d say for each one in excruciating detail. But by the time morning came all those preparations were gone from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the memory of Wanda catching you in her office.

She looked so angry.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes and nose, not wanting to cry, not now at least. That could Wait till after the meeting, when you could lock yourself in the bathroom away from prying eyes.

The clock reached nine and the doors to the conference room flung open, Wanda entered leaving the door to slam shut behind her. Everyone in the room sat up straight and turned their attention to the red head, everyone but you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look, instead keeping your head down hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

“Good morning,” Wanda began as she retrieved some papers from her briefcase, “I know I’m taking you away from your work, but I wouldn’t have called this meeting if there wasn’t something important that needs to be discussed.” Her tone was polite, but anger was bubbling underneath. As she finished speaking her eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on you. Wanda faced twitched with annoyance at fact you weren’t looking at her. She cleared her thought before continuing. “Once I have everyone’s attention, I’ll tell you why you’re all here, or better why one of you isn’t.”

You took the hint and slowly raised your head, not expecting to find Wanda staring directly at you, stern eyes softening for a moment before hardening back over. Her words finally reached your brain, and you glanced quickly around table, the other interns seemingly doing the same.

Theo.

Theo wasn’t there. He hadn’t come in with Wanda, which was strange considering how he’d normally be following her around like a lost dog.

“I expect you to already know this, but Westview Paper is the most trusted news sources in the country,” Wanda paced at the front of the room, her voice and posture portraying nothing but power. “We take pride in being able to provide the American public with honest unbiased reporting. So what do you think might happen if an employee threatened that reputation?” She was now stood directly behind you; the room fell so silent you could hear your heart as it raced.

“They would be fired.” The silence was broken by an intern sat across from you. Despite his suit probably being worth more than you all make a month, fit him like a kid playing dress up in his days wardrobe, and he looked like he’d just been caught. Wanda let his words hang in the air for an uncomfortably long time.

“Yes, thank you Jake. They would be fired.” As Wanda moved back to the front of the room her fingers ghosted the nape of your neck, something so innocuous it could have easily been an accident. “Theo had gone behind my back, fed information about stories we were publishing to outsiders, and all to boost his stock portfolio.” Her voice dripped with distain. “He is no longer working here, in fact, he will no longer be working for any publisher this side of the Atlantic Ocean.” She gave her words time to breath, making sure we all understood the gravity of the situation. Your mind went back to yesterday, standing in her office when she came out angrily yelling down the phone, that’s what she was talking about.

“Now I called this meeting as a warning to all of you. You aren’t children anymore, this is the real world, your actions have consequences that go far beyond timeouts, or early bedtimes. So if any of you even think about trying anything that will tarnish the reputation of this organization, I want you to really consider what it means to throw your life away! A life that, I might add, for most in here was handed to them. Dismissed.” With every sentence her voice grew louder, the anger finally bubbling over as she slammed her fits onto the table.

There was a mad scramble for the door as everyone collected their things and piled out the room.

“Y/n, I want to have a word with you.” Wanda called out with a lingering trace of rage. The other interns turned to look at you as you awkwardly shuffled back from the door. Your anxiety was already high and now you truly felt like you were going to combust. It took a moment for the room to clear but once it had, and the door closed you jumped into speech.

“Ms Maximoff, I’m so sorry, Pietro said it was okay, not that it’s his fault, I should have never invaded your privacy like that.” The word vomit just kept coming. “I was just meant to drop off the magazine and leave, I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did. I’m so sorry, I understand if you want to fire me.” With those last words your lip wobbled, and you could do nothing to stop the tears.

Wanda, who up until now had been watching you ramble with slight bewilderment, moved to comfort you. “Y/n. I’m not going to fire you, don’t be silly,” she shushed, placing a hand on your shoulder and motioning for you to sit down, “quite the opposite actually.” You sat down trying your hardest to steady your breathing. “What do you mean?” You asked, wiping your nose with your sleeve before Wanda instinctively handed you a tissue from the box on the table.

“First, I wanted to ask if you were okay.” She leaned in placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Yesterday, in my office, you left so quickly. I was worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Yes, y/n! I was because…” Wanda stopped herself and leaned back in her chair. “Because you are my employee, and I think you have a promising future here at Westview.” You go to speak but Wanda continues, “Which is why secondly, I wanted to ask if you would be interested in taking over as my intern. I can give you some time to think about…”

“Yes!” You blurted out a little louder than expected, your cheeks flushed as you saw Wanda’s shocked expression. “I mean yes Ms… I would… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. It’s just… are you sure you want me?” Before you could start to spiral again, you were brought back to reality by the sound of Wanda giggling.

“I’ve wanted you from the start.” She stood up and began walking to the conference room’s door. “For the position of course.” She added before leaving.

As you sat alone in the room you couldn’t help it as a smile crept across your face. You were going to be her intern! Then the reality of the situation hit you. You were going to be her intern.

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter

[crushpunky]

actress!reader helps drew rehearse a scene

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off this ask <3

“‘Their lips touch hesitantly, they pull away, then they continue intensely. It looks as if the two are trying to eat each other’?” Drew reads, an exasperated expression on his face from the opposite end of the couch. He had been reading through the scene he was supposed to begin rehearsal for next week. When he auditioned for Queer, he knew that it was going to be something intense, like Luca’s other projects and unlike anything else he had worked on. Sure, he’d done explicit scenes in the past, but nothing quite as intimate or personal as the ones Luca had written for Queer.

“So like biting or…?” Y/n quirked a brow, looking up from her book as she listened to Drew’s occasional comments on the script.

“I think it’s more of a like… consumption thing, y’know? Like wanting to have the person wholly, I think.” Drew nodded, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the words again. Y/n nodded, biting her bottom lip as she watched Drew, her book now long gone on the coffee table in front of them.

“‘The two hit back and forth, almost a dance of push and pull. It’s messy and intense, but beautiful and clean’. How are you supposed to act messily and cleanly? With fuckin’ Daniel Craig, let alone?” Drew sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tossed the script down. 

“I think it’s like the act itself is messy and intense, but it’s also a beautiful and almost perfectly clean and serene moment of realization.” Y/n propped her elbow up on the back of the couch, her other hand coming to rest on one of Drew’s legs that stretched across the couch. She soothed her hand along the skin of his calf, watching as he looked off into space as he thought, running the scene through his head. With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face before slinking down into the couch.

“I get it, I just… it’s gonna feel strange showing that level of intensity with someone else...” Drew chewed at his bottom lip before his eyes fell back on y/n, who had a sort of smirk on her face. 

“I think you’ll do just fine, Drew.” Y/n tried to stifle a laugh. Drew shook his head, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he sat up, his arms reaching out around y/n and pulling her to sit against his chest.

“With someone else that isn’t my girlfriend.” Drew clarified, running a hand along her side as she looked at him.

“Well, what would you usually do? Let’s start there.” Y/n sat up, across from Drew, their legs entwined as they looked at each other.

“Well, it says they touch hesitantly so—” Drew pressed his lips quickly to hers before pulling away slightly, his eyes looking down at her lips before flicking up to meet her own gaze.

“Then…” Drew mutters, a hand coming up to rest on her neck as he hesitantly leaned in before opening his lips wide… too wide. He pressed his lips to her face, his mouth open as he nearly took a bite out of her nose which caused her to sputter a laugh into his mouth. He pulled away quickly, his eyes wide as he looked at her with a slight cough.

“What are you doing?!” Y/n laughed, wiping a bit of slobber off her mouth.

“I don’t know! I panicked! I– It said ‘like the two are trying to eat each other’ so I just went for it and—” Drew groaned. How was he supposed to do this? Let alone with a highly regarded actor and director? Why was he having such a hard time kissing his fucking girlfriend? He was usually a professional at that.

“You’re overthinking it, baby.” Y/n said, taking one of his hands. “Just… relax. It says it’s a dance. Just feel it.”

Drew nodded, running a hand through his hair quickly before straightening back up again. He took a deep breath as he brushed his lips across y/n’s lightly before pulling away. He only pulled far enough away to look at her through his thick lashes, his breath fanning across her lips before he cupped her jaw with one hand. He pulled her lips to his in a searing kiss as his other hand wrapped around her torso, pulling her flush to his chest.

The two of them continued, pushing back and forth as the kiss grew more intense and sloppy. Y/n’s hands rested on the back of Drew’s neck, her fingers burrowing in his hair as he opened his mouth widely, practically consuming each movement of her lips. Drew squeezed his eyes tightly as he continued, focusing on the moment and each and every movement the two of them made in their intricately beautiful dance. With a sudden gasp, the two of them finally pulled away from each other, gazes low, lips swollen, and cheeks flushed.

“I think you’ve got it.” Y/n whispered breathily before the two of them broke out in laughs and wide smiles. Drew pressed a quick kiss to the top of y/n’s head before falling back down on the couch, both of their chests heaving as they came down from the high of the intense moment.

“Yeah, me too.” Drew sighed.

[sordidmusings]

Between Two Points - Ace

Art from the doujinshi Torch by NINEKOKS

Summary: You and Ace have had a ✨thing✨for a good while now so sharing a bed wasn’t strange for you. It was, however, absolutely tormenting Ace, who couldn’t keep his mind from every time you’ve touched. You wake up to find him wanting. You thought you could keep things quick and fun but they just keep on escalating. Especially when he begs to be inside you for the first time. 

A/N: oh how Ace has haunted me, especially while writing this lol he’s one of my top favs so brain said we extra need to do him justice 👏 pretty happy with the smut but I’m most happy with the ending scene - I wanted it to be sweet and silly and so very Ace. Part of the Between Two Points series!

Warnings: nsfw, Implications of inexperience (Ace), first time together, sleepy sex (at first lol), subby Ace, he begs and thanks you like a lot, he calls you “pretty” as a pet name, praise kink both ways, emotionally fragile Ace, I didn’t mean for that to come out but he demands it, I just wanna shower him in love and validation until he Understands, until then he gets some pussy, multiple orgasms (for both yayyyyy), overstimulation on Ace, probably cumflation, definitely my obsession with men fighting not to cum, you make him suck the mess off your fingers, aftercare, silly banter to soothe the soul, fem!reader - kept it basically gn but then an old lady joke called to me at the end whoops

Word Count: 10.2k

Come get a serving of that soup ( ˘▽˘)っ♨

“If you see your daydreams in me, they'll not lack

What's been weighted in me, I'll make you quake with reason

I can feel your knees sinking into the bed

Searching in my dark eyes to break what’s been said

There’s a wake of grace, hunting your soreness down

There's a light in my skin that's been dimmed

I'mma dig you up and give you what I took

Pull you up and tuck you in and make you look

I'ma smooth your shoulders down and calm what's shook

It was all forlorn, if only for a season

Watching me is like watching a fire take your eyes from you”

“Can something like this be pulled

From under our feet?

Leaving our skin

And burning coals to meet

Tell me now

The shortest distance

Between two points

Is the line

From me to you”

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Ace still can’t believe you’re in the same bed. Every step into intimacy he’s taken with you leaves him shocked and stumbling. He’ll keep tripping after you forever though because, gods, it’s you. You’ve done a hundred and one things to impress him in emergency and battle, to take his breath away with how you decorate yourself, to make him and others watch on in awe at your skills. Though, all of that pales in comparison to the simple act of you being you. You, who wormed your way into his mind with your quirks and open-minded talks. You, who could light up his body with a simple look, a tender touch, a loving smile. You, who took hold of his heart with your patient kindness and understanding. 

You, who is currently keeping him up with the delicious turmoil of holding you so close.

This is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed. Now, you’ve done plenty of other things together, so Ace hadn’t thought that it would be such a big deal. When it hit him that he was really going to be falling asleep cuddled up to you, something so affectionate and domestic, his heart pumped an extra hard beat to wash tingles under his skin. He had thought the flush of excitement would peter off into comfort and contentment. To be fair, a part of it did. The problem is that the other part began incessantly bombarding him with thoughts of everything you could be doing in the bed besides sleeping.

His past experience with you is only making it harder where he thought it would ease his nerves at being close. The sweet or heated kisses you’d grab him to steal only make his lips lonely at their memory. The spark in your eyes as your kisses move southward haunts him and keeps his dick twitching pathetically against your thigh. The echoes of times he got to be the one with his head between your legs, smothering himself in the heady taste and smell of you, has him biting back whimpers. Fuck, he’s aching and flushed and desperate and all you’re doing is sleeping in his arms. He feels guilt creep in.

This should be enough. He shouldn’t be laying here wishing for more of you while you’re already so sweetly snuggling into his chest, offering him trust and affection. Holding you while you’re at your most vulnerable should sate him. Feeling how soft and warm you are with your weight sinking the two of you together should ease him to rest. Yet his mind keeps reminding him of the last time your weight was pressing on him, leaving him equal parts wound up and embarrassed.

As usual, you had been tapped right into when he needed you to escalate things but felt he didn’t have the right to ask. All day he’d been hovering around you, a hand always on arm or shoulder and eyes always ready to jump to you. He was chasing at your heels when you waved for him to follow you so you could settle him with some attention. He was pawing at you the moment your lips touched, moaning at the first rub of tongues, grinding right when you pressed deeper into him. 

Soon he was on the floor with you on his lap, your palms pressing your weight into his heaving chest and your hips working him over. He flushed an even deeper shade of pink when you told him how pretty he looks. The thought of it has his cock jumping even now, and he struggles to keep from grinding up into your lower stomach. He can feel a hint of your mound at the base of his cock, begging him to press harder to tease himself with your plush heat and the firmness of your pelvis underneath. Knowing your clit was hiding right there against him - in easy reach for him to make you squirm with pleasure, make such pretty pretty noises, think of nothing else but how good he’s making you feel - chips away at his resolve. 

The memory continues with the feeling of his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips, caught between pulling you faster and shoving you off because he felt all too close to his end for a grown man who hasn’t even gotten his pants off yet. You were even still fully clothed but didn’t seem to pay that any mind as you circled and ground yourself on the hard cock trapped in his pants. Even with the layers, he felt how hot your cunt was getting, burning even more against him than your mouth when it took to painting a path through his freckles from cheeks to chest. When you took breaks to grind slowly over him, he felt the little moment where your hips slid before your clothes followed, delayed by you slipping through your own wetness first. His eyes rolled back at the fact that using him got you soaked and that out of everyone you chose him to sit your drooling pussy on.

With that thought and his grinds chasing you back, he felt his balls pull taught and his cock pound dangerously.

No, fuck, he hasn’t even made you cum - his clothes, fuck, he’s still in his clothes you, can’t see him cum in his pants like some pathetic boy, no nonono-

“Please,” Ace gasped out, using all his will power to still his hips and keep them pressed to the ground, “I’m- I’m too- please -hhah- you’re just so- fuck! Please, baby.” He was panting the words between moans, trying to find enough strength to hold your hips still. “Just s-slow down, I’m -nnnngh-” You just smiled devilishly down at him and kept picking up the pace. He grit his teeth and arched his head back, “I’m so fucking close- ah!”

He hides his face in the pillows and your hair even as the praises you had showered him in echo in his ears while he holds your sleeping body. His own painfully awake body shivers while he thinks of how hard he came, how each pump had felt like overwhelming bliss trapped against your heat and to the tune of your voice. It has him grinding against you before he can even think and sighing out in relief at a little bit of the touch he needs.

“Ace?”

Your sleepy mumble makes him freeze, every muscle taught like he grabbed a live wire.

“Why are you awake, honey?” The genuine concern in your sleep-thick voice only makes him feel worse. You try to lift your face from his chest, but a hand on the back of your head traps you there. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he swallows, hoping to trap the stutter back down. “Don’t worry - go back to sleep.”

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head and scratches your scalp to try and settle you. It works for a moment and he relishes in the feel of your body relaxing back against him. That is, until you shift to the side and snuggle deeper. Your thigh brushes his obvious hard on and you both tense. He panics when he feels your eyelashes tickle his chest, letting him know your eyes flew open wide.

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh, he thinks miserably. He’s confused when he feels you smile against his skin.

“Ace, honey, are you enjoying sleeping with me?” Even with the sleepy tone, you manage to get a lot of smug teasing in your voice.

“Yes?” That wasn’t meant to be a question.

“You sure?” you prod. “You seem awful tense.” 

You emphasize the last word with a firm press and rub of your thigh against his aching erection. His whole body shivers and a high sigh escapes him. His hands grasp you at hip and shoulder and he’s struck with the déjà vu of not knowing whether to drag you closer or make you stop. 

You’re having no such struggle, happy to find him a wanting mess. You’ll never get over seeing the confident and playful air he parades around with slipping off to reveal something fragile and seeking when you touch him. Sure, he won you initially with that part of him, charming you to his side like every other moth drawn to his inherent light, trapping you there with all the others under his protection and love. Knowing what pieces can lie under that blaze only makes the show more fun to watch. Knowing someone so powerful, so magnetic, feels the same way for you? Shows you places they’re scared to let others see? It’s your greatest rush and most cherished responsibility.

“You’re perfect, honey,” you praise. He just barely bites back a whimper. “Did you know I was dreaming about you?”

“You were?” Ace sounds much more disbelieving than you’d like.

“Mhmm, I do it often.” Your voice softens with honesty. “You’re always on my mind.”

There’s a slight tremble to Ace’s hold on you. He wants to say something, anything, but his throat has closed too tight for words to pass. 

“I can prove it to you,” the flirtatious heat to your voice eases the fragile vulnerability away. Ace is yet again thankful for your sixth sense when it comes to his needs. Your thigh creeping its way over his leg and hips helps distract him from the pressure behind his eyes. You settle your leg when it’s resting centered on his sensitive head. The weight of your soft thigh easing down on him forces a shaky “hh-ah!” from him and he feels his face flush in embarrassment and need. You reward the sound with a kiss to his pec.

“Well?” you whisper. “Are you gonna check?”

“Huh?” Ace’s blood is all in the wrong head for him to understand anything but praise and orders. You giggle at him and it makes his dick jump against your thigh.

Taking mercy on him, you grab the hand that’s planted on your hip. Slowly, you lead it to the swell of your ass and press his large hand to grip at you. He does so eagerly, playing with the pliant flesh filling his warm hold. Your sleep shorts are thin, letting him feel you easily despite the barrier. He can’t resist the instinct to pull and spread you open. You hum happily at the feeling, arching into it. Ace blows out a tense breath, bedding his cheek into the top of your head and canting his hips up ever so slightly.

“So good, sweetheart,” you sigh. He squeezes down and turns his face to find comfort in the smell of your hair. “Let me show you.”

You urge his hand a little lower, right to the hem of your shorts. You only stop when his fingertips slip under and tickle the skin right beside the swell of your lips. You want him to decide this on his own. He teases the elastic for a moment before trailing the pad of his finger over your underwear right where the seam of your pussy is, starting from your entrance up to your clit and back. Another content hum leaves you, encouraging him, and he swivels his hand to cup your heat. He shivers at the hot breath curling over his chest, and his head swirls happily when you arch your hips up to push your cunt deeper into his palm. 

This time it’s your own hand gripping your ass to spread you open for him. You arch and nudge into his hold more, unintentionally grinding over his cock in your writhing. His fingers twitch, teasing your clit, sparking it to life and leaving you wanting. He’s having trouble keeping himself tempered instead of writhing when he can feel the dampness of your underwear and how they slide messily between his palm and your pussy. He wants it coating his fingers, smeared on his lips, maybe one day he can feel it soaking his cock- 

“Touch me,” you whine impatiently.

Hasty fingers push under the band of your underwear and slip between your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Ace moans. His voice is low in his chest but softened by his breathlessness. He takes his time petting around your entrance and enjoying the feeling of your lips slipping to encase his fingers when he flattens them out to reach your clit.

“Told you I was dreaming about you,” you mumble happily. Even though your body is heated and tingling, you’ve still got the weight of sleep pulling at you, leaving you in a content mix of dreaminess and pleasure. You relax further into Ace, happy to let him touch you as he likes in that tentative, worshipping way of his. It’s that endearing contrast to the brash and confident way he presents himself and fights. He always starts touching you like it’s an honor he doesn’t deserve, something he needs to take slowly lest he scare you off or never get the chance again. Even though you love the treatment, it breaks your heart that he thinks he’s so below you as to not deserve to touch you, let alone receive your affection.

The tip of a finger presses at your entrance, just enough to have the pad sink in. You swivel your hips to urge him further and moan when he listens to your plea. Ace moans with you, always amazed at your tight heat. It welcomes him easily despite gripping down snugly on his skin. He pulls his digit out with a curl, shivering when your muscles clamp back against him. You sigh his name in that dreamy way that makes him feel special, and he can’t help but add another finger and sink them in deep. Even though he’s in to the last knuckle, you shove your face down into his chest and your ass into the air to try and suck him in deeper. He rewards you by petting at your walls, drawing more pleasurable twitches from your cunt.

“More,” you whine. It’s half demand and half complaint and all turning his brain to mush. How quickly you are winding into desperation is only making his own need grow. He needs to hear more from you, he needs you to fix the burning under his skin, he needs fuck himself into a place so deep in you that you can never be rid of him.

“Need to be inside you,” Ace groans before he can think about the words. “Please, pretty baby, you feel too good-” he swallows thickly when you hungrily grind back onto his massaging fingers, “fuck -hah- need to know-” he can’t finish his sentence because you’ve snuck your hand down to palm his erection and stroke him in time with your thrusting hips.

“Think you’re ready to fuck me?” you ask. You meant to check in and make sure he was emotionally ready, but your breaths rushing out of you made it sound harsh.

“Please,” he begs, voice broken, holding you tight with his free hand, “I’ll make you feel so good- promise, promise.”

“I’m just worried-”

“It’ll be okay,” he promises immediately, “just a quick feel, you don’t even have to let me fuck you- just gotta feel you on my cock at least once.” He tries to win your favor by using his free hand to tease your clit.

“Ace,” you gasp. It’s hard to slow him down when he’s winding your body up so well. With a quick jerk, he shifts you up his body, giving him better leverage to work you on his fingers. It lands your face in the pillow next to his and he takes the opportunity to suck open mouthed kisses across your neck. You mean to talk to him and get a hold on how frantic he’s getting, but all you can do is let out muffled moans into soft cotton. 

“I’ll be good,” Ace whispers against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and humid and gets you one step closer to an orgasm lighting you on fire. “I’ll make you cum until you can’t worry anymore.” The fingers tweaking your clit and prodding your firming walls give weight to his promise. Your hips are already starting to stiffen and twitch with the oncoming climax. “I’ll keep begging, I’ll worship you, anything you want, just, fuck-” his voice breaks before he can stop it. “Please let me feel you.”

Ace feels like he can’t get enough air; he won’t be able to breathe if you pull away - he’s sure he’ll suffocate without you. His whole body is pulsing and alive with urgency, not just the cock straining against his pants. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded is you. Your pretty moans slipping out, half-covered by the pillow. Your searching hands, grasping and working his body over in search of something to hold on to. Your chest blanketing his own, ebbing and flowing in waves with your heavy breathing pressing into him. Most of all, the slick, plush grip of your cunt around his fingers, singing to him in little wet slaps every time it welcomes his fingers back home.

“Ace, I’m-” you turn your head towards him so he can hear and find him already looking at you. His flush is deep enough to try and hide his freckles and his pupils are blown enough to turn his brown eyes black. His slack jaw lets your breaths mingle. The pressure of his fingers on your clit increases just the slightest bit, but it’s just right to get your body to clamp down and not let go. “I’m so close, gonna cum, please, love-” Ace sobs out a moan at the new pet name and presses the fingers inside you even more insistently “ahhn! Don’t stop, don’t stop, gonna-”

You suck in a greedy breath and it’s trapped in your lungs as your body starts to seize up. The hit of pleasure has you curling as close as you can into Ace, needing to clutch him when the first wave crests heavily. His fingers follow you when you squirm to center fully on top of him, soothing you through the ride with gentle pumps into your twitching walls. You breathe again after a moment, letting out a flurry of praise into Ace’s shoulder. The little shakes of your hips make you rub against his trapped cock and his eyes roll back against his wish to keep watching you. 

The way your pussy clamps down on his fingers is absolute torture. Pressed so close with his eyes shut, he can almost imagine the rhythmic waves of your spasming cunt milking him while he fucks you full of cum. It has him panting along beside you like he was the one who just came. 

You’re easing down from your high, swollen walls settled along his now unmoving fingers. The sound of your panting settles with you and the room starts to still into a cozy calmness. Your muscles feel liquid and uncooperative as you try to adjust into a comfier position. The movement yet again rubs you against Ace and he whimpers at the heavy gush of precum it pulls from him.

With a pained sound, Ace wiggles the hand that had been toying with your clit out from under your hips and past his sensitive cock to draw shapes on your back. The action brings the smell of sex closer up to his face and he can’t help but groan. Fuck, he doesn’t want to push you or bother you, but the high of seeing you cum has passed and left him even more wanting.

“Pretty?” Ace starts softly. He kisses at your temple and you hum in reply. “...please?”

You hum again, only half hearing him between the orgasm taking the wind out of your sails and that wind having only been a small gust in the first place given it was somewhere around the witching hour.

“I still need you,” he urges, pressing his hips up gently for some miniscule relief and to make you understand. He’s scalding hot below you and throbbing into your lower stomach and it starts to bring you some clarity.

“While I’d love to continue, I’m tired,” you sigh. Before he can apologize or take it the wrong way, you continue. “Normally that wouldn’t really be a problem, but I want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed the first time I fuck you.” Even with the casual way you’re talking, Ace sighs happily and pulls you tighter at the idea. Before you can think about how you’re about to contradict your words, your mouth moves and you’re back to riling him. “I’ve thought of our first time together a lot, and I’m going to treat you to much more than some sleepy sex.” He shivers and moves back to mouthing at your neck at the promise. “I want you sitting pretty under me while I show you everything I can do to you.”

“But I’m under you now,” Ace argues.

“You are, and you’re doing so good at the looking pretty thing too,” you sigh in mock defeat. You feel him smile against your neck, both from the praise and from gaining some ground. Gotta get that idea back out of his head. “I don’t wanna leave you hanging, but I want to do more for you the first time you’re inside me.”

Ace doesn’t share that worry. He’s more worried about using his free hand to start guiding your hips in slow circles to feel the motion around the fingers still sitting inside you. It also teases his still leaking cock and makes it painfully easy to imagine the sensation blending so his cock feels the circles and the grip of your cunt. It flutters on his digits and he flexes his hand to feel the twitching muscles better, putting pressure towards your lower stomach. You keen at the burn it sets in your nerves, arching against his hand to feel more. Shoved so snuggly into your body, Ace’s fingers pick up the thump of your racing heart beating behind the walls of your pussy. He’s never needed anything more than he needs to feel it tapping against the racing pulse of his own heart pulsing through his cock.

“Please, pretty, please please ple-hease” he begs again, beyond reason. “What if- what if we don’t fuck? What if you just let me inside you to keep me warm?”

The idea is quite tempting. You kiss at the side of his face, giving yourself time to enjoy the fantasy of cockwarming him. It’s one you’ve come back to many times in your daydreams of him. Still, you want to fuck the sanity out of him the first time he’s inside you.

“Ace, no-”

“Just the tip.” The words are rushed and breathless and broken. “What if it’s just the tip?”

You realize there’s no reasoning with him and you’re losing the want to try. It’s not like you haven’t been wanting to fuck him since lust rode in on the coattails of “wow he’s pretty and so sweet”. He’s not the only one hiding insecurities though, and you frequently fear that if you don’t keep up the trend of blowing his mind with all the physical stuff then he’ll get bored of you. You can’t accept your first time together being anything less than perfect; the very idea fills you with dread, so much so that the potent temptation of Ace writhing and begging and even just his fingers making you feel so fucking good hasn’t shaken it off you.

“I can’t-” Ace swallows hard, “I can’t just keep dreaming about it, please, fuck, pretty, I need you.”

You believe him. You’ve never heard him so lost before in all your times fooling around. He’s prone to his tongue loosening the longer you touch and this is far from the first time he’s pleaded with you, but this felt different. There’s a frantic undertone to his voice and the words spilling from his lips. There’s truth to the emotion turning his grasp into a delicious mix of powerful and trembling. There’s no arguing with the twitching length grinding into your lower stomach - no way you can deny how hard he feels or the heat of it burning against you even through your clothes. It’s enough to make you lose yourself to the thought of getting to clamp down around his firm cock while the length finds places to toy with much deeper than you can reach. You can tell from the shape against you his width would press back at every nerve you’ve got, waking them up and making them sing. 

You come back to reality when he sneaks in a deep thrust of his fingers. The wet sound makes him moan, and the responding clench turns it into a deep, throaty “fuck”. His head flies back as he arches and grinds. You look up from the pillow and see his pretty black waves piling next to the sharp cut of his jaw. The bob of his throat as he swallows matches the jump of his cock. You feel every detail of it and notice he’s leaked enough to soak through his shorts and your shirt, leaving a sticky spot against your skin.

“You make me feel so good,” Ace moans. “I can make you feel good too.”

The fact that he thinks he needs to convince you of that even with his fingers stuffed in you, held tight with how your cunt’s swelled from pleasure, proves he’s very far from rational thought.

“You did,” you promise with a sweet kiss to his neck. “Now it’s your turn.” His head shoots up to give you a hopeful look. “You’ve cum from less, isn’t this enough?” You swirl your hips down against him to illustrate your point.

“It’s not about cumming,” he grumbles, suddenly sounding a bit more coherent and honestly a bit offended. “I wanna be closer.”

That throws you so off guard you just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“We could take off our clothes?”

Ace doesn’t give you time to take it back, his hands flying from you and already shoving his shorts down his thighs. He sighs in relief when his cock springs free, and nudges his head into yours mindlessly in relieved affection. Too impatient to finish the task, he stops pushing his shorts while they’re halfway down to instead get his hands under your shirt. You go to finish what he started but get distracted taking handfuls of his waist and thighs. When you thumb at the descending line of his adonis belt, Ace can do nothing but press into your touch, even pausing his mission to get under your clothes.

You lay yourself back on Ace, now trapping his dick between his twitching abs and the soft skin of your stomach and the tease of trimmed hair on your mound. Somewhere in his brain he thinks he should be ashamed of how he’s an absolute mess from something so simple as feeling your skin on his cock. At the moment, the shame is overshadowed by sheer need and awe. This is you - he’s dreamed of this, agonized over it, sat drowning in a mind and body desperate to find a way to get you to look at him, let alone touch him. Even when you started pulling him with you for teasing tastes on top of your shared missions together, all the time between had them feeling fake. Getting to have you feels so foreign and unattainable that his brain writes it off as false memories when you aren’t in his hands. 

And that’s why he holds you all the more tightly when you’re in reach. He needs you cemented in his grip and sunk into every sense so you’re all he knows. No questions, no doubts, no loneliness, no hollowness, just the comfort of you. He gets his lips back on yours before he breaks.

You hook your thumbs into your shorts and underwear but it’s not quick enough for Ace. He grabs them in a tight fistful and yanks. Your spread thighs keep them from getting lower than the end of your ass and Ace whines into your mouth. Trying not to break the kiss, you lean onto your right leg and try to work the other out of your clothing. It’s a clumsy and messy affair, each of you using a hand to tug at the garments while the other is busy trying to feel and hold as much of each other as possible. You lean back to look and finally get the damn thing off and Ace chases you the whole way. Between the hot slide of tongue, the nipping on lips, and the dancing rolls of kiss and grind you manage to get your left leg completely free of clothing.

“Fuck, pretty, how -hhh-ah!- do you do that?” Ace moans breathlessly after you set your hips back on him.

“Do what?” You’re moving your clit up and down his shaft in torturously slow grinds, mind fuzzed with the feeling of your wetness making you glide so smoothly on him.

“Make me -mmnngh!- fuck-” You circle your clit around his sensitive head, turning his speech into a few heaving breaths and groans. “Make me forget everything.”

Your lips are back on his in a rush, too fast for you to get out all the loving words living in you. First it’s as insistent and firm as your hips are working him over. After a long minute though, he’s lost too much breath to do much more than pant and hump into you in a desperate chase to feel more and more. You begin laying quick kisses to his cheek and land one in the shape of a smile on the corner of his open mouth. You feel it curl up under the press of your lips. 

“You m-make me happy,” Ace admits, a twinge of nerves managing to show through all the arousal in his voice. You bump your nose to his gently. 

“You’re my happiness, Ace.”

He whines and screws his eyes shut even more tightly. You feel his cock throb heavily against you. Taking advantage, you change to little circles against him and feel the pressure of it tease at your clit and entrance. A hand snakes into your hair and grips, holding you steady to press your foreheads together. His eyes crack open to search yours for lies. Even in the rush of your grinding bodies, the eye contact is still and sturdy as steel.

“You can’t just say that,” Ace breathes.

You feel how close he is, even harder than before and thrusts getting stilted in an attempt not to cum. You set on that singlemindedly, needing to hear his breathy broken moans, feel him squirm and jerk, shove him straight into a headspace empty of all but bliss. You get your own hand in his hair and tug, earning a moan and more pleads. Busying your mouth with his neck, you begin sliding along his whole length at a quick pace. The burn in your thighs is nothing compared to the pressure building between your hips, getting tighter and brighter with every swipe.

“No, holy shit, so close, s’close -hah hahngg-“ Ace starts babbling, “wanna cum in you, I’ll do anything, I’ll -mnnngh- anything please, fuck, too good, so fucking wet, so -fuck- can’t, please no, no ‘m gonna cum-“

You suck and teethe at the sensitive spot behind his ear and twist your grip in his hair, sure that would throw him over. Instead he lunges forward to sink his teeth into your shoulder and his hands clamp onto your hips to hold them perfectly still. You’re reminded of the power in the man who falls apart for you. It makes you clench and gush against him with a throaty moan. He holds on for dear life through it, tensing and throbbing and leaking and just barely managing to hold off his orgasm.

Once he’s sure he’s relatively safe, he lets go of your shoulder and begins kissing over the slight indents. The gentle touch feels electric on the tender skin. He continues to hold your hips prisoner, imobile against his own. After some deep breaths he pulls back to look at you. 

“I don’t want it to ever stop,” his eyes are shiny and his lips tremble, but not as much as his words. “Please.” That commanding grip lightens. He slides his hands so he can massage his thumbs into the creases where your thighs meet your hips, sending sparks under your skin. “Just a little of you.”

Your resolve finally breaks and you agree. “Just the tip.”

“Thank you,” Ace rushes out. “Remind me to take you out and spoil you.”

You huff out a laugh even though you’re pretty sure he’s serious. 

“As if you don’t try already.” 

You shimmy forward and he rights you into his grip again; getting you on him with as much skin to skin as possible, just where you belong. It makes maneuvering a bit more difficult but neither of you care; you’re too busy enjoying each other’s heat and taste.

“No goofing, just romance.”

His arms encase you while yours frame him, taking time to touch skin and play with his fluffy hair. You’re firmly settled against him, laying with your cunt just in reach of his leaking head. Each breath presses you deeper into each other and lets pressure tease at your breasts. You take a moment to sneak fingers to your sides so you can tweak his nipple. The shocked hiss is one of your favorites. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” You reach back to grab hold of him and give him a few firm strokes, just to hear his pretty gasps. “The gentleman act isn’t as fun without the goofy contrast.”

“It’s not an a-aahhhhhhnn-“ You use your grip on him to circle his head on your entrance and press back just enough for the weeping tip to catch. After drawing out the sensation for a few more breaths, you move to sit up for a better angle to give him a shallow ride, but he stops you.

“Stay.” Even though it’s an order it sounds like a plea. At your confused look he continues, “If you stay like this I won’t be able to start fucking you if I lose myself.”

He feels you clench against his cockhead and it twitches in response, desperate to sink just a little deeper and letting you know with a pressure that hovers just under enough to finally slip into you. He knows “if” was too weak a word; the moment he feels the plush heat of your cunt he’s a goner. He’s had ambition and determination and stubbornness woven through parts of his being since his first breath. Yet they all fail him when he aims them at restraint here. Staring down a warlord was easier than fighting his bone deep desire for you. You just have a way of making him feel so full of life that it circles back around to an endless emptiness unless he’s smothered in your presence. Like any addict, the starting hits were no longer enough and he’d chase bigger and bigger ones til he had the endless high of being always near and always yours. His body being newer to such waves makes it easier for his instincts to take over him when more becomes not enough.

You feel the slick skin of his tip licking at your entrance with each breath you both take, so focused on every little motion you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your cunt. You start pressing back more.

“Wait,” Ace gasps. He plans a hand at the back of your head and turns it to face him. You meet blown pupils in shiny eyes, brows fighting not to pinch, freckles dancing with every word and expression. His warm breath tickles your swollen lips and you can taste its sweetness on your tongue. You want to keep looking around his pretty face but his pleading eyes have you locked in their heat. “Look at me.”

You barely think to give him a shaky nod. 

Ace reaches his other hand down to join yours on his shaft. It slips easily around your grip and holds gently, letting you keep control. Your hand feels so hot between his large one and the beating cock in your palm. Testing his grip, you slowly pump down his shaft, a slick sound from the dripping of your cunt and his precum sliding through your fingers, and make your way back up to the tip with a twisting wrist. His hand trembles around yours and he curses against your lips but he simply follows your movements.

Happy with the reaction, you continue on. He begins sinking in and his brows furrow further. The slow pace lets him feel every bit of texture, every flutter of the muscles of your entrance as they greet him. He’s in enough for you to encase his slit and you both feel the reward of a thick gush of precum spilling right into you. You breath out a syrupy “so good” and Ace fights again not to cum again - it gives him visions of fucking you fast and deep until you’re hiccuping those words and he’s pumping you full for real. He doesn’t want to be hasty though, he might miss a single second of this blissful torture.

His dick is pressed in to a catch, hovered right where his head flares widest. You hold him steady and give a little circle of your hips to feel him play with your stretching entrance.

“-hah- holy o-oh -nnnngh- thank you thank you,” he mumbles and moans between trying to breathe. His eyes roll back and screw shut for a moment before he fights them back open to watch your hazy eyes and slack jaw. He pulls you forward by the hand in your hair to press your foreheads together. Those fingers begin a haphazard massage as they switch between grasping for grounding and petting at you in adoration.

You take in a lungful of his breath and his musk and the ambient sex and shimmy just a little lower. At last, your cunt gives to let the rim of his head pop in, finally warming you from the inside. It immediately has you clench down and you can’t help but moan pathetically at finally having something to clench down on. The burning skin of his cockhead presses back at the twitching walls of your cunt, sending jolts up your spine.

“Y-you -ahh- you’re so-“ Ace is struggling against his scattered mind and an ocean of oxytocin to get you to understand how perfect you are and how his chest is so full it aches and how he’d fight through pirates, marines, the whole world government just to be this close to you again. All that comes out is a grumbling, fervent moan of “warm”.

You clench again at the word and he whimpers. You slip your hand off of his cock and out of his grip before using it to make him hold his cock for you. It gets the sticky mess all over him, which he quickly uses to twist his hand slowly up and down his shaft. You follow the movement for a few pumps then bring your hand up to your faces. You’d wanted a taste but you get a better idea. 

The moment the pads of your fingers touch Ace’s lips, he opens them just a bit wider for you. He can smell the heady mix of you both and his mouth waters eagerly. Slowly and deliberately, you sneak two fingers past his lips and press them on his tongue, his eyes burning into you the whole time. He’s quick to seal his lips and suck, hot tongue roving over your digits to collect every drop. You can hear the wet sound of his working hand get faster. You shove your fingers in to the last knuckle and he swallows them down greedily, moaning the whole time.

It’s impossible to keep yourself still; the fucked out look on Ace’s flushed face and the attention feeding but not sating your cunt make you squirm. All the movement from his jerking, constantly getting faster and firmer, has his cockhead massaging every nerve of your entrance and reverberated through your lips and clit, sinfully delicious yet maddeningly subtle. Your body is begging for him to force his way deep, split you around his thick cock, feel that pounding drag against every inch of your swollen and pulsing pussy. Instead, you have to settle for a slow tilt and pull of your hips, guiding the head sitting heavy in you to press more one way then the next. One particularly hard pump of his hand sends a strong shock to your clit and you grip him with your hands as tightly as your core wrings down around him. A heavy throb of his cock gushes more precum into you. 

Hearing how much he’s struggling to breathe fast enough through his nose, you pull your fingers from his mouth to instead pull at his hair. He’s mumbling out curses and praises between frantic kisses around your lips. The battle to stare into your eyes is becoming lost; Ace’s won’t stop rolling back and fluttering closed and losing focus. You can practically taste how close he is and it sets your whole body alight. You’re sure when he cums you’ll be able to feel the pleasure in your own body.

“Ace,” you call and his eyes crack open to see you again. His lashes are so dark and long and make his eyes look all the darker. “Need to feel you cum.” The words are rushed and urgent, trying to sneak around gasps and moans. “Love, I want you t-to -mnnn!- fuck me full.”

“Fuck!” The word “love” echoes violently around Ace’s head, and he’s so wound up and frayed he’s scared he may actually catch fire. His scramble is immediate - hands flying down to clamp onto your hips, fingers sinking deep into your skin, head thrown back giving you a full view of the flush hiding his freckles, the strong jaw working between going slack and gritting his teeth, but most importantly his hips thrust against his will. A mindless,  ravenous instinct locked in place and told him to rut until neither of you could move, until each thrust wrung more cum from him only to have it gush out of you because how could you possibly hold more?

Unfortunately, Ace had planned ahead. Your precarious alignment lets the first few thrusts sink him just a centimeter deeper, the relief of more of you only matched by the insatiable need to have all of you. Just when he feels the knot of pleasure pull his balls taught and tense his cock hard as a rod, a thrust knocks him loose.

Ace lets out an actual wail as he loses your heat. The bliss of his orgasm gets lost with it, ebbing away quickly and leaving him frantic.

“No fuck I- please I was so close, shit-,” Ace sobs right by your ear where he’s nestled himself close for comfort.

Needing to calm him and missing the feeling of him too terribly, your hand goes back to his cock while you distract him with sloppy open mouthed kisses. You find him easily and try to settle him with a few firm pumps. Ace is relieved as the feeling comes back fast and he’s already tensing and squirming and curling his toes as his orgasm beats to life in his cock again. 

 “That’s it, love,” you encourage. “I’ve got you.”

“Can’t, cumming cummingcumming-“ Ace chants urgently, kicked straight over the edge by your care. You rush to get him back inside you first but his cock’s already kicking in your grip. The first spray of cum lands where your thigh meets your ass and the second splashes over your pussy. By the third you’re pressing him back in. The whole time Ace is moaning high and gasping and pulling you to him like he needs you to breathe. He’s squirming and handsy, back arching off the bed while he takes any handful of you he can get. You feel the heavy pump of his next spurt of cum and fall to instinct yourself. You push your body down his and plop the weight of your hips in his lap, taking him in one swift motion and a heavy slap.

“Yes! Y-ye-nnnghah!- yesss thank you thank you two good so good s’good-“

You grind yourself in a heavy drag, forward and back, relishing having him all the way inside you. He feels thick enough to press your hips wide and long enough to punch at your lungs. Each grind has him play with your insides, lighting every nerve to make you feel like he’s filled you from head to toe. Each grind also has a fresh throb press at your cunt and spurt more sticky cum where his head twitches against your deepest spots. It has an unfamiliar pit swallowing the orgasm that’s nearly formed in your core, filling your nerves with a new life. You pick up the pace, needing more of that deep seated burn you can feel with each rub of him in the pit of your gut.

Ace whines as his sensitive cock has less and less to give yet keeps up its pumping. He’s beside himself, feels completely out of control of his muscles and voice as he grinds and moans and pleads, yet somehow his hands help press your hips harder into his, adding strength to your ride with every push and pull. He’s left slack jawed at the feeling, mouth hung open to let out every humid pant and desperate sound. He can feel your thighs clamp up around his hips, your fingers claw frantically at his chest, your hips begin to shake and jump. Most of all he can feel the coming orgasm sink into the muscles of your cunt as they swell and twitch and begin to clamp down on him like a vice. 

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop-“ now you’re chanting to him and he feels a new rush flow through his body. The ending orgasm is replaced with new interest amid the burning haze of overstimulation. Every fiber in him knows that he just needs to make you cum and he’ll know what heaven is like.

Ace sits up quickly to meet you, detouring to mouth over your swaying chest and enjoy a taste of your perked nipples before he gets some space to watch your blissed out face and writhing body. He begins thumbing at your clit while his other hand urges your hips up a few inches. For a moment you keep your hips moving but they freeze when Ace plants the hand that was on them behind him and his feet on the mattress and he starts to fuck up into you. They’re shallow, staccato slaps of his hips into yours, sloppily pushing his cum out of you to make stickier sounds, sending vibrations rattling through the underside of your clit still pressed under his thumb, and it’s exactly everything you ever needed. 

The deep pit his fat cockhead taps at again and again pulls taught until your whole cunt squeezes and then you feel like you burst. A breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a holler of his name and you curl forward to cling to him. You try and ride out the high as it seizes you, shaking through your hips and legs and tightening its fist around your whole core. You don’t remember an orgasm ever massaging through you like this before - pulling heavy waves of clamp and release from your cervix to your entrance, each one making Ace’s cock feel even bigger and the pressure of that cock forcing you to stay open makes you nerves sing and dance tingles through your clit and up your spine and under your skin. 

You’re not the only one stuck at it’s mercy; Ace’s head is empty of all but the way the sensation ravages through his nervous system, taking his body from him and commanding it to hold you closer, harder, to fuck you faster, firmer. He knows his mouth is moving, but he’s not sure what it’s saying. His head is full of curses and wonder and “thank you”s and “love you”s but he has no clue what’s making it past. The only things he seems to hear are the roaring of his blood in his ears and the stream of praise tumbling from your lips. You gasp out, “Ace! Fuck, you’re so -hahn- perfect”, and he sears it in his brain forever. The way you pray your pleasure to him, bleed his name and “love” together as if they’re the same thing, it has his head spinning and his heart swelling and cock burning.

The pulses of your high get further apart so you force will into your legs and bounce with Ace to chase them. After a few though, his feet slip out straight and both hands are back on your hips to guide your thrusts and hold you tight. He’s kissing down the side of your face then hiding himself in the crook of your neck, where he can switch between kissing the taste of salt off your skin and huffing in lungfuls of the scent of your hair and skin and sweat and sex. He can taste his bliss on every moan he chokes out, can feel it throb closer with every clap of your hips he just clap needs a little more, needs the way clap your fingers tug his hair clap yes just like that and clap fuck, the way your pussy clap sucks him in clap so so close, just-

“Fuck, Ace, can’t breathe -hahnngh- too much, don’t let it stop -ah!- please, need you-“ 

He whimpers and crushes you in his hold, forcing you to sit still with him pressed as deep as he can go so he can feel every inch of you while he cums again. The first wave hits and he surges forward when his abs clamp tight, knees pulling up behind you to fully surround you. 

“Again?” You manage to gasp against his cheek.

“Yes,” he whines, “you’re just- fuck, fuck!”

It’s near painful to cum so hard so quickly after the last. His head is murky and floating at the strange sensation of the orgasm tearing through his muscles to make him grind and pump into you without having anything to gush out. Your body still seems happy enough with the offering though, completely in sync to milk out everything he could possibly give. 

It’s the perfect end to your high to be in your body enough to take in every bit of his high moans and mumbling and feel every bit of touch his instincts have him showering over you. He keeps nosing at your neck for comfort and tickling the sensitive skin there with kisses and words spoken right against your skin. His hands are deeply kneading the flesh of your hips, petting in trembling fingers and always pulling to keep your hips flush to his. His abs tense and jump, both with his stuttering breath and with the strong pulls of his dick every time it tries to force more out of him in a soul-deep need to fill you with him until he’s a permanent piece of you. His thighs are doing much the same, jostling you slightly against him from how he’s curled around you. Yes, this is exactly what you needed to cap your high and ease you back into reality. Especially with that deep voice of his showing off its range.

“Thank you, thank -nnngh- you, wanna be this close forever -ahhh- never -mm!- stop feeling you, love this, l-love y-y-hah!”

You guide him the whole time, petting his hair, kissing his temple, teasing his skin with your nails, and holding his back. The way he clings to you sets you ablaze but also lets you know how desperately he needs to feel held. His firm hold and your returning squeezes are the anchor that secures you both through the torrent and the drop from sharing bodies. Because of the affection, that drop is a landing in pure comfort and relaxation. Your muscles are all becoming liquid and you simply melt into each other and breathe. 

Ace may have never finished that thought out loud, but he continued it in the affection of his lips pressing so tenderly to your heated skin. He made it clear in the reverence of his hold on you, full of trailing fingertips worshipping your shape and gentle squeezes closer with warm and supportive palms. You understood from the cozy sway he set while drawing his temple up the side of your face to then skim the tip of his nose over your cheek and rest your foreheads together then find stillness. All the words he didn’t say came through in your shared breaths, which grew from humid puffs to a slow and smooth rhythm.

Just in case you missed the rest, he brushed his lips across yours, light enough to tickle before easing forward to mold them together. Your lips part to taste him once more and he indulges you, happily slipping his tongue between your lips for another dance. It’s unhurried how you kiss, lips firm and sure in how they press and drag together, tongues brushing slowly not to arouse but to simply enjoy. The slick sounds of the deep kisses ring in your ears in the quiet room along with the hushes of breath slipping between you two. Ace pulls in one particularly deep breath through his nose before breaking the kiss to sigh his happiness out. The whole thing is punctuated by one last sweet peck.

“I feel it too, Ace,” you promise.

His voice is thick when he whispers out once more, “Thank you.”

You rest your head on his shoulder and press a smile to his skin. Ace tilts his head just so to rest it on yours and closes his eyes to simply be. You’re not sure how long you stay sat in his lap holding him. Instead of the tick of a clock you have the swell of his breaths and the brush of his thumb. Now and again he’d start and leave a subtle sway or press kisses to your hair or squeeze you just a little tighter. You’d respond to it all in kind but his favorite was when he could feel a smile press your cheek into his collarbone or when you’d rest your hand over his pec just to better feel his heartbeat. 

Unfortunately, soreness begins to set in your hips and you have to move. Ace isn’t a big fan of the idea; you can tell from his grumble and his arms cinching around your waist. It's endearing, but no match for the protest in your joints.

“Ace, I’m sore,” you laugh out the complaint, too amused by his pouting. “Let’s lay down.”

“That I can agree to,” he says.

You doubt his words when you start to get off him and receive an indignant “hey”. 

“Who said you were allowed to get off?”

“Pretty sure I was just letting us both get off.”

“I helped,” he pouts.

“That’s an understatement,” you reassure with two quick pats to his cheek. “But for real, I gotta get off so we can get settled.”

“Agree to disagree,” Ace chimes with that maddeningly bright and charming smile of his. It crinkles his nose a moment and scrunches his eyes in a way that brings out their glimmer and you’re sure you’d never be able to say no to that face for long.

“Okay,” you sigh. “How are we going to do this?”

“Clumsily,” he answers without missing a beat and you laugh again.

“Okay, Commander, take the reins,” you say as you settle back into laying against him, happy to let him take over this clown show.

“Ooooo ‘commander’, huh? Wanna try calling me that next time?”

Instead of responding you give his back a half-hearted swat.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he reasons.

“I’m filing it away for later, but please Ace my poor hips. You’re gonna make me an old lady in my twenties,” you whine.

“At least you make a cute granny.” You can hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

“Move!” You laugh and he finally does.

He scoots you both back once, holding you tight through it while you giggle at the bumpy ride. Now back to the center of the bed, he shimmies for good measure and lays himself back. He holds his arms out expectantly and you just raise a brow at him.

“You’re gonna slip out.”

“I believe in you,” he says. He tried to be deadpan but his lips couldn’t resist the smile.

“There’s your first mistake,” you say and he just smiles wider.

You shift to the right so you can rotate your left leg out and down. You lean your weight on his chest for balance, a palm flat on each large pec, and slide your leg down and back right next to his. You shiver at the release in your joint and Ace shivers at the pressure on his chest and the jostle of your hips. His softened dick twitches in interest.

“Stop that, we need to sleep,” you reprimand with no real heat.

“I didn’t tell it to do that,” Ace deflects.

You chuckle and continue repositioning, leaning to the left this time. It feels just as nice when your right leg gets to be straight again and you can finally lay down. It feels a little strange to be lying directly on Ace’s middle instead of tucked to his side or spooning but it’s not unwelcome. It’s definitely not a permanent feature, though, and you tell him as much.

“Just for a while,” Ace promises. Much softer he adds, “Not ready yet.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Taking stock of your body, you feel a pleasant exhaustion and let it help you sink further into Ace. His hands rest gently on your back, one spread between your shoulder blades and one drawing shapes over your lower back. His thighs are so warm next to yours and the packed muscle feels so soft when he’s relaxed like this. The same goes for the pec currently being used as your pillow. Okay, maybe you could stay this way quite awhile; Ace is unfairly warm and comfortable and having him sit still half in you sates some instinct you didn’t know you had. 

“Blanket?” Ace asks.

“Dealer’s choice,” is your non-committal response.

With some reaching and finagling, Ace manages to get a hold of the sheets and flap them to lay over you. He leaves them so that they cover your legs but make it no further than the small of your back. It lets the slight chill of the room continue to cool you off without going so far as to make you cold. It’s absolutely perfect with his high body temperature radiating below you. Yeah, you’re pretty sure you could drift off into some of the best sleep of your life just like this.

A thought strikes you. 

“How did you stay hard that whole time?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly through a yawn. Then he chuckles and adds, “maybe you just have a magic pussy.”

You laugh at the stupid joke, happy he’s relaxed enough in your relationship to joke more about sex now.

“Too bad you can’t go around testing that theory,” you sigh in mock sympathy.

Ace perks up and stares at you real strong. His eyes that were just fighting sleep are now full of life. You don’t say more and just let him look and stew on your words.

“Say it again but like I’m stupid?”

“That’s what I usually try to do.”

He barks a laugh.

“Damn, must be hard loving an idiot.”

“Not at all.” The tenderness that seeps from your words melts him straight through. Thinking better of leaving it (you know he knows you’re joking, but you also know that his mind is exceptionally cruel), you use the last of your energy to get up on your elbows and look him in the eyes. “You’re a dumbass sometimes, especially with those brothers of yours, but more than that you’re really smart.” You place a sweet kiss to his forehead. “And you’re strong and determined and reliable.” A kiss to one cheek. “And empathetic and sweet and thoughtful.” A kiss to the other one. “And you wanna know what you are more than anything else?”

“What?” His voice shakes and his eyes burn and he’s so exhausted from all the emotions of the night but they’ve also been the most precious things ever. 

You rest your forehead to his and take a deep breath, savoring the moment.

“You’re very very easy to love.”

A kiss binds your words and lips.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed 🥰 Please let me know if you did and criticisms are also welcome 🤍

Restarting tag list because Overthinking lol please lmk if you want to be on one! Even if you think it's obvious. I am: Stupid and Anxious 💀

Between Two Points Masterlist

Masterlist

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling him daddy; Caleb

Word count; 922

Warnings; "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; Hope yall enjoy these updated drabbles!! <3

☆☆☆☆☆

You and Caleb weren't…well, technically, you weren't dating, but you weren't exactly sure what to call it. Your relationship is the same it's always been.

The usual cuddling, hand-holding, pretending to date to thwart love confessions…

And you were trying to figure out how exactly to push the envelope just a step further.

As you were scrolling through decade old apps, you found a TikTok compilation.

Now, you weren't exactly sure what TikTok was since it was, at least, 20-years old, but you decided to watch the video anyways since you were doom scrolling in bed at Caleb's home.

As you were watching, one trend caught your eye.

It was the aptly named “calling your boyfriend daddy” trend and while you didn't have a boyfriend…you did have Caleb.

You weren't exactly sure what kinks Caleb had, but whether his reaction was sexual, disgust, or whatever it may be, you wanted to see. So, with that thought in mind, you get up and call your OTTO into the room.

“Hello, master, what do you need help with today? Do you need breakfast? Master Caleb left two hours, thirty-five minutes, and 40 seconds ago to go to work. He won't be home until–”

“Thank you so much for that, OTTO, but I needed something else.” You quickly cut the circular robot off, feeling a bit bad for doing so, but you doubt its feelings would be hurt. “Whenever Caleb gets home and we start cooking, can you switch to your recording mode?”

“I can do that. Any video saved will go straight to Master Caleb's phone.” The bot says as it flies around your head and you shrug, “That's fine with me. Let me know when he gets home!”

Now, you just need to figure out how you'll seamlessly bring the word up in conversation with Caleb…

“He's home! He's home!” OTTO shouts, almost excitedly, as it speeds around the house similarly to an overexcited dog. Though, its warning was a tad too late as Caleb steps in the door while the bot is excitedly yelling.

“You missed me so much, you got OTTO to tell ya when I get home?” He laughs as he takes his Colonel hat off, setting it on the coffee table.

“Maybe…” you grab his hat, putting it on as you shove him toward his room. “Go get changed, I'm hungry.”

“Alright, alright. Geez, no need to be in such a hurry, pipsqueak.” He holds his hands up, allowing you to push him.

After he's changed, he joins you in the kitchen with OTTO flying steadily around the room.

“Did you tell OTTO to do something? It's acting realllly strange.” Caleb's eyes narrow as he shuts the rice cooker. “Nope, maybe it's broken.” You shrug, continuing to peel an apple.

You decided to make an apple smoothie for both you and Caleb, almost completely forgetting about your earlier plan. “Oh right…” you murmur under your breath.

How were you going to bring it up…

“What're you thinking about, pipsqueak?” Caleb rests an arm on your shoulder as he pokes the skin between your eyebrows. “What's got you furrowing your brows?”

“Well da– I mean, hmm…” you're honestly feeling a bit frustrated, but also embarrassed that you can't find a way to naturally insert this word into the conversation.

How come he can do it so easily when calling you pipsqueak?

Caleb raises a brow, leaning more into your view. “What did you say?”

“Ah, it's nothing.” You shove at his chest with a small laugh. “Give me some space, Caleb. You know I'm holding a knife, right?”

But as soon as you say this, you feel an odd pressure on your wrist. Your hand lets go of the knife and it clatters on the marble countertop.

“Caleb– ?”

He turns your body to face him, your back against the counter as he tilts his head to the side.

“Go on.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, seriously!” You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look away from him.

He didn't know exactly what you were going to say from just a few letters…right?

He grabs your chin, turning your head to face him. “Don't look away from me.” He jerks his chin up as he looks down at you. “Go ahead, say what you were going to say. I'm waiting.”

Embarrassment along with…something else was boiling in the pit of your stomach and you let out a low, panicked whine, lightly stomping your foot.

Suddenly, you felt like you couldn't say anything. So tongued that you just kept your mouth shut.

A sharp laugh escapes Caleb and his grip tightens around your chin. “Alright, brat. You really don't want to say it?” He hums, eyes flitting from yours to your lips. “Then I guess that means…no braised chicken tonight?”

“Huh–” you owlishly blink at him, before finally coming back to life. “That's not fair–!”

“Then…Say. It.” Caleb clicks his tongue, slowly leaning forward so his forehead rests against yours.

“I…ugh.” You sigh, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “I'm sorry…daddy.”

“Good girl.” He hums with a content smile, dipping his head down to lightly peck your lips before suddenly, he's gone. “Now get back to your smoothie.”

Your face was red as you stared at his back. How the hell was he so unphased!?

That's so unfair.

But as you puff out your cheeks in annoyance, you notice how one of his hands is balled up into a fist and his ears are a pretty shade of red.

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[pranabefall]

✸ — MISC NOTICE. ; minors dni. zhongli x reader. again, some pure fluff but as an mdni blog i'm holding repellent XD. mostly silly silly stuff ihgfghj reader is implied to have studied in the sumeru akademiya. not edited!!!

"You're awake."

It's more a statement then anything else, Zhongli's arm snakes round you, steady in it's grasp. "I know you are." he adds, in a way where the depths of his chest seemed to rumble slow, slow, slowly.

You crack an eye open and stare straight at him, a sheepish grin flickering across for a moment ( only for a moment. You're incorrigible, as Zhongli liked to say ). "I've been thinking." You begin, your breath half caught at the back of your mouth. An excited thrum dances over your fingertips and you're half dizzy from the buzz and the tire. So much, there's so much, your stomach feels like it's about to explode.

"It's too early." he glances over at you with a pointed raise to his brow. "You can barely hear the birds out. Go back to sleep now." His hands are gentle against your cheek and you're almost swayed by the rumbling timbre of his voice and the low cadence. It's lulling you, but by bit, deeper and deeper.

"I've been thinking." You repeat with a little more force, lifting your head up to state your point across. You collapse back down a moment later when the room spins a bit. Perhaps you were too hasty ( goddammit ) and you content yourself with settling into the mattress and pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

His lashes flutter. There is fond exasperation there, melting into his chest and his nearly-there smile like butter. Its the most Zhongli thing about him, the tiny moments and peeks in through. "Alas." He sighs, nudging you close, laying your head over his bicep. "Tell me then."

Zhongli watches the way your shoulders hunch and your lips quirk. "A willing audience? How grand..."

"A little too willing, I'm afraid. I spoiled you so."

Your hands splay against his shoulders. He's warm.

"It's only going to take a minute. In fact, it's only a question. All I need are answers and that will only take as long as you want it to."

Ah there it is, the narrowed squint, the subtle shift and the signs of a slightly more alert Zhongli ( the Zhongli who'd straighten his back and cattishly stare at someone who dares to mention the name of some obscure historic even or little known tea ). "Ask me, then."

You fall silent, looking for your words.

"I was wondering. Is geo resonance susceptible to tearing apart organic tissue? How little is needed for it to do so, and how little for it to...not...?"

You don't think there is a sane way of phrasing that, to be fair. But you'd ask stranger things, always digging and questioning and presenting the wildest little ideas on odd days of the week. It's a side effect of the Akademiya and a lack of sages sushing you into a corner with a pile of textbooks and dry edged annoyance. And maybe the very aforementioned abandonment of shame.

"And by organic tissue..."

"Human flesh, Zhongli."

"Ah."

"More specifically muscles, tendons, bones...maybe even neural tissue to be fair. Any of that stuff."

Zhongli has the grace to not react, or give much away in his contemplation. You knock your head against his chin in gentle assurance. "You don't have to answer of course."

"It's certainly a strange one." He admits.

"It is." You grumble.

"Well..." He trails off before a breathy little chuckle trembles past. "We'll, I can't say I know a proper answer to this one. It's quite specific isn't it?"

"Horribly so. Different tissue have different densities. You can afford to be a little rougher with bone, for example. But something softer like grey matter would require far more finesse."

His hand is steady against the small of your back. "And you ask this because..."

Your lips tug at the corners. "An old junior of mine sent a letter in. The boy graduated from the Spantamad Darshan in my absence and had plenty of news to share regarding a few new experiments with elemental energy and the like." You turn over a moment. "If we could find the precise frequency needed, we may just be able to utilize geo resonances for medical diagnostics."

Zhongli blinks. It's a slow, thoughtful thing.

"That is fascinating." He muses. "So you seek to map put internal injuries then? Or perhaps tumours?"

"Yes!" You eagerly nod at that. "There are Fontanian inventors...and skilled akademics. They're calling a few alumni in to aud in the research."

Your cheek tucks into the crook of his neck. You feel his warmth and the too-slow heartbeat carefully wrapped in his chest, between ribs and flesh — made of anything but stone ( You're filled with a hunger. Zhongli calls it endearing, your passion, as quiet as it can be sometimes ).

"You were invited too." He guesses.

"Yes."

His lips test against your neck. "How long?"

"A while." You look outside, to the balcony and the horizon in the distance. Then you see Zhongli's face, his hair undone and sweep against your temple as he kisses you proper.

"Then go, little love."

"Are you sure?" You suddenly feel awful, and small, and selfish. Liyue had stuck fast to the buttery feelings in your chest and Zhongli had made himself a home there as well. A part of you wants to sneak him into your trunk, sprit him away to Sumeru. It's greedy, immature ( he's always waited for you, patiently ).

"Quite." He kisses your cheek next. "What's a few months?"

"An eternity." You grunt.

Zhongli is silent for a long, long moment. "Right now...it would be, yes." He says in the afterthoughts. "And will miss you terribly. But I've waited before, and I don't see why I cannot now."

He laces his fingers against yours.

"I'll write to you every week." You promise.

"Every week." He promises and he smiles his almost smile. You kiss his forehead. He sighs. "For now...I will say it again. Go to sleep."

"Yes, yes." You mutter, snuggling in. Zhongli tucks his hand beneath your knees and swings one leg over his waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Let me be greedy, he seems to say.

You let him.

TAGLIST ノ join the taglist. — @silentmoths @meimeimeirin @sleepynoons @iuzas @endursent.

@jessamine-rose @ofoceansandtombsanew @chiyoso @loveliluc

[dragonqueenbizawagi]

You know, the thing is... most people don't know shit about ghosts. A lot of times people jump to "it's haunted" because they don't know what's going on. I want one time for Danny to realize that there's actually a carbon monoxide leak or buggy light fixture or black mold or something (maybe multiple somethings compiled), and fix it with just his common electrical engineering and household maintenance he picked up from his parents (the latter because they were too busy upgrading the house's traps to check the monoxide detector and such, and they made him clean up hazardous materials in the lab, so I feel he could handle mold).

To make this even more fun, let's continue torturing Constantine! He and Danny start working together because John wants to teach him how to at least con people properly for fucks sake! ("It's not conning if it works Connie!" "You and both know it ain't that bloody Hollywood exorcism bullshit doing the work") So on one of their first few houses, they get a case of carbon monoxide/black mold/creaky house/faulty wiring/whatever mundane explanation(s) that people mistake for ghosts. Connie doesn't realize at first, he thinks they're just here to do some fake bs and the real ghosts have all been scared off by Danny's strange aura.

Now, usually, Constantine is smarter (or more cynical) than this, and can remember to properly check for mundane explanations. But at this point he's too preoccupied by Danny's weirdness (and sass – Danny's sass is critical to properly annoying Constantine for optimal amusement) to do his job properly. That coupled with the fact that he doesn't think there really is a job this time – not with Danny around – and his guard is dropped. So when the signs of a "haunting" start popping up (flickering lights, strange smell, unsettling feelings), Constantine freaks because what the fuck could still be here that hasn't been scared off by Danny?! Last one was a bloody demon!

Danny, a bit more rational and possibly not affected by the neurological effects of black mold/carbon monoxide (or at least not to the same extent) due to ghost biology bs, calmly locates the problems and points them out. He proceeds to solve them or tell the homeowner he'll come back to fix it once he has the tools, leaving one confused/concerned homeowner (who still worries it's haunted anyway, only to be assured by Danny that they'll still cleanse the house to be safe because, "You hired us to exterminate spooks! We wouldn't be doing our job if we didn't do anything for them too!"), and one thoroughly embarrassed Constantine!

Alternatively, feel free to take this in the other direction of Constantine being the experienced one to point out how many "hauntings" are really just old houses showing their wear and tear. And Danny only then piping up when Constantine shrugs it off and just tells the homeowner to hire some repairmen, to say "I could fix that for you!" Revealing another, weirdly... normal layer to this kid, he's got actual real-life skills and was apparently a freelance electrician before this? Constantine expected a weirder backstory for someone so nonchalantly powerful (oh, little does he know....)

Anyway! Here's your random reminder to check your carbon monoxide detectors! And always check for mundane sources of problems, not just magical/supernatural ones. By all means, cleanse your house of malicious spirits, but also physically clean your house of suspicious stains. The mundane is not entirely separate from the magical, people! What if the evil spirits are trying to kill you through growing black mold in your bedroom, huh? What if that's their mode of attack? (btw, please feel free to have Danny explain any/all of this to the homeowner if you write this out)

Another dpxdc prompt (sorry it’s been so long)

So Danny, now grown up and the ghost king, is looking for a job. However bc of his responsibilities as king a normal job won’t do. He would need to be able to make his own hours and such. He tried to be a freelance repair/electrical guy (thx mum and dad for those skills) but it never made that much money.

Then one day, prompted by a joke comment from Tucker about going back to ghost fights, he has a great idea!!

That’s how ‘Spook exterminator’ is born!! (He wanted to call it ghost busters but that was trademarked)

He essentially becomes an exorcist for higher and is very good at it. See what he didn’t know before this is that the ghost his use to, realm ghost, are actually the strongest type of ghost and as the king of them he is the strongest of them. This essentially means he has a ‘top predator’ vibe that sends most non realm ghost running before he even steps into the building. All he has to do then is call upon his inter theatre kid and put on a good show before leaving with a full wallet.

It’s not like he’s scamming them or anything. He is getting rid of the ghost! He just likes putting a little flare to it! Plus it gives him better tips.

Anyway cutting over to Constantine who, drunk out of his mind, thinks it would be hilarious to higher some bogus exorcist he saw a flier for and take them to the most haunted house he knowns just to see what happens.

He was definitely not expecting every ghost to hightail it out of there before the guy even step foot in the door. For a second he thought that maybe he was wrong about the guy being bogus and that maybe he was actually an very skilled exorcist but then he proceeded to do the most fake ritual he had ever fucking seen. The guy couldn’t even speak Latin!!

Needless to say John was very confused

[wonderjanga]

The Flask

Literally any hero that knows Captain Marvel will tell you that the man is absolutely amazing, pure and above anything such as cheating, drinking, or even smoking. The JL knows this, the YJ knows this, Teen Titans know this, even the Fawcett heroes know this.

Billy didn’t know this. He honestly had no clue other heroes looked up to him that much but anyways, we have to talk about the prelude to this incident.

See, Billy was minding his own business walking through the trenches, because let’s be honest that’s where he lives, (or at least that’s where he lives in the Superman/Shazam movie). Anyways, on this walk home, he finds a flask just on the ground. He picked it up.

Billy: “Oh cool! A water bottle! It’s a little small though.”

Yeah… anyways, he went to a gas station and cleaned it out of any remaining funny smelling liquid. He even filled it with some tapwater when he was done. So… Kablam!

Strange Water Bottle: Acquired!

Let Billy tell you, he was so proud about finding this water bottle. It had a cool sunflower on it and everything. And sure maybe adults look at him weirdly whenever he drinks from it but whatever! He has a water bottle now!

In fact, he was so happy about this water bottle, he even took it to work, a.k.a. superheroing.

Marvel: *finishes beating up a villain and takes out his flash so he can drink some water*

Fawcitizen: “Wow… Guess the cheese is finally letting loose, huh?”

Elderly Fawcitizen: “It’s about damn time. That young man has been slaving around with the other heroes saving people for years. Let him let loose.”

Fawcitizen: *nods head* “Never heard a truer statement.”

The elderly Fawcitizen and the other Fawcitizen were a little concerned at how he was downing the flask without faltering in the slightest but whatever. It’s the Cheese. Just let him do that.

The Fawcett heroes didn’t think the same though. They wanted to bring up what could’ve happened to make him feel the need to do this, but they also didn’t know if Cap would answer honestly. Heck, he might even offended, and they don’t want that! So, they bit their tongues and kept quiet.

Of course, Billy didn’t just take his water bottle out whenever he was in Fawcett. He took it out just about anywhere. This has led to some interesting interactions with others, not that he minds.

Constantine: “I didn’t fancy you to own one of those, mate.” *points to Billy’s sunflower flask*

Marvel: “Why wouldn’t I?”

Constantine: “Touché.” *offers his own flask so they can clink them together*

Constantine and Marvel: *clinks them*

Billy was absolutely ecstatic that someone else had a water bottle like his. Now, of course, there have been negative interactions with his water bottle.

Marvel: *doing security for whatever reason at the UN and sipping from his “water bottle”*

Security Guard: *watching this* “Quite distasteful, no?”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Security Guard: “I mean, this is a gathering of world leaders.”

Marvel: “So…?”

Security Guard: “So I think you’d have the tact to not drink from that here, but apparently not.”

Billy was majorly bummed that some people didn’t like his water bottle but you know what? Whatever.

By the way, because of the fact none of the heroes know why he started “drinking” they just blame each other. More specifically the JL blames the Fawcett heroes while the Fawcett heroes blame the JL.

Again to remind you, anything in Billy’s flask is water.

Also, he eventually found out that his “water bottle” was a flask from Solomon and promptly started leaving the thing at home so he could only drink from there because he was absolutely not getting rid of it.

All the heroes were glad when the sunflower flask suddenly disappeared.

[vellazx]

Reincarnated!Roger Luffy x Reincarnated!Rouge Reader — a small drabble of mine!

It was hard working for the Navy, whenever the man whom you adored so dearly was bound to be your enemy for life.

How it happened? It was a long story… And you couldn’t quite put it all into words.

It started two years ago, all the way back in Alabasta, when you were sent out for a job with your coworker, Smoker.

The two of you could be considered as ‘friends’. He rambled to you the whole way there about a wanted pirate who went by the name of ‘Straw Hat Luffy’, at the time bearing a 30 million Berry bounty.

He was just a rookie. It would be easy for someone of your rank to take him down. You were respected by even the three Admirals themselves, probably only a level below them in terms of power.

So why was it that when you did come face to face with him, the two of you just locked eyes, as if entranced by each other.

Your heart skipped a beat in that very moment. And for some reason, he smiled at you, making your sudden jittery behavior and nervousness a thousand times worse.

You were so ashamed of yourself. You allowed him to simply run past you with that toothy grin of his, beaming with confidence and recklessness.

Smoker didn’t let you off lightly after watching that scene. But you didn’t argue against him, no. You fully believed you deserved it.

But why did that happen in the first place? He was a pirate, and you didn’t take yourself as the type to fall in love at first sight. You’ve never done that.

You couldn’t continue to help Smoker and the swordswoman always by his side, Tashigi, in capturing the Straw Hats. Especially their captain.

It was like your body acted on its own, forcing you to leave. After that encounter, you endured a mental crisis for nearly an entire month.

He just felt so… familiar. It unsettled you.

Why did it feel like you had met him before?

After Alabasta, you somehow ended getting tied up in his daily pirate schemes, as if you just couldn’t escape him.

Sabaody Archipelago, the Navy Headquarters, Punk Hazard… You could name even more times that you’ve met with him in abnormal circumstances.

And every time you fought him, every accidental brush of hands that made your cheeks heat up, your feelings got worse, and worse, and worse…

Why him?

Of all people, why him?

To make things worse, you could feel yourself… distancing from your duty. Your job. Like he was influencing you.

You started thinking weird things, strange things.

‘The World Government? I don’t trust them.’

You didn’t trust them? Yes you did. They wanted justice for the world, and you did, too.

‘They’re corrupted.’

No they aren’t.

‘In the name of justice? Don’t make me laugh. They don’t care about justice… They only want power.’

It was like there was a second voice in your head. An alter ego, almost…

All the while, in the midst of those thoughts… Your mind always reeled back to him. His stupid face that made your heart flutter. That smile of his, that was so infectious you couldn’t help but return a smile, which you didn’t realize most of the time.

He would point it out mid-fight, too.

“Hey, you’re smiling!”

“You’re seeing things, Straw Hat!”

You also couldn’t help but realize that during your meaningless duels, all his attention would be solely on you. Of course, when fighting someone, that was normal. But the way he looked at you… Did enemies look at each other like that?

His eyes shone, full of adoration. He always smiled at you, even if you wanted him to take you seriously. He didn’t gaze at you like he did his other opponents. He always stared them down with anger, or irritation.

He hardly knew anything about you, other than how well you fought when you clashed on the battlefield. But at the same time, he felt like he knew everything about you.

It took you by surprise one day, when he opened up his own confusion to you.

“It feels like I’ve met you before. Before Vivi’s country!”

Before Alabasta? That was where you first met two years ago.

And he was saying that he felt like he knew you before your meeting in the country?

“You must be crazy, Straw Hat…”

You said that, but you felt the same. And… he said he felt the same. You would’ve never expected him to be on the road of confusion, as you were.

You hated to admit it, but Straw Hat Luffy was the center of your thoughts ever since your first meeting. He indirectly influenced you, resulting in you slowly developing a distasteful attitude toward the World Government and all your coworkers.

He’s never even said anything to you about hating the World Government, yet your thoughts of him were changing you.

For better, or for worse? You had no idea.

It was impossible for you to deny the way your eyes softened, and the way your muscles became less tense when he was around.

In battle, you’d have to be the one to fight him if you were present. No one else. Not even if an Admiral offered to assist you in taking him down.

Because for some reason… For some odd, odd reason…

…You were paranoid that they’d be able to defeat him, and he’d die on an execution platform, leaving you alone with your feelings until your own death.

Why did it feel like… that’s already happened before?

You couldn’t let it happen again.

[liahaslosthermind]

𝑬𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏

Summary: The 4 times the Night Court’s Shadowsinger mentioned… someone, and the first time his family got the promise of an answer. 

Content: Angst, with the promise of future fluff

Warnings: Angst, I like making Azriel sad sorry, I also take the ‘mate talk’ in the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter and rewrite it to fit this story. I also haven’t read CC yet so apologies if Bryce is OOC Azriel x OC [not introduced in this part]

*Slight spoilers for the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter

Bryce turned to the fae female next to her, “You have a mate, don’t you?” Nesta simply nodded in response, a slight smile forming on her face, followed by a deep blush. “Do you?” The red head directed at Azriel.

Nesta’s stomach dropped. She knew it was a sore subject for the Shadowsinger. What with everyone else in his family being mated except for him-

“I do.” He said, a trace of apprehension in his voice. Nesta’s head snapped to face him so quickly that her vision spun for a moment, causing her to stumble.

Regaining her footing, she barked out, “Azriel? What the fuck do you mean?”

The trio stopped walking for a moment, tension settling over the once calm night air. She gave him a demanding, and slightly betrayed, look. Even though his eyes met hers, Azriel kept quiet. Bryce simply looked between the two, face wrinkling in the awkwardness of the moment.

“Ah. A sore subject, I guess?” Bryce laughed, or tried to, it only came out forced and uncomfortable. 

“Who, Az? How come I had no idea? Does anyone know?” There wasn’t anger in her voice, just hurt. 

He had to bite back his usual replies, the ones he gave to his family when they tried to ask questions or bring up the topic without him bringing it up first. Not that he ever did. 

“She’s-” he swallowed. Cauldron, when would he finally be able to talk about her without wishing the world would swallow him whole? “It’s not something I want to discuss right now, especially with present company.” He sent a pointed look at Bryce. He couldn’t hide the misery in his tone this time though as he took a deep breath and continued, “I will tell you about her, Nes. One day. I’d just rather do it on my own terms. On my own time.” Nesta opened her mouth, seconds away from arguing, when he put a hand on her shoulder, “Please.” he begged, softly. 

The glimmer of silver in his eyes caught her off guard, gave her such a knee jerk reaction of protectiveness that she gave him a crushing hug. It was strange, this feeling. Azriel, the broody, closed off, terrifying, annoyingly perceptive, kind, and unbelievably loving friend she never knew she needed had just revealed a part of himself she could tell he kept locked away for good reason. The thought that even the mention of his mate could bring him to tears made her heart break in a way she thought impossible after all she had been through. 

She took a deep breath as she pulled away, “When you’re ready,” she agreed.

He smiled back at her, while it was genuine, one of the few he reserved for his family, there was still insurmountable pain in his eyes. 

Nesta turned back to Bryce, “Can you play more of your music? Just none of that screaming one.” She asked, shaking her head at the memory of the Death Metal genre she hadn’t liked when the redhead had played it for them. 

She smiled softly as she felt Azriel squeeze her hand in a silent Thank you before he let go. 

The High Lord sat, feet propped up on his desk. “When do you head out for Rosehall?” He asked.

Azriel, standing by the window to the right of his brother, answered, “The morning after Solstice.” Rhysand grimaced when he heard the mask of indifference his Spy Master had in his voice. “I still need to pick up a gift before I go.”

Rhys took it for the invitation it was. “Would you buy her something from me? On my account this time.” He tried to put on his commanding-High-Lord voice as he said it, but he knew very well that Azriel wouldn’t listen to the last part of his request even as his brother smiled in agreement as he walked out of the room, sending an inclination of goodbye to his High Lady in the chair across from her mate. 

“Rosehall? What female is he visiting the day after Solstice?” Feyre spoke into her mate’s mind. 

Despite Rhys’ usual inability to keep anything from his mate, he couldn't bring himself to explain, couldn’t bring himself to cross the very clear lines his brother had set all those years ago. 

“It's not my story to tell. And don’t ask someone else, if any of them know, they also won’t talk.” 

Certainly not the answer she had expected, as was evident by the look on Feyre’s face.

“And if I ask Azriel?” she inquired.

“It will just bring up things he isn't ready to share. He will come to you- come to us- some day.” ‘One day’ Azriel had promised his family long ago, long before their family had been as big as it was now. “I just pray it's under better circumstances.” 

Feyre froze, feeling the weight of mixed negative emotions flowing down from her mate’s side of the bond. For once, she was even more confused after asking Rhysand for more information. 

“Well, I believe we’ve reached the threshold of faked amiability before one of us attacks the other. We should quit while we’re ahead.” Eris said as he stood up from his chair, starting to grab his papers without so much as a glance to his reluctant hosts. Even years after their alliance was set in stone with the agreement from the Night Court to back Eris’ claim to his father’s throne, even after fighting beside them in war, these faked niceties could only go on for so long before the claws came out. 

No one in the Night Court’s Inner circle could say there was anything but relief to see the Autumn Court’s High Lord walk away. But before they could let out a breath of relief, Eris stopped and turned to the Shadowsinger. 

“I have received word that your… gift has been finished. I will send someone to get it to you within the week.” 

Azriel’s head quickly snapped to Eris, “And they were able to meet all my requests?” He asked, not caring that everyone else in the room watched the interaction with fierce intrigue. 

The eldest living Vanserra boy scoffed, “I assured you they’d be able to.” Azriel let out a relieved breath at that. While he’d known Eris’ court capable of such a thing, it wasn’t much more difficult than lesser magics, but hearing it confirmed ignited hope he didn’t know he still carried.

“Thank you. She’ll love it.” The Spy Master replied earnestly, much to Eris’, as well as the rest of the Inner Circle’s, shock. 

The red haired fae simply schooled his features and nodded in response before winnowing away. 

Despite the heaviness all the secrets and questions caused, everyone remained silent as they watched Azriel slip out of the room. 

The dining room had been filled with loud chatter for the weekly family dinner. Love filled teasing and relentless jokes put everyone in a good mood. Nothing felt better to the Night Court’s Inner Circle than being all together. Unfortunately, it had to come to an end. 

“I’ll be leaving for a few days.” Azriel told Rhysand, who was sitting to his left at the head of the table. “I’ll be back for Solstice.” He quickly added. 

“I thought you were leaving the day after?” 

“I was, but the package I had been waiting on came, and I’d like to deliver it as soon as possible. I’ll drop your gift off too.” With that, Azriel got up, nodding a quick goodbye to his family, before disappearing into his shadows.

It wasn’t a request to have a few days off. He hadn’t asked if his High Lord could spare not having his Spymaster for a little. He didn’t even wait for any sort of goodbye from the rest of his family. He just left, the house sending his place setting away to be cleaned, as if he had never been there in the first place. 

Once again, everyone had questions, concerns, for their friend. But no one spoke up, as per usual. 

Until the one fae in the room with truly no information in the matter grew concerned enough with everyone’s immediate change in attitudes. 

“Where is he going?” Elain asked, looking between her friends and family. 

She saw on everyone's faces, in their eyes that refused to meet hers, that no one would tell her. Till she sent a look, full of concerned innocence, to Cassian. 

“Rosehall” He blurted out. “Or at least, I assume that's where he is going.” The last part was directed towards his older brother. 

“Where is this Rosehall?” Feyre asked, feeling he invitation Elain’s question had opened into the untouchable subject. 

The High Lady, like her second oldest sister, sent a look to Rhys, knowing he'd break for her under an embarrassingly small amount of pressure. 

“None of us know,” he gave in, “He goes at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes he’s there, often, for months. Then he will go quite a while without any visits.”

“Is it his mate? Is that who he is seeing?” Nesta inquires. 

The word seems to suck all the air out of the room. His mate. Azriel’s mate. Their brother’s mate.

Nesta’s stomach drops at the looks she receives from Cassian and Rhysand. 

They didn’t know. 

As she opens her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by a palm smacking the table.

“Enough! You all know damn well this isn’t what he would want. The only reason you all seem so comfortable talking about it is because he's gone, too preoccupied to leave a shadow behind.” Mor argues. “He has asked one thing of us in the 500 years he has been by our side, to let him- let them- be.”

With that, she winnowed out of the room, leaving a suffocating mix of guilt, confusion, and concern behind. 

Everyone could feel his presence the second he got back to the house. The light and happy Solstice air seemed to vanish in an instant. The shadows suddenly alive and wreathing. 

Rhys and Cassian had gotten up to check on their brother. While he had said he’d be gone till Solstice, they had assumed he would be there the full day to celebrate with everyone. But he had missed celebrations, for both Solstice and Feyre’s birthday, had missed dinner, and had sent no indication that he was even alive. His mental walls had been as fortified as ever, not letting Rhysand nor Feyre in the numerous times they had tried to check in. 

Their walk over to their brother’s room became a run, followed by the rest of the family, as they heard a loud crash. 

The room was dark, but they could make out the faint outline of the broken mirror and Shadowsinger standing in front of it, holding his hand as blood seemed to drip from a wound. In the dark, the sight was unsettling, but in the light, it was far worse. 

Cassian moved quickly, leaving Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle by the door in stunned silence. 

“Woah-” Cassian said as he lifted Azriel’s hand, causing his brother to pull back in startled shock. He hadn’t known they were coming. Hadn’t sensed their presence even then they were right in front of him.

“It’s okay, Az. But we need to clean out the wound. Make sure there aren't any shards in-” The general stopped as he looked at the Spymaster, seeing the tears streaming down his usually stone cold face. 

All he could do was help him sit down as Mor, seemingly better equipped to handle the situation, came over to kneel in front of her long time friend. 

“Az?” She took his uninjured hand in hers, her other hand going to his face to wipe away the tears. “Come on, maybe you shoul-”

“She’s gotten worse.” He admitted, his voice noticeably wobbling, “So much worse, Mor.” 

Mor quickly looked at everyone else, seeing the shock, the empathy, and worse of all, the pity. She knew more than the others, not the full story, not even close, but enough to know that their reactions were part of why he kept all of it a secret. He couldn’t handle their emotions on top of his.

By the time she looked back, she saw that Azriel had noticed it too. She could see him shrinking back into himself, trying to hide everything. 

She couldn’t let it happen again. 

“Let me in, Azriel. Don’t pretend, don’t go through 200 more years of this.” She pleaded. Luckily, this seemed to pull him back out. “Let us all in, please?”

“I can’t- I don’t want pity.” He admitted.

Rhysand spoke up this time. “Is that what you think this is? Just pity? Az, come on. We all love you, we want you to be happy. But we don’t want fake happiness. Seeing you like this makes us all upset, because we love you. Please, let us prove it. Let us in.” Rhysand begged. 

Azriel gave them all a onceover, emotion showing so clearly in his face, in his eyes, that no one seemed to be able to breathe. 

He took a deep breath before speaking up, “Tomorrow. I’ll explain- show you all, tomorrow. For now, I’d just like to celebrate Solstice, and your birthday, Feyre, with my family.” 

The air lightened up a little bit at the promise. Tomorrow, they’d all face what Azriel had been dealing with alone for 200 years. But tonight, they would all celebrate Solstice, the return of light and promise of a brighter future, as a family. 

[lucygraysboy]

“my ma had once attempted to teach me when i was little, but i was too rambunctious to be able to focus on knitting for more than fifteen minutes. promise i’m a lot more patient now,” the cowboy laughs, pale blue eyes taking in the look on lucy gray’s face, hypnotized. these doe-like hues will be the death of him. all the kindness that’s buried deep inside her chest seems to be shining right through, making him feel so mushy and warm on the inside. she truly deserves the world, and he’ll do everything in his power to give it to her. “speakin’ of songs… was you singin’ a song when i first saw you? i was so exhausted and dehydrated, it’s all so blurry now but i thought i was at the gates of heaven and an angel was welcomin’ me with a song. what were you singin’ ‘bout?” he wonders out loud, just now reminded of the moment he first laid eyes on her. he was so out of it, and now he can barely tell what really happened and what’s only a figment of his imagination. “thanks for thinkin’ so. i didn’t want ‘im to be no outlaw. i wanted ‘im to have an honest job an’ a good life.” but now that joe’s gone, billy can’t help but wonder if maybe he was a little too hard on the boy, expected too much of him. “always. well, except for the time i went and beat up her husband ‘cause he kept makin’ her cry, bringin’ no money home, stealin’ hers… spendin’ it all in brothels and saloons. she told me to leave ‘im be, but i couldn’t.” his pride and honor and the love he had for her wouldn’t let him. 

“yeah? good ‘cause i would never.” boss her around. he thinks that’s how it should be — men should listen to women more often, they’d benefit from that. “i’m mr. sugar bucket sweet potato, and you’re miss birdie boo little carrot,” he laughs, not caring the names make little to no sense. it’s the thought and affection that counts. “i mean, i kind of understand. if i was a goat, i wouldn’t let no strange cowboy near my udders either. i’d kick ‘im in the head.” expression softening as she touches his cheek, his heart melting into a puddle, making it difficult for him to focus on anything but the way her hand feels so nice and somehow soothes the sunburn on his skin. “i’m hungry, too. it’s ‘cause of that lake. water always makes you hungry, is what i’ve noticed.” he follows her back outside, where the last rays of the setting sun have painted the porch a warm, golden hue. it’s a little more humid now, but the wind remains pleasant, lacking its bite. he lays the potatoes down on the table and takes a seat opposite to her, just so that he can admire her beautiful features in this light. if he only could paint, he’d paint her like this. “this is real nice. this table, i mean. beautiful carpentry.” he praises, but what he actually means is this, the two of them doing something so mundane together after a long, fun day, is nice. he wouldn’t mind spending every afternoon for the rest of his life doing this. “i don’t know if i’ve ever told you this, but i’m a very experienced potato-peeler. it was always my job to peel ‘em when i was little,” he brags with a smile, his hands, rough and calloused moving with practiced ease, as if peeling potatoes was as natural as roping a steer to him. 

"that's exactly why i was thinkin' it'd be good to teach you." he already read her mind, she was thinking it could be useful when he sets out on his own. a shy smile spills over kind visage at being called sweet, of course she remembered. and of course each time he says another sweet thing, it flushes her in a warm sensation of love. fills that void and all the hurt that being talked down to by the preacher that has carved a hole in her chest with, a little at each time. "course i think so. poem's are beautiful. poem's are a lot like songs... and i do love writin' songs." speaking fondly, smiling affectionately. "well, for some reason i think that's cute," lucy gray laughs, the part about bossing his brother around because he wanted to take good care of him. "and at least you listened to your mother." so safe to say, she finds that cute too. putting a cute grin on her face because it's adorable he was stubborn but still so respectful to his mama. "i'm just playin' with you, billy. i don't think you would." a gentle expression softens her features as she peers up at him, after handing him his armful of vegetables. "you're a sweet potato." since they're holding potatoes, small laugh emitting.

hand reaches up to gently pat his cheek, he's so cute, he's gotta stop being that cute in personality and his eyes are too big and pure for her heart to handle. "it's best i do that, anyway. she really is picky with that. she might really try to bite you if you grab on her udders." the brunette laughs, but genuinely feels bad for shamus for being scarred by men. "i'm hungry." amusingly replying, scooping out an armful of carrots next before shutting the lid back. "alright, let's go." grabbing a pan, she leads them back out of the house and off the porch and climbs onto the picnic table's seat before dumping her vegetables on the table top and sitting the pan down. she's got a knife sitting in the middle, she goes ahead and grabs that and starts cutting.