#i didn't mean for this to be kind of angsty

[paulyenvol6]

Fine Line

This is a smutty one shot with Joel Miller x reader and it's based on this request. Very angsty and lots of dom!Joel with daddy vibes and subby reader. I had so much fun writing this so thank you so much for the amazing request and feel free to send me whatever you want me to write. Enjoy <3

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, edging, orgasm denial, mentions of safe word, dubcon, daddy kink, dom and mean Joel, sub!reader, degrading, mentions of words like whore/bitch/slut, angst, anxiety, panic, fainting, having sex although the other person wants to stop, crying, aftercare, soft Joel in the end

Wordcount: ~6.41k

Masterlist

Joel was horny tonight.

You could see it in the way his lips were always slightly parted and his chest rose and fell more heavily than usual.

And he was simply more responsive to your arm that would brush against his side every now again or your hand against his chest. He had been like that the whole evening and now as you lay in his arms on the couch you couldn't help but think about the way you could take advantage of the situation.

When Joel was craving sex with you he was more willing to do you a favor just because he needed you so much that he didn't have the patience to think about what you were asking of him. And maybe, just maybe tonight could be one of those nights where you would be able to get exactly what you were yearning for.

It was clear to you that Joel was intiating sex when he wrapped an arm around your waist to press you to his center while covering your neck with sloppy kisses. He gently removed your hair to softly bite and mark your neck until you felt brave enough to come forward with your request.

"Joel?" you asked softly and he hummed against your skin. "Mhm?"

"I want you to be mean to me. Please."

It wasn't like the two of you were vanilla when it came to sex. You had tried a lot of different things that could be called kinky but Joel tended to be a little more careful with certain things than you were.

Your suspicion was that the reason for that was your age gap. You were in your early twenties after all and although he should really know how much you adored being with him and that you would never want to treat this life with him for a life with a younger man your age, you believed that he didn't love it because he didn't want to emphasize or increase the power imbalance between the two of you. Which you, quite frankly, hated.

Because he was so good at it that when you got your favourite freaky Joel you longed for him days after and begged him to be rough with you at any time of the day. Sometimes Joel played along to make you happy because that was what he was after at the end of the day but you always had a feeling that he felt bad after degrading you.

But now he chuckled and his hand became more firm on your stomach to hold you close to him.

"Ya want me to be mean? But you were such a good little kitten today, ain't that right?"

You gave him your biggest puppy eyes while turning in his lap so you could look at him.

"Please daddy. I want you to. I was good, yes, so please do me the favor."

Joel sighed and took your face in his hands. You loved when he did that, because his hands were so big that it felt like he was covering the whole side of your face.

"You want me to be mean to my favourite little pussy? That's gonna make me feel very bad, honey."

You were growing impatient now because you didn't know if Joel was simply teasing you or actually still considering treating you roughly tonight so you shifted in his lap rocking yourself against his crotch in order to get him hard.

"Ugh uh, babygirl," he growled at once and stopped you by placing his hands on your hips.

"If you want me to be hard on you, you're only gonna do what I tell you to do. That's your only task."

You had to surpress a proud smile because you finally had evoked the kind of Joel you needed right now. He was mocking you, treating you like you needed guidance with everything and would surely punish you if need be.

"I will. Please be hard on me, daddy, I need it."

He smirked and softly pulled at you bottom lip with his thumb.

"God…, will you look at that," he said with a husky voice and observed the way you lip snapped back.

"Such a silly girl. Beggin' me to treat you like shit when you usually ask for your sweet 'n nice daddy almost all the time."

He cupped your chin with his hand in order to observe you precisely and bit his lip at your sight.

"You want me to be mean? Then I'm gonna be really mean, baby. Gonna treat you like shit. S'this what ya want?"

Yes, that was what you wanted and you could already feel your pussy dripping at his words. Too stunned to speak you nodded determinedly but it wasn't enough for Joel.

"Words," he demanded and tapped against your bottom lip.

"I want it. Want you to be really mean."

He smirked and carefully, almost as if you were something fragile tilted your head in his hands. Then, within seconds he had grabbed your waist and moved the two of you over so you were on your back while he hovered over you. You let out a giggle which he instantly surpressed by pressing his lips on yours until you were left breathless.

"Joel," you murmured against his mouth and wrapped your arms around him.

You wanted to test him, provoke him to the point where he would snap and put you in your place. Perhaps he was aware of your strategy but he still played along.

"Hands to yourself," he whispered and pinned your wrists down over your head with one hand.

"Joel," you whispered again but now he seemed to have officially taken on his role because his eyes remained cold and indifferent.

"Do you have something to say? Otherwise you're gonna shut up unless I tell you to speak."

With a bubbly feeling in your belly you shook your head and waited for what he would do next. He watched you for a while like he was a predator taking in the view of his helpless victim in front of him and you almost started to feel so impatient that you wondered if you should ask him to go on when he finally moved his hands to your waist in order to tug at the fabric and pull it up.

He revealed your belly, thumb drawing circles over your skin and exposed your abdomen until the underside of your chest was bare under his gaze.

"Not wearin' a fuckin' bra? Jesus Christ…," he growled and you clenched your thighs at his husky voice.

"Please," you moaned already feeling so tense and full of accumulated pleasure that you needed him to finally touch you now.

"And she's already begging me like a pathetic bitch," Joel's sharp voice cut through the air leaving you big-eyed.

"I just know that if I didn't take such care of you you'd whore your way around the city spreadin' those pretty legs for every breathing creature. 'Cause you're a needy slut that can't ever get enough."

He squeezed your breast at his words which forced you to let out a gasp. For a moment you had to remind yourself that Joel didn't actually think that way about you but he was playing this role for you. He was just so good at it that you feared he would make you feel so little that you would start to believe his evil words.

Both his hands were now busy with kneading your breasts so roughly that the throbbing between your legs became more intense the longer he proceeded. You pressed your thighs together, a pathetic attempt to get rid of it but it didn't really work so you shifted your hips to search for his knee between your legs.

When Joel realized what you were doing he harshly opened your legs with his knee leaving you feel even more uncomfortable. His hand enclosed around your nipple which got him your attention and you submissively looked up to him.

"Stupid girl. Pissin' me off after begging me to be rough with you. You're gonna take all of it now, babygirl and I swear to god I'll ignore your crying or beggin' or complainin' 'n you can moan my name as often as you like, I'll keep going until I'm satisfied."

As much as you were looking forward to this promise you couldn't help but feel a little reluctant as well because you were familiar with his ways of torturing and teasing you and the prospect of spending the night pleading and begging him to finally give you what you wanted wasn't exactly comfortable. But you had asked for this after all. You loved it when he was mean to you and you knew it would be worth it.

A shiver rippled down your spine as you felt him twist your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger while he simultaneously kneaded your other breast. It was a fine line between pleasure and pain that he overstepped every now and which would then leave you breathless and with tears in your eyes when he pulled a little too hard on your nipple. Then you placed your hand on his but Joel merely snorted furiously and pushed you away.

"I said you're gonna take it. Without fuckin' annoyin' me. Stick those fingers into your mouth if you can't keep 'em to yourself."

You wavered, unsure whether this was a command or not but eventually you coiled your hands into fists and pressed them to your side while letting Joel use you the way he wanted. He really took his time tonight, exploring and stroking every inch of your body he could reach and when he finally removed his hands you expected him to unbuckle his belt but to your surprise he didn't. Instead he first pulled your shirt over your head so your upper body was finally completely bare and then his fingers came down to your jeans to open them.

"Joel," you whispered and licked away the sweat that had gathered above your top lip.

"Shut up and do as I say," he muttered fretfully while pulling the fabric down. "S'all I'm fuckin' asking of you, okay? Can you just obey me for once in your life?"

You nodded slowly your eyes brimming with a new wetness that hadn't been there before. No, no, no, you couldn't allow yourself to take his rough words to heart. This wasn't Joel, this was the kind of Joel you had wanted. You liked it and you wanted to get degraded by him because of the way it made you feel. You had been looking forward to this so much and you would stay focused. Joel didn't mean it and afterwards he would hold you and tell you how much he loved you. He was just playing. Acting.

You snapped back when he had taken your jeans off and watched your quaking hands with a mixture of arrogance and enjoyment.

"Open your mouth," he demanded while gripping your chin. Once you showed him your flat tongue he spitted into your mouth examining how his spit landed on your tongue and then tapped against your bottom lip.

"Swallow."

You did and opened your mouth for him again.

"Good girl." It was all he said but it made your heart flutter.

Then he made his way down your body, kissing and licking over your sore nipples and you recoiled every time his teeth sunk into your flesh.

"Please, Joel," you moaned at some point because you craved him so much that you felt like melting with him but he gave you an evil smile and lightly slapped the side of your ass.

"No. S'not about what you want. I'll take from you what I want and the more you beg me to do something the less likely it is that I'll do it."

Before you could even think about an answer you suddenly heard a ripping sound and then the cold air hit your bare pussy.

"Joel!" you complained staring at your torn underwear but he ignored you as he only had eyes for what waited between your legs for him. He didn't hesitate for a second now but just forcefully opened your thighs and then immediately slid a finger through your glistening folds. Then he collected some of your arousal and mockingly observed it.

"What's that, mhm? Was just playing with your tits a little and you're fuckin' soaked."

He chuckled darkly and brought his finger to your mouth. "Open. Clean it."

You had done similar things a hundres times before so you quickly confiled with the order and twirled your tongue around his digit as if it was his cock. Joel hummed with closed eyes and when you were done he pushed you down while crawling down again.

Every remaining amount of strength wilted when you saw the way he looked at your pussy and you were glad you got to lay on the couch. He then opened you up wider and moved your legs to rest on his shoulders. You couldn't allow yourself to feel the anticipation just yet because he was too mean to do this solely for your pleasure. You feared that he would change his mind in the last second so you anxiously watched his every move and almost choked on your breath when you felt his thumb brushing over your clit.

"S'right. Let it out I wanna hear it all," he hummed contently while rubbing you in small circles.

You couldn't believe he was actually doing this after having talked you down like this but your mind was too clouded anyway to question his actions.

His hands lingered at your core a little longer until he moved them up to your hips while lowering his head down to your pussy. He inhaled deeply taking in your scent and then connected his tongue with your clit which made you whine out almost painfully.

If there was one thing you could never get enough of in your life, it was him eating your pussy. It was simply… perfect. His beard grazing over your skin, his soft and warm tongue on your clit and the way he lapped up your wetness as if he was a man starving.

"Fuck, Joel, fuck…," you moaned your toes curling at the insane feelings he evoked in you.

His tongue drew patterns over your clit and you were almost sure that they were letters but you were too caught up in pleasure to concentrate on it.

And you were definitely too exhausted to work out why he was giving you so much pleasure after you had begged him to be mean. Because you definitely didn't mind and didn't want to do anything that could make him stop.

Joel now brushed over the underside of your clit with his pointed tongue and you shuddered beneath him your hands gripping his muscular arms. And when he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of you you couldn't help but grind against him. The moment he noticed he stopped licking you and raised his head.

"No," he spoke his face expressionless and buried his hand into the flesh of your ass. "One more time and I'll stop."

Joel dived between your thighs again while his left hand splayed across your stomach to apply light pressure that added to the pleasure you received from his mouth and his finger inside of you. Your fingers were buried in the cushions now too scared to touch him and perhaps anger him further but when he sucked your clit into his mouth a cry left your mouth and you pressed your nails into your own thighs in order to handle the intensity of his touch.

"Please. Fuck, Joel, it's so fucking good," you whimpered and wished he would answer you the way he usually did.

It was like he wasn't even present, he just ate your pussy like his life depended on it while ignoring you utterly. You couldn't even swear that he enjoyed it.

"Joel," you whispered again hoping that he might answer you but he didn't even look at you.

He just scissored you open while toying with your swollen clit but when you felt yourself getting closer to coming his eyes finally found your face again. He inspected you for a moment and then suddenly stopped. Your legs immediately searched for his body trying to trap him between them while your mind panicked.

"N-No, no, Joel, what are you doing. I was just about to come!"

"I know babygirl," he whispered running a hand over your sweaty hair while watching you almost lovingly.

"Please, I wanna come, I – "

"I know you do, sugar. But I don't care."

He rolled your nipple between his fingers again while you still tried to fight the confusion in your head. "Please, I –"

Your voice broke and your trembling hands gripped the fabric of his shirt.

"Save your breath, darlin'," he whispered against your ear before sliding a hand down between your legs.

With a clear plan in mind Joel started to rub your aching clit again only that this time he seemed even more determined. He went clockwise just the way you liked it and used your wetness as lubrication. You sniffed twice unsure of whether this was a good or a bad thing but soon you were so overtaken by enjoyment again that all you could perceive was his body and the hand on your pussy.

Your hand held his shirt while your face was buried in his neck and he let it happen. His heart was beating fast and you enjoyed the closeness so much that for a second you forgot about your frustration. That was until he denied your orgasm the second time tonight and this time you pushed him away in order to escape his touch.

"You asshole," you cried and tried to kick him with your feet.

Quickly he advanced towards you captured your wrists in his hand and yanked your head back by your hair.

"You were the one begging me like a fuckin' whore to be rough with you. You don't like what I'm doing? Mhm?" he mocked you while moving you to lay on your back again. You shook your head biting down on your shaking lip.

"Well I don't care 'cause you asked me to be mean. If you don't like it don't ask me next time. But now don't you fuckin' dare complain again."

You were still busy flashing your eyes at him which was why you let out a loud gasp when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance and then he was suddenly inside of you. You hadn't noticed him unbuckling his belt and neither had you realized how he had pulled down his jeans and boxers.

You were dripping with arousal so you had no problems taking him and yet it had come so surprisingly that you tightly clenched around him which provoked a loud growl from him.

"Jesus…. So goddamn tight."

His left hand came down to cradle the side of your face while his right bent your leg back in order to reach deeper inside of you with each thrust. He hadn't given you a lot of time to adjust and just pounded your pussy mercilessly like there was no tomorrow.

"That's right," he mumbled his eyes on your face while you had problems keeping yours open.

"Atta girl. Nice 'n open for daddy…"

But when you buckled your hips in order to move accordingly to his thrusts his eyes darkened and he squeezed your throat as a punishment.

"I said none of that," he hissed emphasizing every word as if you were a little child that couldn't comprehend the simplest instructions.

"Stay fuckin' still or you're gonna get that l'il ass of you fucked. Would you like that? Huh?"

You shook your head and made a mental note to really do as he had told you now because you suddenly didn't feel like infuriating him any more.

Perhaps you had overestimated yourself a little or hadn't actually been ready to take all of him in this kind of state because all you suddenly craved was your loving Joel. The one who would press his face into your neck now to smell your hair. The one who would trace your collarbone with his finger or kiss your nipples. The one who would tell you how much he loved you and that he would never leave his babygirl.

"Joel," you moaned as if you were able to make him change his mind just by saying his name.

Of course he ignored you and unrestrainedly fucked your hole while panting loudly. Suddenly you were hyper-aware of so many things that you hadn't even noticed earlier. The way you were completely naked underneath him while he was still fully dressed except for his pulled-down jeans. It made you feel so vulnerable and pathetic suddenly that tears welled in your eyes.

And the way he pressed down on your tummy not only to make you stay in place but to show him how deep he reached inside of you. You felt used. Dirty. What you needed right now was to get some distance between him and you but there was no way Joel would let you off this easily.

"Joel," you cried looking up to him while tugging at his shirt but he had his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

In addition to your mental discomfort his cock thrusting in you had started to hurt as well which was due to the way you tightened around him. But while Joel thought the reason was that you were close, in truth your body rejected the intrusion and therefore he bruised your insides every time he hit your cervix while he felt like his cock was being torn off by your clenched walls.

"Mhmm, yes, sweet girl. Takin' me so fuckin' well. You're gonna make daddy come like this. Is that what you want?"

Once he had spoken these last words he suddenly pulled out which came so unexpectant that you widened your eyes and he then manhandled you on your stomach. Before you could understand what had happened Joel had adjusted you on your knees and pushed back inside of you taking you from behind.

You let out a cry that was muffled by the cushion your head rested against and as much as you hated to even just have this thought, you wished that he would finally stop. You couldn't uphold your facade any longer, your pussy burned, your head felt dizzy and you didn't want him to touch and treat you like this any longer.

Fuck your pride, you would ask him to stop even if it meant that he would never be rough with you again. Even if it meant that he would beat himself up afterwards thinking that he had hurt you. You would explain it to him. He hadn't done anything wrong, you just hadn't been strong enough to handle it tonight.

"J-Joel," you said a little louder your voice shaking so much that he raised his eyebrows.

"What," he hissed dangerously.

You whimpered every time his hips snapped forward pushing you deeper into the couch which made it difficult to speak but eventually you managed to press out what you wanted to say.

"P-Please, s-stop," you whined and at first you weren't certain if he had heard you. But then you felt a hand snatching your waist and he pulled up your weak body so your back was pressed to his chest. His big hand kneaded your breast while your nails scratched over his arm gesturing him that this was serious.

"I told you, babygirl. I said I wouldn't stop no matter how much you'll cry. And I won't. It hurts, doesn't it?"

A sob went past your lips and you could only nod.

"Mhmm too bad. It's supposed to hurt you, babygirl. 'Cause we ain't doin' this for you right now. We're doin' this for daddy 'n you're gonna give your body to daddy so he's gonna feel real good while you look pretty for him, mhm? How does that sound?"

He watched the side of your face while holding you tightly by wrapping his arms around your stomach and breasts, sensing how weak you were on your knees.

"I wanna hear your fuckin' voice," he breathed and spanked your left breast.

"Y-Yes," you cried, nothing but jelly in his arms and dropped your head to your chest.

"Good," he murmured through grinded teeth and kissed the back of your head. Before you were able to form another word of resistance in your head he had moved his hand to your throat to squeeze it lightly cutting off your air supply which turned out to be even worse for you physical state.

"Already fucked your brains out, huh?" he commented your mindless condition while gliding his hand between your legs to find your clit. You almost didn't notice it though, feeling numb and disconnected to your body, yet strangely being super aware of the way he hurt you with each thrust.

When you let out a croaked cry he perhaps realized that you really were in need of fresh air so he dropped you like he had suddenly changed his mind about you and you fell on your stomach again. At this point you were too powerless to even hold yourself up on your knees and luckily Joel allowed you to lay on your front.

Panic flooded your system again because you were sure you wouldn't be able to keep this up until he would come. You couldn't properly breathe and you really needed some water and a moment of peace to collect yourself. Your limbs were hurting, your tummy was aching and your mental discomfort only added to everything.

You loved Joel with all your heart and would never want anything about your relationship to change but right now he made you feel like you were being violated. Like you couldn't make him stop even if you wanted him to. Like you were his victim rather than his girlfriend.

There was only one thing left you could try. Your safe word.

You just had to bring the word out and make him hear you and then he would see the seriousness of the situation, hug you and comfort you.

You opened your mouth but no sound besides your whimpers left it and you squeezed your hands in fists forcing yourself to move your tongue.

"Rrr," you made and cursed yourself for not being able to form a word that was as easy to pronounce as 'red'. You clung to the couch as if it would clear your head and tried again.

"R-Red…," you said but weren't sure if it was actually comprehendable.

"J-Joel," you sobbed because why wouldn't he stop? You had said it, you had said the word you had hoped would never leave your mouth when Joel and you had thought of a safe word.

"R-Red," you whispered again as if it was a mantra but his pounding didn't stop. He fucked your pussy chasing his release with so much focus that he seemingly didn't hear your mumbling. You had to get the cushion out of the way in order to sound clearer but he pressed your face into the pillow and so your mobility was strongly limited.

You writhed under his grip so frustrated and devasteted now that you thought about giving up and just waiting until he had finished. And yet you repeated the safe word over and over again although you were not sure if you actually said it out loud every time or if it just happened in your head.

And then you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Joel actually hadn't noticed any of your discomfort.

Of course he had noticed how submissive and weak you were and as much as he wished he could soothe you a little, he had promised you to be rough with you and that was what he intended to do now.

So no caressing your bare shoulder or taking your hand and instead fucking you at a punishing pace.

After he had dropped you down on your stomach again his hands dug into your hips keeping your in place for him while he bit his bottom lip at the sight of you. Your tousled hair and your pretty back that was so beautifully bent were mesmerizing and he couldn't help himself and took a handful of your hair to push your face into the cushion.

He heard you mumble something every now and then but he was truthfully too concentrated and distracted by your perfect cunt that hugged him so perfectly that he didn't pay any attention to it. He used your pussy for his enjoyment, felt how your walls fluttered around him, watched your sexy figure splayed out for him until he was eventually sent over the edge and came with a loud growl.

"Oh Jesus Christ," he moaned feeling his cum leaving his tip and filling you to the brim.

"That's a good girl," he whispered out of breath and pushed inside of you a few more times until he was sure his cum would stay inside of you.

He sighed loudly, pulled out of you and then slowly felt his mind getting to work again. He knelt down on the couch next to you and lowered himself to your head. With a lot more gentleness in his touch now he stroked your hair to the side to kiss the side of your face.

"Honey," he whispered and when he saw your closed eyes he frowned. "Baby?"

When he didn't get a reaction his blood started to pump and he saw red. New drops of sweat started to form on his forehead and his hands began to tremble. He was too full of panic now to have a straight thought and quickly pulled up your lifeless body and turned you on your back.

"Y/n, honey, come back to me," he stammered and held your face in his hands. 'What had he done??' Joel cursed to himself and ran his thumb over the area under your eyes. He stared at you, watched you with a cold numbness inside until he heard a moan.

"Y/n?" he asked his voice barely more than a breath and saw your lips move. Infinite happiness and luck washed over him that made him tear up as you blinked with your eyes a few times. Joel enclosed your hand with his and covered it with kisses while observing you with relief.

"How are you, baby?" he whispered and your pupils finally found his face.

"W-What happened?" you asked too weak to sit up straight.

"I-I think you fainted, honey. I-I… I'm so fuckin' sorry, baby, I…. I'm sorry, I was so stupid 'n I didn't notice that you were feelin' unwell, fuck, baby, I…"

He pressed your hand to his forehead and shook his head over and over again while you tried to remember what had happened.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need anything?" Joel asked while watching you worriedly.

"Water," was all you managed to say with your weak voice and he immediately jumped to his feet to fetch you a glas of water. He assisted you and helped your shaky hands to bring the glas to your lip and then you emptied it with one sip. Then he put it on the couch table and caressed your cheek with his big thumb.

"Y/n," he rasped. "Please talk to me. I need to hear your voice."

You glanced at him still feeling shocked about the fact that you had actually fainted during sex but answered Joel.

"I can't remember everything. But I-I know that I was in pain."

His eyes had never looked sadder and a part of you instantly regretted telling him.

"I'm so sorry, babygirl. I can't believe that-that this happened."

His arms reached down to wrap around your shoulders and he pulled you into a careful hug almost as if he was scared he would break you. He gently pressed your head to his chest and you felt so wonderfully embraced by him that you closed your eyes getting fully lost in his strong arms and the warmth of his body. The hug filled you with fresh energy and when he helped you lay down again you felt strong enough to talk about more details of what had just happened.

"I think everything was too much. I know I said that I wanted you to be mean and I did, I really did earlier b-but… but I think it became too much and I felt so odd and-and used and I don't know, I… I didn't want it anymore and then my body reacted differently and it hurt."

He didn't answer you but you could see his eyes' reaction to every single one of your words. And you knew what was going on behind his forehead at the moment. He was beating himself up, punishing himself with his thoughts and telling himself that he was too bad of a human being to be with you. This time it was you who took his hand and you pulled it to your chest.

"I don't want you to be mad at yourself, Joel. Really. This isn't your fault and you have to believe me."

He swiftly freed his hand and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Don't you comfort me now, y/n. We're not gonna play this game."

Joel watched you for a moment like he was thinking and then searched the room.

"I'll bring you your clothes. You must be cold."

He didn't even wait for an answer and picked up your underwear, shirt and jeans and put every item on you with so much gentleness that tears gathered in the corner of your eyes again. When he was done he sat with his back against the backrest of the couch and pulled you in his lap his hand cradling the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I swear to god, I wish I could go back in time and just hit myself 'cause I was so fuckin' stupid not noticing how you were feeling 'n I'm really really sorry."

He spoke so quietly because these words were only meant for you and you unconsciously closed your eyes at the tenderness and intimacy of his voice.

"I know," you replied and held on to his broad shoulder, anything to feel more of him. "And I know you don't wanna hear it, but it's okay. I'm fine."

You felt him caressing your back and then he turned your a little so he could look at your face.

"Did you remember our safe word? You know that I'm always gonna stop when you say red."

He sounded so concerned that your heart already broke at what you had to tell him next but you wouldn't lie to him and so you watched him with eyes round as coins.

"I-I… I did. I said it but it was too quiet and you didn't hear."

His head dropped and you heard him inhale deeply.

"Fuck…," was all he whispered and you felt the urge to hold him firmly and tell him that you forgave him but it wasn't what he wanted right now and so you just enjoyed the closeness of his body while listening to his heavy panting. He needed a few minutes to collect himself but once he had he pressed yet another kiss to your brow.

"I'm sorry," he pressed clearly close to tears and you nodded. And you meant it. You weren't angry at him because it had been you who had asked him to treat you this way. And yes, he should've stopped once he had heard the safe word out of your mouth but he hadn't and so there was nothing you could blame him for. This whole mess had been painful and you definitely didn't want to go through something similar again but neither of you was responsible for it.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered hoping that it would perhaps calm him a little but he shook his head in disbelief.

"Don't say that, right now…"

"But I do. I love you so much and I'm not angry at you. You didn't hear me, how were you supposed to know that something was wrong?"

Joel shook his head again and chewed on his bottom lip.

"I should've paid attention to you more. And listen to you more closely, why do we have a safe word if I don't fucking listen to you?"

He threw his head back and bit his lower lip which looked so painful that you feared it would start to bleed soon.

"Joel. It happened and it's not ideal but I'm okay. Next time if something like this ever happens again you'll listen more carefully and then everything will be fine. We'll learn from it."

"I'll learn from it," he corrected and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay. But please don't beat yourself up now. As I said, I don't blame you and this was just a huge miscommunication."

He looked like he was thinking and put his thumb to his lower lip.

"Baby…," he breathed watching you with so much love in his eyes that you couldn't hide a little smile and Joel tightened his arms around you.

"I love you so much. It's just… You know I just hate to know that I hurt you. You deserve so much better, honey, I –" You quickly interrupted him by pressing your finger against his lips which made him stop  talking.

"Don't finish that sentence, Joel. How many times do you want me to say it? I want you. And I'm gonna want you for the rest of my life and this stupid thing doesn't change anything about this fact. Kiss me now."

He sighed and tilted his head but you needed him now and so you determindely grabbed the side of his face.

"Kiss me Joel. Please."

Of course he wouldn't make you beg for a kiss and so he leaned towards you and locked your lips. You smiled against his mouth your hands holding on to his shoulders and when he pulled back your cheeks were flushed.

"I love you."

He sighed and looked down.

"I love you, Joel," you repeated strictly and now a small chuckle left his mouth.

"I love you too, y/n. More than you can ever know."

You smiled brightly and rested with your back against his upper body.

"Then I guess everything will be fine."

[themultifanshipper]

Freaks

Warnings: smut, Oscar in lingerie, discussion of kinks, idk why this is so angsty but i'm due for my period soon so it might be that, slight dacryphilia

Part of a debuting series of experimental oneshots around Oscar and lingerie/feminization

Masterlist

It had been your idea at first. A passing comment about how fucking hot your boyfriend would look in lingerie after coming across a picture online.

The twink was in a pair of lacy underwear with a matching bra, and his milky white skin and peachy round arse had been the catalyst of your obsession with the idea of Oscar in lingerie.

It wasn't long before you had a collection, and you both quickly found out the sight of Oscar like that was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. It even turned him on to see his body look so... he wasn't even sure of the word. Delicate? Feminine? Pretty?

This one time, he was in an orange set, papaya of course.

Your boyfriend was built like a dorito, but the contrast of his muscles with the delicate fabrics, and the fact that his waist looked tiny with your hands wrapped around it drove you up the fucking wall.

You didn't know how to express it, it was like cuteness agression but... horny?

And the emotions kind of… bubbled over in a way that made you self-conscious about the intensity of your new(ish)found kink.

“I need to ask you a serious question” you exhaled softly, rubbing yourself over Oscar's cock through the two layers of lace. His, and yours. You had a matching set.

“Yeah?” his eyes were half lidded, teeth worrying the skin of his bottom lip at the feeling of your weight on top of him.

Your hands trailed up his sides towards his toned pecs that filled out the lacy bralette perfectly. He gasped when you ran a thumb over one of his nipples.

“Are you doing this just to make me happy, or do you genuinely enjoy wearing lingerie?”

He frowned at the question, halting the movement of your hips sternly.

“Where has this line of thought come from?”

He gazed up at you softly, waiting for an answer while you tried to squirm in his hold.

“I don't know…" you looked down at your hands that were toying with the edge of the fabric on his chest. “I guess I'm just scared that you're not as into it as me, and that there might be a part of you that doesn't enjoy it… or maybe finds it silly or… I don't know, it's stupid. Forget I asked”

He chuckled softly, “Baby, trust me, if I didn't enjoy wearing lingerie I wouldn't be doing it. Just because it was your idea doesn't mean you are coercing me in any way, got it?”

You nodded shyly, eyes darting up to meet his and he smiled at you.

“I love it, I find it really hot, that you find me hot like this. I take pleasure in being good for you” he pecked your lips sweetly to drive his point across.

“Good” you shuffled back along his thighs “because you have no idea how fucking insane you drive me with these on”

You grinned, trailing a finger along his cock and thumbing at the wet patch stuck to his tip, making him hiss.

Your mouth latched onto one of his nipples through the lace, licking at it to tease Oscar with the insufficient stimulation.

You kissed over the bare part of his chest, hands worshipping the body you were so in awe of.

“So pretty Osc-” your voice cracked.

There were those darned emotions again.

“Fuck- all for me. You're all mine aren't you? Only for me? Only I can see you like this, yeah?”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

His heart broke and he grabbed your face to pull you into a passionate kiss, desperately trying to convey the depth of what he wanted to say but didn't have the words for.

He gently flipped you over, hovering over you as he shuffled his panties down his thighs and pushed yours to the side.

You moaned into each other's eager mouths when he pushed himself inside you slowly.

You clung to him desperately, tears staining your cheeks as his powerful thrusts made your body rock back and forth.

“So fucking pretty when you cry, baby” he whispered hips picking up the pace.

“Oh my god, no I'm not. Fuck you!” you giggled wetly, trying to hide from him.

He gently prised your hands away, pinning them under one of his as he loomed over you.

“I am fucking you. And I'm gonna come inside you right now if you don't stop fucking crying”

Fucking hell… that shouldn't have made you clench around him with arousal.

He was such a freak. And you were a freak for him.

A fresh wave of tears appeared when you thought of how much you were made for each other. There was truly no one else like him.

Only he would be turned on by you fucking crying.

He rubbed the meat of his palm against your clit to help you along, and you came with a muffled sob.

He tumbled over the edge with you, and you rutted against each other desperately, and noisily as you whined and moaned into each other's mouths, riding out the intense pulses of your orgasms.

You fucking freaks.

[atinycelery]

Cameron as Lockwood was amazing and the show writing definitely had him analyzed really well what Lockwood would've been like if he was older, instead of 15 as he was and Lucy being 14 and George being also 15 at the beginning of the book series

Yes, 18 yo Lockwood would appear more tired even from the first episode or maybe that's just Cameron lol because he's been thru a lot for years, as he's aged up by 3 years, but I keep thinking of the 15yo Lockwood who's still got his twinkle, his hopes. For me, Cameron!Lockwood is anxious and visibly trying his best, book!Lockwood doesn't know the kind of out of depthness he's actually in if he's a normal kid in a normal universe.

Cameron!Lockwood is hanging by a thread, book!Lockwood (putting aside our famous hc that the books romanticize Lockwood because it's from Lucy's pov) is a kid who stepped into a sinkhole and he's sinking slowly into it but he doesn't know it

I'm a sucker for the early teens books characters because those things that they changed and/or wrote to become more dramatic and/or didn't land as well as they would've if they weren't on tv....is because they're early teens in the books

This hollowed out grieving boy will not have the mind for anything else other than what he thinks is essential at that age; his company, his house, his livelihood, his looks and his friends. He's had enough at 15

It took him longer to reach the romantic attachment conclusions not because he didn't realize his feelings; being a ghost hunter means you gotta emphatize and understand why ghosts are acting the way they did, even if he didn't go as far Lucy did. It's because he's 15

Those awkward gaps in the books where Lucy was doing more than she should and we were all like, pls react the way a normal guy who likes a girl would, and he didn't? That's because he's literally 15/16. He doesn't know how to react like that. He was mad at Lucy for going against his orders as her employer because he didn't know how else best to react. Yet. Best he can do is try to cheer you up awkwardly with "you know I'd die for you". And he was super sincere when he said that.

He's trying to stay a company afloat at 15 and possibly younger than that when he first met George. He doesn't have the mind capacity for anything else. His energy is spent so much on being on top of things as the leader, appearing charming as he best know, getting as much good cases as they can, keeping the company and himself fed and sheltered; see how he treated Lucy in THB-- it's because he thinks what he did was right; he thinks keeping Lucy alienated was a way to keep her safe, he employed Holly specifically because he wanted the company to work smoothly, better

The kid who basically went suicidal mode because he didn't know how to deal with Lucy leaving the co. had probably just turned 16/17ish. They've only reached the age they were in the show i think, in the latter part of the books series

Yes angsty and capable 17/18 y/o Lockwood is great but can you imagine being in a younger time in your life and doing what he was trying to do? That's angsty younger, and capable 15ish y/o kid

It's not a vast difference in age, but I would sooner send a 17 year old kid to buy groceries than a 15 yr old if I had the choice

The age factor messes me up everytime because Lockwood lost his family and he's managing a company at younger than 15. Lucy left home at 14. 14. She lost her colleagues/friends at younger than that. That awkward, no filter George is 15. That kid who's also trying his best to manage the food intakes in the house the way he knew how to before Holly arrived was in his early teens

You turn to look at Flo and she's just a little bit older than the trio. Flo is older than Lockwood in the books iirc but still probably younger than show Flo. And she was already traumatized and messed up. I actually think show Flo is more sane than book Flo (maybe show Flo had better coping mechanisms lol)

Things make more sense in the show with 17/18/18ish characters managing the company. Normal kids are about to leave school at that age. 17ish are not adults but they're old enough that it's believable and not alarming that they're living together, they're fighting together with no adults supervision,

but imagine being younger than that...and no adult supervision, and it's not merely that it's all shenanigans, it's that they're early teens kids trying their best the way they know how too. In other words, too young it makes me wanna cry. If i was a character in the books, I'd adopt them all

To reiterate the wildness of it all, imagine you're agreeing to sending your 15yo brother and his friends to a haunted mansion where the owner is a homicidal geezer who wanted ro silence them by pretending to ask them to solve the haunting of his mansion WHERE PEOPLE HAVE ACTUALLY LOST THEIR LIVES

That's book one.

Do you realize how skrunkly and the extent of out of depthness they all had in the books because of how much younger they were in them and i wanna hug them sm

[who-parties-on-a-tuesday]

Headcannon

Arthur is super emotionally unavailable. He's really bad at giving affection and showing love (romantically or platonically). Like, he doesn't even know what a hug is and has never said 'I love you' while sober.

This caused Jett to be starved for affection. Like if any of his micornations wanted a hug, he would drop anything and everything for it. He is constantly showering them in praise and love in any way he can.

If Wy painted him a picture, he wouldn't put it on the fridge. He have it framed on a wall and brag to everyone he saw that 'his girl did that for him'.

This has led him to be a bit suffocating at times. Not just with his micronations but with everyone.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol.3 Mukami Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Bromide & Short Story Paper

Originally, these were tokutens you'd get for buying Ruki's CD through the Stellaworth store. Nowadays you might find them sold at flea markets or second hand stores. The story is written from Ruki's POV, and takes place right after the ending of his CD, with him and Yui still on the rooftop.

Enjoy the angst (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)d

(Don't repost anywhere!)

[martianbugsbunny]

"What would you do if I was dying? Hold me and let me die in your arms or just let me lay there and bleed?"

[nursedexy]

The thing is I adore zimmbits, but i also really love reading about about them breaking up and Bitty bonding with Kent over their shared ex and love of pop music and them falling in love

[hum--hallelujah]

wait so I can add MORE angst? 👀

[adreamfromnevermore]

Love the slight AUs where Bruce as Batman has been a member of the league for ages, but he's somehow managed to keep his assortment of children under the radar.

Because it sets up the wildest misunderstandings within the league. He routinely talks about his babies, his children who are all so sweet and kind and occasionally assholes yes but only because they are young (and traumatized) hell I don't think the league would even be aware that they're adopted. So they're all thinking literal children

Barry: Bats really loves his kids.

Hal: I mean they're babies, wait till they hit the angsty teens and I'm sure we'll be hearing the opposite

Which means the day they finally meet Nightwing they don't know wtf to think. For one thing, how old would he have been when he had this kid???? Should they be worried about that???? And for the other, that is not a baby, that is not a precious little thing.

He could break someone in half. Like a twig.

He won't, but he could. And they can see that. (He's bat trained, they have seen what the bat can do they are not fools)

And they're like, okay. Okay maybe he isn't the baby (he is). He's got younger kids right? He's never said how many, they have 0 clues. They've been expecting 1 child, maybe 2 because he'd said kid in the plural exactly once when comforting an older woman while they were searching for her children in the aftermath of a rough battle.

And then a week later they run into Red Hood. In his leather, with his guns. And he drapes himself across Batmans back with all the self confidence in the world and starts whining about the "Brat" breaking into his safe house.

To steal his dog.

And yet again. He is not baby. He is bigger than Batman. He could probably break Batman in half given the bat didn't put up a fight. But Batman looks at him with probably the softest expression they've ever seen on that mans face and tells him very earnestly that the kid just wants to spend time with his older brother, next time they should try a walk. Maybe go to the zoo.

But probably not one of the babies. They're kind, and gentle, and at least one just loves reading and Bats has been trying to encourage that!!!

And then a day later he mentions his "babies" going for a walk in the park and they all instantaneously lose their minds at the confirmation.

[thatonegayship]

I had to

Wait, does the cheating thing on the bond always works? bcs that would be kinda freaky for R!Dipper like imagine you get pinned down by someone in the corner of a br or smthng and then said person kissed you and proceeded to explode into red mist and you literally have no idea what happened.

Also, would the constellation mark be a "cursed" Mark over the years, like you would give birth to a baby and the doctor says "😟 I am so sorry ma'am,,, I'm afraid your baby has the Cipher Companion mark. ( could also be something equally as science-y like Ursa Major, Constellation Calamation, etc idk)" And you just burst into tears.

Would that mean that dipper would get into a special program(demon wrangling program or smthng, demonologist? Maybe)? Or would the parents hide it away hoping that Bill would never take their child away?

(Sorry this au is just very interesting to me,,,, I hope u get more motivation, keep writing author 💪)

These are all options! The fun part of reincarnation AU being left ambiguous is that technically any of them could happen.

[lacydollette]

Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

[allertonhoe]

duking it out - rafe cameron (18+)

summary: when you almost get robbed after a night out, your best friend insists you learn some self-defence from her older brother, who happens to own a gym. you also can't stand each other, but what happens when the two of you are left to your own devices.

content warnings: original afab!reader, obx!universe, enemies to lovers, best friends brother, boxer!rafe, use of petnames (princess, baby), 18+ MDNI - smut, dom!rafe, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, unprotected p in v, minor use of restraint, mirror sex, reader hurts herself/blood tw, mentions of getting robbed/jumped (not by rafe lol), mentions of guns/pepper spray, angsty af

length: 4.2k words

"Will you at least promise me you'll consider it?"

"Sarah, no. I'm not-"

"You almost got mugged. It would give me some peace of mind." she disputes once again, looking at you wearily.

She wasn't exactly wrong. It was a few weeks back while you were walking through Figure 8 on your way home from another wild kegger on the beach. And in the early hours of the morning, the sun having barely risen, some masked Pogue took the opportunity to ambush you.

Luckily, you carried pepper spray on you for this specific reason, blasting it in the culprit's face and sprinting back to your place as fast as you could. But according to your best friend, you should be a bit more prepared if you ever ended up in worse circumstances, god forbid.

"Rafe!" she calls through the house, marching towards the kitchen without even checking to see if you were following. "Can you help me out with this?"

"What are you talking about?" he quizzes, scrunching his face in confusion.

"She doesn't think she needs to learn any self-defense." Sarah clarifies, earning a judgmental scoff from the older boy.

"That's fucking stupid." he corroborates, causing you to glare at him.

"Don't call me stupid." you pout, wishing your well-meaning best friend hadn't dragged her overbearing brother into another one of your predicaments.

Saying you and Rafe didn't get along was an understatement. You couldn't stand him. He was arrogant, and rude, and just completely unbearable. You didn't know how someone as kind and bubbly as Sarah was related to such a nightmare. And along with his dreadful personality, he had a bit of a bad reputation around the island.

Rumours swirled about how he'd been involved in shady business deals or that he was entangled with one of the island's most infamous and menacing gangs. Having gotten into his fair share of fights in high school, which led you back to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"What? Would you rather I lied?" he taunts, unscrewing the cap of whatever sports drink he was holding and taking a sip.

"Enough." Sarah referees. "Besides, you told me you'd help."

"That was before I knew who it was." he antagonizes, not even sparing you a glance.

"Yeah. As much as I'd love an excuse to punch Rafe, I'll have to pass." you acknowledge in a rare moment of compromise.

"Didn't know you liked it rough," he insinuates, rolling your eyes at the innuendo.

"Please." Sarah turns back to you in a pleading manner. "Just some basic stuff. I just want to make sure you don't find yourself in a vulnerable situation again. I hate to agree with him, but it is stupid to turn down learning from, like, one of the best trainers on the island."

Rafe decided after high school that he'd channel his fury and aggressive energy into something more productive, opening his gym up a few years back. And unfortunately, you knew she was probably right. The boxing studio having become one of the hottest spots to work out in Figure 8.

"Don't look so excited, princess. A lot of girls would be jumping at the chance to get free coaching from me." he quips.

"You're not gonna drop this?" you purse your lips at Sarah, her agitation not easing at all. "Fine. Whatever."

"No, if we're doing this, we're doing it my way. My gym." Rafe interjects. "You're gonna be there tomorrow morning at 8. You're gonna come, you're gonna listen to what I tell you, and you're not gonna act like a brat because I'm doing this as a favor for Sarah. Got it?"

With a hesitant nod, the session was set for the next day to your contempt. You were met by the sound of grunts and rustling chains when you entered the facility, finding Rafe at the far side of the room battering a punching bag. Too focused to realize you'd walked in, giving you the opportunity to get a proper look at him.

He wore a fitted white tank and basketball shorts, his sun-kissed skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. His toned arms on full display for you to admire as they tensed every time he hit the cushioned equipment. His signature grimace settled on his features as he beat the hung-up gear like it was personal.

"Fuck," he curses, alarmed once he detected your presence. "Sorry. Have you been here long?" He shrugs off, going for a swig of water.

"Just a minute," you reveal, stepping further into the building, almost feeling as though you weren't supposed to be there.

"Is, uh, that what you're wearing, or were you gonna change?" he surveys, taking in the tight leggings and crop top that clung to you. You shook your head at his question, neither of you knowing how to proceed cordially.

"You don't have to do this, by the way," you mention, giving him one last out.

"Huh?"

"I get you're doing this for Sarah. I can tell her you did if you'd just rather I go..." you offer.

"What? Already trying to run?" he solicits, the typical friction between you arising once again. "I don't mind," he reinforces, relieving some of your apprehension. 

He advised that you stretch a bit first, reluctantly following his lead as he got into what you were sure was his standard routine, somewhat hopeless yourself when it came to working out. An R&B track playing lightly over the speakers, filling the uncomfortable quiet that hung between you two.

You found yourself fixed on Rafe longer than usual, blaming it on the fact that you were trying to mimic his agile movements. There was no denying he was attractive, another trait you found particularly irritating, but seeing him in his element gave you a whole new perspective. He looked incredibly chiseled, a stark contrast to the usual sight of him in shirts that hid his arms, noticing how swole his biceps were with every flex of his.

Once you were finished warming up, he led you towards the practice ring that sat at the back of the gym. Tossing you a pair of boxing gloves and discarding his tank to the side prior to ushering you onto the canvas. Circling the perimeter like he was a shark targeting his prey.

"Are you gonna walk around and stare at me all day, or actually teach me something useful?" you sassed, making him to stop in his tracks with a hardened expression. "I don't have all day, Rafe."

"What happened again?"

"I was, uh, walking home from that party on the beach a few weeks back, and some kid jumped out at me on my way home and tried taking my shit." you recount, Rafe frowning at the story.

"Have you ever learned any self-defense?" he inquires.

"Yeah, I pepper sprayed him and ran the fuck home." you explain, making him snicker.

"And when you don't have that on you?"

"I don't know. My keys? A gun?"

"A gun?" he remarks, amused by your answer.

"Yeah. I could get one of those small ones."

"Sounds like a solid plan, princess."

"I swear, if you're just gonna piss me off-"

"I told you when we agreed to this you can't stand around and bitch at me the entire time." he recalls, not appearing too impressed.

"Then teach me something."

"Fine, let's work on your reaction time."

"My reaction time is fine. I did fight him off." you refute, tired of the constant belittling.

"And how big was this guy? Was he 6'5 and huge, or some shrimpy Pogue that wasn't much taller than you?" he challenges, startled at how accurate the latter description was of your attacker. "You might not get that lucky next time around."

You let him take over from there, watching as he continued walking around the platform menacingly, almost sizing you up in a way. Like you were playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Like there was a hint of something almost suggestive hanging in the air between you.

In any other scenario, you probably would've laughed at how he was stalking towards you. Abruptly diving out to snatch you from the side, making you whip around and instinctively throwing your hands in front of you. Not giving him a chance to grab you properly. Seeming satisfied with your efforts, he stepped back to the edge of the ring to launch into the  next drill.

It all happened so fast. He rushed towards you from behind, your initial impulse being to turn and lunge the other way, not realizing your shoelace had untied. You were in the air for a few seconds, tripping face-first into the mats. An ache immediately rising as you peeled yourself off the floor, almost missing how Rafe was at your side without delay, concern etched on his features.

"Shit."

He scanned you for injuries, quick to fuss over your condition while you were just trying to adjust to his sudden worry towards you. As you caught your breath, it hitched again when he reached out and held your cheek. Growing nervous when you saw his focus drift to your mouth.

"You're bleeding..." he notes, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. "Don't move."

He dashed over to snag the first-aid kit and hurried back over, chucking it on the ground beside you. Taking your wrists and unfastening the padded protection covering your fists, doing the same with the other. He searched through the small bag, ripping open an antiseptic wipe as he assessed the wound.

"Sit down." he requested, complying to his instruction since you didn't want to cause any more unnecessary chaos. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh, no..." you trail off.

"This might sting..." he tells you as he brought the damp cloth to the cut, instantly hissing at the tender sensation despite his warning. "Sorry," he murmurs remorsefully.

"Don't apologize. It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. You tripped." he reassures dismissively, letting the conversation die rather than feud over it.

The dynamic between you and Rafe was contentious, the two of you always bickering and getting under each other's skin. However, that wasn't the energy you were feeling right now. If anything, it felt a bit charged. Not missing the way his devious smirk reemerged on his lips as he cleaned the gash, the prolonged silence only making you more uneasy.

"What?"

"Only you would manage to get hurt when I'm trying to teach you how to protect yourself." he patronizes, snickering to himself.

You tore yourself out of his grasp, touching the bloody spot and deciding you'd just handle it yourself in the bathroom. Not in the mood to deal with whatever mind games he was playing at. His reflexes were still quicker than yours as he blocked you from getting up.

"Stop being difficult and just let me," he asserts. Not anticipating for him to take your chin to halt your tantrum, his face just a few inches from yours. "Please."

His glance flickered between your eyes and mouth, noting a shift in his expression—one you'd never seen before. Keeping your own on anything but him, no longer able to trust yourself to not do something you know you'll regret. Finding yourself softening under his wary gaze, against your better judgment.

"Why are you helping me?" you finally decide to ask him, the question coming out almost sheepishly.

"Seriously?" he replies, almost seeming offended. "Other than the fact that I was genuinely trying to do you a favour and show you how to defend yourself, and you ended up with a busted lip instead? Maybe I'm just not as much of an asshole as you'd like to believe."

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead." you feign, falling back into your usual banter.

"Would it really kill you to just be nice to me for a few minutes?" he comments sarcastically, not giving you much room to argue.

"Thanks, I guess." you concede, his signature grin reappearing.

"Sorry, I missed that." he exaggerates, turning his ear towards you to repeat yourself.

"You're such a pain in the ass." you grumble, crossing your arms. "Thank you."

He finished treating the wound, squeezing out some healing cream onto his finger and brushing it across the sensitive area. Your lips parting at the intimate gesture, your eyelids fluttering shut. Keeping them closed to avoid facing the bitter truth that you didn't totally hate being in this compromising position with Rafe.

"At least now you got some battle scars, so no more thugs will mess with you." he declares.

"You can't help yourself." you scold.

"What? I'm just fucking around." he averts, thrown off by your change in demeanor.

"That's the thing with you, Rafe. Do you take anything seriously?" you proclaim, jumping back to your feet and fiddling to shove the gloves back on.

"Yes?"

"You're stubborn and aggravating, and always fuckingaround. You definitely don't take me seriously-"

"What are you even talking about?"

"That's the whole reason I'm here, right? Another free pass so you can give me shit?" you blindly accuse, temper flaring.

"Fuck, do you ever shut up?" he seethes in frustration, caging you in against the ropes as he towered over your figure.

"Move," you demand, nudging the barrier he'd created around you.

"Calm down," he urges you, as if his domineering stance wasn't partially to blame for your distress.

"Rafe," you huff, trying to escape his scrutiny when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders and pinned you back.

"I said calm down." he reiterates.

His piercing glare acted like another physical restraint, simultaneously making you confront the conflicting desires you'd suppressed towards him for years. It was just the easier choice—not wanting to involve yourself with someone so unpredictable or cross the boundary that was your best friend's older brother.

"Why don't you think I take you seriously?" he investigates, surprised that was what he'd hung onto from your rant.

"Are you kidding me right now?" you counter. "You've never been nice to me since I became friends with Sarah."

"Only because you're a fucking know-it-all," he contends, recognizing the teasing in his voice. "Do you think I'd do this for any of the other clowns Sarah hangs around?"

You didn't know what to say to that, trying not to focus on certain details throughout the years. How he'd always been more impartial to you compared to the rest of the group you were usually with. Assuming the pleasantries he'd occasionally throw your way were just another attempt to get on your nerves.

"You make it so easy to rile you up, princess." he remarks, taking the large gloves that were acting like a barrier between you and slipping them off your hands. "And don't try to tell me you don't like it either."

"I... I don't." you falter.

He took your chin and turned you back towards him, but this time there was no reason for it—caressing your jaw and studying you like some priceless piece of art. It was unsettling, the speed at which he was able to switch from tough and threatening to gentle and vigilant. Knowing you'd never seen this side of him in all the years you'd known his sister.

"Try again." he mutters, not letting you get away so fast.

"I don't, Rafe." you insist, trying to keep your tone steady but still lacking conviction—just enough to give you away.

"Then why haven't you pushed me off yet?" he boasts.

"I-" you stutter, considering your next words carefully. "You still haven't taught me shit." you maintain, knowing your response was weak as it came out.

"What's got you so quiet, hm?" he interrogates, basking in your discomfort.

"You're insufferable, do you know that?"

"Maybe. But you still haven't moved."

That's when his lips grazed yours delicately, almost questioning if it was a hallucination. Only knowing it wasn't because of the dull ache from his direct contact on your fresh injury. His icy blue eyes meeting yours in challenge, as if he was daring you to take the inevitable next step. As if he was waiting for your permission.

It felt like you were hit by a tidal wave when you finally kissed him, the faint taste of blood reaching your senses but you were so absorbed by him to even care. Rafe using his tongue to soothe the ripped flesh as he slipped it into your mouth. All of your resistance towards him being disarmed as he kissed you like he'd been wanting to forever.

One of his hands snaked to the bottom of your scalp, threading through your hair; the other sliding to your lower back and pulling you against him. Cradling you to his large physique like he didn't want to let you stray too far, not that you wanted to. While his actions were just as meticulous as his teaching style had been earlier, his execution was still raw and impassioned.

"Are you gonna keep being difficult? Or are you gonna listen to me like a good girl?" he grills hoarsely.

"Are you gonna make it worth my while?" you retort smartly, not wanting to fully surrender control.

He just chuckled as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, the sound making your stomach twist, something you weren't used to feeling in his presence. Extending your nape as he placed a sloppy peck on your skin, lingering to make sure he'd left a mark. The disdain you'd always held towards him now somehow coming off as charming.

"Relax," he cooed, squeezing your waist before yanking your top off.

He discarded the shirt elsewhere, kissing down your torso and along the waistband of your spandex. Hooking his thumbs into the stretchy fabric, peering up at you as he licked his lips, your heart racing in anticipation. Leaving you exposed and disheveled in the middle of the gym, resting on the ropes to find some sort of stability.

"Shit... Can't believe I've kept my hands to myself this long around you," he mused, skimming through your wetness.

"Please Rafe." you whisper, as if the hushed volume of your voice somehow made it all seem less legitimate.

"Can't hear you, princess." he goads, not tearing his gaze from you. You didn't want to give in to his endless provoking, but it was as if he was coaxing it right out of you.

"Rafe, please." you echo, anguish evident from your tone.

"That's it, baby..." he praises, letting two of his digits slip inside you without any warning. "You always this wet around me?"

You instantly melted into his touch, like you were a puppet and he knew the exact strings he needed to pull. Rafe taking advantage of your disoriented state and kissing you again fiercely, the hostility that had built over the years boiling over and getting channeled into your embrace. Grabbing your thigh and hooking it around his waist to give himself better access to you, bringing you into a deeper lust.

He added another finger, immediately giving away that your climax was close as you clenched around him. And then right when your pleasure was about to hit, he withdrew them. A choked whine leaving your throat as he brought them up to his mouth, not daring to tear his attention from you.

"What the fuck?" you protest breathlessly.

Without a word, he took your extended leg, scooping you up with ease and wrapping you around his frame. Bringing you to the middle of the ring and laying you on the ground, looming over you again as he stripped off his pants. Straddling your bottom half, leaving you dumbfounded by how big he was as he pumped himself a few times.

"Told you if you came here, we do this my way. Arms up," he instructs.

As you stretched them over your head, Rafe took both your wrists and held you down. Your heart racing when you realized what he was doing, squirming as you felt him drag himself between your puffy folds. Rocking against him to create any extra friction as he continued to tease you as much as he could, surely revenge for your coldness towards him over the years.

"What's wrong, baby?" he mocks. "Tell me what you want."

"Need you..." you divulge, being met with Rafe's condescending laugh at your pathetic plea.

"You've made that pretty obvious, but that's not gonna be enough right now." he specifies, knowing what he ultimately wanted to hear and too far gone to keep denying yourself of him.

"Please, Rafe. Need you to fuck me." you confess, shuddering when you felt his fat tip circle your core.

"You had a change of heart or something? Not used to you being so nice to me," he revels smugly. "But since you asked so nicely."

You gasped as he slowly buried himself into you, fluttering around him as soon as he sunk into you. Keeping his motions steady and unhurried on purpose, clearly holding back from outwardly demolishing you right away.

You were already close to your high from his initial build-up, falling back into your bliss as he picked up a consistent flow, trembling as he started playing with your swollen clit. The hand he'd bounded you with loosening the more he lost himself in the essence of you.

"Is that why you've always been such a brat? Wanted me to do something about it? Shut you up myself?" he spits.

You clutched his face as his lips found yours again, unable to conceal how enamored you'd become by him. Losing your composure as his hips snapped into you, gawking at how his cock disappeared with every plunge into you. His athletic figure overtaking you without difficulty, looking like he was some Adonis.

"Rafe, I-" you plead, too consumed to even tell him you were reaching your peak, not that he didn't pick up on it.

"Let it out," he grunts, his rhythm unrelentless.

Shockwaves surged through your system as you let out a loud cry, drenching him with your arousal. Rafe pecking across your collarbones and up your neck until he was back at your lips, swallowing every noise you made. The action much more tender than he'd been up until then.

"Turn over," he barks, barely straying from the kiss.

"W-what?" you stammer, still recovering from the first orgasm.

"You heard me. I'm not done with you yet." he reprimands, straightening his posture. "On your knees."

He nodded forward to emphasize his command, eagerly awaiting what he'd do next. Moaning when he pawed at your backside and yanked you closer, not refraining as his palm glided across the flesh. Only noticing that you were facing the row of mirrors that covered one of the walls as you peered up.

He started hammering into you from behind, his technique now rougher from his new angle. You soaked in his reflection, observing how his torso flexed with every thrust, only becoming more turned on by the lewd scene unfolding in the mirror. Drunk off the sensation of Rafe, already knowing this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

"I think I prefer you this way, princess." he purrs into your ear, smacking your ass one more time. "Too fucked out to open that big mouth of yours."

His movements got hastier, but he still managed to pound at angles he hadn't from your previous position. Gripping your waist roughly as he slammed into you, effortlessly hitting your g-spot with every grind of his hips. In disbelief that the man that was fucking you into oblivion was the same guy that you'd written off for so long.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he gloats, lowering his face to hover beside yours.

"Please, Rafe..." you beg, holding his piercing gaze in the mirror, his warmth radiating onto you.

"Who knew you were so damn polite?" he snides, striking your rear one last time. "Gonna let me ruin that pretty pussy?" he growls, mewling desperately at his filthy declaration.

With a few more pumps, he filled you with his own release, not stopping until he was fully satisfied. Coming undone again yourself as he pushed you back over your edge, the only sound filling the silent gym being heavy panting. Your head dropping in front of you as you caught your breath, whimpering when you felt him pull out.

Reality hit you like a ton of bricks as you finally registered what had just happened. Still clouded in your daze as he left featherlight pecks up your spine, doing your best to ignore the sweet gesture. Unsure how to even go forward, regret swiftly replacing your once insatiable hunger, blaming the moment on pure weakness.

"Hey," you hear Rafe utter, meeting his eyes through the reflection. "I can already see those cogs turning, baby..."

"I just..." you hesitate, trying to find the right thing to say when you'd barely processed what was going on.

"You just what, hm?" he drawls, turning your head towards him as he captured your lips with his.

"You're fucking trouble, Cameron." you mumble, giggling softly at the sudden turn of circumstances.

"What? You didn't enjoy your workout?" He implies shamelessly. "Don't act like you weren't into it. And don't think I'm letting you get away so easily either." He playfully accosts you, toppling onto his back and making you squeal as he pulled you back on top of him, passionately kissing you again.

note: suuper long, suuuper dirty 🤭 i wish i was exaggerating when i say ive been editing this for like a month omfg sos my brain is actually rotted lmao. hope you guys like it!! i'm trying to actually write more since i've been making a lot of short-form content sooo please be kind bc i'm still trying to find my bearings again lolol🙈

[rosyhoneydew]

A quick love letter to my Bucktommy family in the form of a fix-it <3

Bucktommy | fix-it | Teen | 1141 words | warnings: this is angsty at the start and tiptoes toward addressing biphobia so please care for yourself and don't read if that will exacerbate your hurt.

They're three beers deep when the doorbell rings again.

It's been a fucking night. He hadn't really had much to say to Eddie when he got there, thankfully he hadn't had to, especially considering Eddie was clearly in the midst of his own kind of night. It feels better, not being alone, at least. But the alcohol mixes with his head and twists the moment in his apartment further. How come every time I want to move forward I get pushed back?

He's not even paying attention when Eddie goes up to get the door, just fiddles with the bottle in his hand more, peeling the label into tiny pieces and laying them on Eddie's coffee table for him to pick up later.

"Shit-" Eddie stumbles as he makes his way. And then Buck can feel a little breeze as he goes to tell whoever it is that this isn't a good time.

"Oh thank god-" Buck freezes, determined not to turn around. "I wasn't sure you'd be home but I think I fucked up."

That's Tommy.

"I panicked a little. Evan asked me to move in and I think I freaked out."

"Uhh-" Eddie adds.

"We just got done talking about my ex who I had to end an engagement with and it just- it felt like he was trying to make up for his own freak out about it and-" Buck hears him take a deep breath, "I didn't want to force him into doing something he didn't really want to do, you know? He- he should get to make sure that's what he really wants." He takes another breath. "Are you not wearing pants?"

"Umm-"

Buck's heart rate had steadily ramped up hearing Tommy speak, but it's when he stops that Buck feels tears prickle at his eyes. He whips around then, still nestled into Eddie's couch, betrayal in his voice when he speaks.

"I did!" and shit. He didn't really mean to shout that.

"I'm gonna..." Eddie trails off as he heads into his bedroom.

"Why do you think I didn't make sure that's what I wanted?" he demands. He hadn't thought he'd be so angry, but this felt like something to him, and Tommy's running. Again. "Because that girl hit on me at the restaurant?"

Tommy looks shell-shocked. Like he's still grasping the fact that Buck is here, so Buck just keeps talking.

"Or because I haven't dated a man before? So I must not know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Buck-"

"Don't call me that."

"Evan," Tommy steps a little closer, and Buck leans toward the cushions, petty, but feeling raw still. "That is not why."

Buck levels him with a look.

"Okay, what you said is fair enough," he relents. "I didn't mean to make it seem like you couldn't make your own decisions about this."

"What did you mean?"

Tommy looks away for a moment, a flicker of pain on his face.

"I meant... what I said," he lands on. "You would break my heart, Evan."

"You don't know that." The tears finally crest over his lower lids and make their way to his mouth. "You can't just give up every time you're scared that I'm going to leave you, Tommy. It's not fair, you're not even giving me the chance to stay."

Tommy's lip wobbles a little now too, but he stays and listens.

"I wanted to stay, I wanted you to stay. With me. Permanently. Why would you think I would leave you?"

He cries now, and Buck hasn't ever seen him cry.

"I don't know," he gets out, choked and soft. "I see you, sometimes. With the 118 and everyone's families and I... I don't feel like I fit, Evan. I don't get how I fit into that."

"You fit into it because you're my boyfriend. My partner."

"I am?" he asks, treading closer ever slightly to the couch.

This time Buck leans his way. He sets his bottle down and looks down at his hands.

"Did you mean what you told Eddie? You fucked up? Because I fucked up, once, at the beginning of us, and you gave me that second chance and I'm so glad you did, Tommy, because these last few months have been better than I could've hoped. I don't want to let that go because of this so... yeah you can be, if you want."

Tommy rushes to the couch, he sits as close as he can get and grabs Buck's hands firmly. Warm and sure.

"I want that. I want us again. Please."

"You can have it," Buck whispers, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder. He squeezes Tommy's hands. "Just don't leave again, please."

"I won't, I won't."

Then there's a kiss at the crown of his head, and Tommy's other hand rubs soft circles over his back. He murmurs sweet nothings in Buck's ear all the while.

I'm sorry. I'm glad you were here. I missed you as soon as I walked out the door. I'm staying. I'm staying. I'm staying.

They sit like that for a while until a throat clearing from the hallway has them both lifting their heads to find Eddie, fully-clothed.

"What were you guys doing before I got here, by the way?" Tommy asks, humor back in his voice.

"Well, I was drinking my sorrows away. I don't know what Tom Cruise was doing."

"Ha ha," Eddie says, making his way to the couch, no qualms about forcing them to scooch over to make room. "We can talk about my shit tomorrow. You guys worked it out I guess?"

Buck looks up at Tommy, smiles, and kisses him with a loud peck just to make Eddie huff and roll his eyes.

"Yeah," Tommy says, looking at ease. "Although..." he starts.

Buck turns to him, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know that moving into your place is going to work," Tommy admits.

Buck sits up a little, mouth just opening to speak when Tommy cuts him off.

"I want to live with you, Evan, but your place is barely big enough for one person, so maybe we can workshop location, yeah?" he smiles a crinkly smile, the kind that always lets Buck know he's feeling fond, feeling secure.

It's Buck's turn to huff now. "It gets good light," he grumbles.

Tommy kisses his temple again, Buck gets the distinct feeling that he will be getting kissed quite a bit in the near future, and he chances a quick look at Eddie to see if they're being annoying.

Instead, he sees Eddie smiling too, he's looking on like he's proud and it makes Buck want to tear up again. Eddie gives him a nod and Buck nods back.

A weight lifts off his shoulders then. In the arms of the man he's growing to love and accepted by his family.

~~~~

I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who read, commented, shared my fics, sent me nice messages about my writing for these two, and to everyone who created content for them while they were canon. I'm thankful for every minute of it :)

[7seas-of-ryy]

5 Years of Agony

Author’s Note: This was another unfinished draft but I loved this idea so much so I had to finish it!! This one is more fluffy than angsty even though the title makes it seem otherwise :)

Summary: You are close to everyone except Azriel and he needs to know why!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: none :)

Azriel had never been quite so unsure of himself. He had his fair share of self doubting and insecurities but for some reason, this time was just... different.

Rhys had brought you to the Night Court, saved you from an awful situation and given you a place within his own family, the inner circle. Everyone loved you, how could they not? You were caring, kind, intelligent, and the most beautiful being Az had ever seen.

You had your own separate hobbies/hang outs with everyone. Everyone except Az. You went shopping with Mor, drew with Feyre while she painted, sparred with Cass, accompanied Rhys when he went to other Courts, and even researched with Amren. But you never spent time with the Spymaster of the Night Court.

It was starting to bother Azriel, seeing as he had been trying to approach you for the 5 years you had been living there. For some reason, it felt like you were avoiding him.

The first few weeks you were at the Night Court, the shadowsinger actually thought you didn't speak ever. That is until he was talking to Cass and Rhys and they brought you up. They began to tell him how funny you were and how much they enjoyed the insightful conversations you held. It hit Az then, you just didn't talk to him.

5 years in and you've only shared a handful of words. You were kind, telling him hello and goodbye but if you two were in a shared space, you normally were together in silence. He can't even think of a time you had a conversation for more than a couple minutes.

He could only think that he was the problem...right? You got along with everyone else, maybe his shadows intimidated you. Or you just didn't like him.

You were sat in the kitchen eating your lunch when you noticed a few shadows floating in. Azriel soon followed them in and started fixing himself something to eat. He took a seat across from you and began eating. The two of you ate in silence for a bit, you looked up and he was already looking at you. He gave you a smile, trying to show there was nothing to be intimidated by. You returned it with a tiny smile of you own and looked back down at your plate.

You could feel your cheeks heating up and started to get embarrassed. Before he could notice, you quickly got up and left. A frown took over Azriel's features as he looked to the chair you were once sat in.

A few weeks later you were in the Night Court's library reading. The small area you were in was nearly pitch black, the tiny light on the desk the only light for you to read your book. You didn't want to disrupt anyone so you always chose to read there.

It wasn't the best, but at least you weren't an inconvenience. As you strained your eyes to read the last line on the page, you felt a cool shadow brush across your neck. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of who accompanied that lone tendril.

"How on Earth are you even able to read over here? There's no light!" Azriel spoke behind you.

You jumped slightly turning to look at the large male standing behind you. You placed your hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating quickly from the surprise.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," His features softened, "I happened to notice you reading over here and wanted to offer you my reading spot. It's much better than this one... no offense."

"Um... I'm okay, I don't want to be a burden-" You began to turn his offer down but he cut you off.

"It truly is no problem at all. It's out of the way, no one goes there so you won't be bothered by anyone." He tried to persuade you.

After a few moments of thinking it over, you gave him a small nod and a slight grin. He held out his hand for you to take and you hesitantly took it, winnowing to the place he wanted to share with you.

It was a gorgeous area of the library that you had never seen before. There was a small desk in front of a large wall of books. And to the right of the desk was an open balcony with the most amazing view of the mountains. The night sky was all the light you would need to read. There were long sheer curtains hanging from the ceiling and a slight cool breeze flowed through the area making it even more perfect than you thought was possible.

"Wow" was all you could whisper as you drew closer to the railing of the balcony.

Az followed close behind you, keeping his eyes on you and memorizing the look on your face.

"I come here to read or clear my head a lot. No one comes by here so please feel free to use it whenever you'd like." He softly told you.

"Thank you-" You turned around to speak to him but quickly realized how close you two were. You raised your head to look up at him, your nerves felt like they were on fire.

"Why don't you enjoy my company?" He whispered, you could feel his breath on your face.

"What are you talking about? I do." You responded just as quiet and turned back around, looking out at the mountains.

Azriel moved next to you, so close your shoulders were touching. He was silent while he enjoyed the view like you.

"You avoid me every time you see me, and you never talk to me. But you only do that to me." He spoke while staring straight ahead.

"...I..." The words got caught in your throat.

"Have I done something to offend you? Are you scared of me? Am I that awful to be with?" He quickly asked.

Your heart broke for him. How could he think any of those things would be true?

"The truth is embarrassing." You muttered, still staring at the mountains as well.

"Please, I will get on my knees and beg, just please tell me what I did wrong. This has been the hardest 5 years of my life." The feared spymaster pleaded with you.

"It's so stupid" you muttered, "...when I first met you, I thought you were the most beautiful male I had ever seen. I was so intimidated, I literally choked on my words."

You could see his head snap to look at you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn't look at him. You were so embarrassed, your face must have been blood red by this time.

"I was terrified I was going to embarrass myself by saying something stupid so I stayed quiet. Only, that never went away and I thought too much time had passed for me to change how I was."

There was a long moment of silence, then Azriel started to laugh...hard. He was full out belly laughing, you had never heard him do that before.

You couldn't help but crack a smile at the sound.

"So you're telling me, I've been killing myself over this for 5 years. Thinking I did something to hurt you, only for the real reason to be you think I'm attractive??" He said through laughs.

"I am truly relieved, oh darling.." He drifted off as he saw the mortified look on your face.

"When I first met you, I thought you were the most stunning being I had ever seen. Then the first time I heard you talk, I thought I needed to hear that voice every single day. The first time I saw you spar Cass, I thought you were the most breathtaking warrior I had ever seen. I hope you understand what I mean by all of this." He spoke, getting softer as he went on.

Looking over to the male next to you, you urged him to go on.

"If Cass stopped talking to me for five years, I would consider myself blessed. If Rhys stopped talking to me for five years, I would be a little concerned but appreciate the quiet. You, a female I have never met before, avoid me for five years and it felt as if my heart was being pulled out through my chest." He confessed as his shadows swirled like crazy.

"Well, if I knew you were in agony I would have swallowed my pride and talked to you." You told him with a slight smirk.

He rewarded you with a stunning smile.

"I suppose I should've confessed my love for you a while ago then, hm?" He stated smoothly, stepping closer to you.

"That was you professing your love?" You teased him.

"I can do it again if you'd like." He told you as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear.

You gazed into his eyes, saying nothing.

"I would very much like to kiss you right now but I think a gentleman would take you on a date to get to know you more first." He whispered, so close it felt as if your breath was one with his.

"Well I mean, you have known me for five years." Your voice unwavering.

Azriel's pupils were blown wide at your words and he wasted no time wrapping his fingers in your hair and pulling you in.

"You're such a tease." He whispered before his lips touched yours.

It was soft at first, then it turned hungry as Az realized what he had been missing all this time. His kisses turned sloppy, trailing down your neck before he pulled away.

"If I don't stop now, I don't think I ever will." He spoke, his lips brushing over the skin of your neck.

"Then don't." You moaned out.

Azriel groaned into your neck, already craving more of you.

"You're gonna be the death of me." He muttered as his lips started moving against your skin once again.

[erwinsvow]

what if… rafe ever hit shy reader from built up anger like more of an accident? we lowk need some rafe and shy reader angst😢

this kind of slayed me.. i feel like disclosure i do not condone abuse of any sort i just think shy reader would like getting slapped around and being really roughhoused..

but if rafe reallyyy got mad about it, it might be angsty. like if she really messed up and was apologizing a ton if he actually was mad at her her heart would stop. warning rafe is rlly mean in this

being a little whiney, a little too needy and maybe excessively touchy came easily to you as rafe's girlfriend. he was always coaxing you into being more comfortable with him, and you think you'd finally reached that point.

some of your shyer tendencies seemed to have finally abandoned you when it was just the two of you. and just like you had guessed, a smaller, more possessive side of you had recently emerged from the cocoon—wanting all of rafe's attention, all the time.

it wasn't good, maybe a small part of you knew that, but it was easy to play into it, and you liked how you felt these days, more comfortable in your skin and around rafe than you had been even just a month ago.

like today. you had been a little needy all day, not wanting rafe to leave when he said he needed to go to barry's for picking something up.

"ple-ease rafe," you said it a little singsongy, serious but not that serious. "don't go. i want you to stay." it was more just wanting to hang out with him than anything else—when he left, he was usually gone for ages, and things weren't that fun without him.

"i'll be back, kid. jus' stay here, got it?"

"but you said you would-"

"kid." the way he says it, you should have realized he wasn't in the mood for you to be behaving like this.

"yesterday you said you were free all day. and i get bored-"

"yesterday i didn't know i was doin' this shit. just, please. sit tight. i'll be back."

rafe goes, and though a part of you knows you shouldn't, you blow up his phone throughout the day. really, you're not even that bored—showering and getting ready for the day and then curling up with your book after you make rafe's bed, but you played a little too far into it.

when he comes back, you should have realized something was off—but you let everything else cloud your judgement. the way rafe is never mean to you (despite the stories you had heard), how he always reassures you that he's not mad and that you didn't do anything wrong. you were led to a false belief that nothing you could do would change how rafe acts towards you.

rafe comes to sit on the bed near your feet, and you lower your book to look at him, but don't say anything. when he turns to look at you, you bring the book back up so it looks like you weren't peeking.

"c'mon. y'mad now?"

"no."

"kid, i don't have time for this-"

"you didn't answer any of my texts! or calls. and i've just been waiting here all day-" you don't know what you want—attention, quality time, an apology. you just want something other than what you're getting.

"i told you i'd be back. had shit to take care of-"

"well, i just-"

"why're you actin' like this? huh?"

you think rafe's gonna ask you the things he always does—what's wrong? did someone say something? do i need go have a talk with 'em?

but he doesn't this time.

"spoiled your ass too much and now you wanna talk back? is that it?" you're so taken aback, you think all the air has left your lungs. did rafe really think that? he stands up, so you do too, facing rafe while he paces.

"no, i just-" you're being defensive, like always. you feel like crying—you thought rafe knew you better than that, but it's also not his fault. maybe you were acting too spoiled after all, and maybe despite what he always says, he preferred you how you were when you first started dating him.

"you think m'goin out there to paint nails and gossip with barry? we had shit to do. real shit, so i can take care of you. i thought you understood that."

when you start crying, you think rafe will stop—he always does, stopping to apologize and make sure you're okay.

"tears. great. i'm tryna explain this to you. are you gonna cry everytime i get serious? huh?" it comes out a little more like a bark than a sentence—now you're scared.

"i-i'm sorry," you get out, though it's strangled in a sob and sounds more like a whisper. you don't think he heard you, but your feelings are so hurt—the rush from thinking rafe would be happy to be back home with you crashing and burning quickly, the pit in your stomach that doesn't blame him—but rather blames yourself for your behavior.

you had gotten too comfortable, too pampered, thinking that acting like this was okay—briefly you think it's not rafe's fault at all for getting mad, that it's your own fault for this happening.

you think it's best if you leave, dejectedly heading towards the door, but the second he catches you trying to walk away, he rushes over, pushing you against the door before you can even open it. your back thuds against the frame.

"rafe, you're hurting me-" you cry out, but he seems to be lost in his own anger. "please-"

"didn't say you can leave. what the hell are you doin'? you tryin' to make me mad? huh?"

"rafe, m'sorry, i-"

"actin' like this 'cause you wanna get slapped around? is that it? y'like that too much, don't you? you want me to slap you around now?"

your heart feels like it's just stopped beating. the very idea that rafe would bring up something you had just gotten comfortable with liking, only recently convinced yourself—with his help—that it wasn't wrong or dirty to like those kinds of things with him—slapping and spanking and a whole host of other things you had never even talked about, much less actually done, with anyone other than rafe, in this situation, made fat tears slip down your cheeks.

your boyfriend didn't seem like himself right now. and you were so distraught, if you were a little more clear-headed you might realize his bloodshot, dilated eyes and shaky hands. your arm hurts from where he's holding you tightly.

"rafe, please-" you get out through tears, and he lets you go a little. you slide out of his grip and stay against the door, still crying. before you can even think about it, your cheek is stinging.

he does slap you—not in the light, playful way he does when it's just the two of you somewhere or in the slightly rougher manner reserved for bed—this one is harder, everything hurting.

after it happens, you look up at rafe through glassy eyes. your fingers go to your cheek, pressing down where it was painful, like it would help it go away. but you knew deep down nothing could ever erase this memory.

you look up at rafe and he looks down at you. when you try to turn to open the door, he presses down and slams it shut before you can get out.