#i keep pouring things out on yall sorry about that

[bluelikebruises]

wanna be yours || rhaenyra & daemon targaryen x f!reader

Rhaenyra Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader/Daemon Targaryen 18+ MDNI! summary: scared of thunderstorms you seek shelter in the confines of your sister's chambers. but things quickly escalate and you find yourself forgetting all about the storm w/c: 8.2k tw: SMUT, 18+, plot? what plot?, INCEST, threesome, slight breeding kink, loss of virginity, cunnilingus, nipple play, some choking, creampie, rough & gentle daemon, slight ooc daemon, lost the plot about half way through tbh, not proof read

a/n: havent written in a while my bad yall the claws of depression got me and then i got a job (booooo). promised a rhaenicent oneshot but yall got this instead im so sorry ((your honor i’m working on it i swear!)) second time ever writing smut so please be kind, any comments or suggestion for improvement feel free to let me know <3

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A storm rages outside the walls of Dragonstone, the ocean and sky bashing against the windows of your chambers. They howl and thrash relentlessly, the rolling sound of thunder striking your heart with fear. As a child it reminded you of dragon roars soothing your unease but now it gave no such comfort.

Most nights when you had resided in the Keep the maesters would inform you of an approaching storm and you would sneak into your fathers chambers and read. You’d read passages of your favorite books and poems aloud to him. Whether he was asleep or awake never bothered you, you simply appreciated his presence. 

Another cry of crackling thunder falls upon your ears causing your heart to hammers in your chest. You silently wish you were not alone feeling as though you were a child, small, powerless, and frightened of the world. If you were in King’s Landing you could simply walk to your fathers chambers and let the storm rage on. But as your luck would have it you were miles away. 

For the past few months you had been residing in Dragonstone as a ward to your sister and her husband. You had loved every minute of your stay up until tonight, in hopes of alleviating your fears you shut your eyes trying to forget about the storm outside. 

Your thoughts are scrambled for a moment before you begin to recall your stay in Dragonstone. You’ve made an array of memories from tutoring Jacaerys in High Valyrian to games played with Joffrey and Viserys to your name day celebration. While you try to recall the many more you had, your thoughts are interrupted by the piercing sound of striking lightning. 

It hurts your ears sending a shiver down your spine, Rhaenyra crosses your mind but you know she is lying with her husband—who would waste no time in making a jest out of your fear. You want to banish the possibility of seeking shelter in Rhaenyra, after all you were far too old to sneak into her chambers. But as another flash of lightning bellows through the sky you could no longer stay still. Fear and anxiety guide your movements as you stand and grab the cloak at the end of your bed.

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The castle isn’t as frightening as the Red Keep under the cover of night, yet you still move quickly through its large cold corridors. With shaking hands you make a valiant effort to knock gently on the giant doors of your sister's chambers, pausing to hear for any movement but none comes. 

With no response you knock again this time with a bit of urgency. You don’t have the luxury of waiting for a response as thunder echoes through the stone causing you to yelp. Without thought you push the door open uninvitedly stepping inside. You do your best to shut the door quietly unsure what to do next. The thunder had passed and yet the patting rain could still be heard. You had not thought this far ahead, what were you supposed to do? Sneak into her bed? 

The room is dark, lit by the beams of moonlight that pour in, it’ll take some moments before your eyes adapt to the shadows of the night. Before you could think to move the sound of rustling and a sword unsheathing alert you of a presence. You need not see who it is to know it is your uncle Daemon. 

You curse yourself turning to face him. He holds his sword pointing it towards your chest and it should frighten you but the storm outside threatens you more than he does.

“There is no honor in killing a man while he sleeps”, he says, stepping into the light of the moon ready to strike your unrecognizable form. 

“I do not intend on killing you Uncle”

At your words his sword drops, “Sweet Dragon, why are you sneaking into our chambers?”

You’ve come to grow accustomed to your moniker slipping from his mouth in a mocking manner, but tonight his voice holds no ill intent. 

Lightning cuts through the sky in a loud shout before you can respond. Your skin crawls and you’re trying to keep your voice from wavering, “It’s quite loud”

“Are you frightened?” he asks, stepping towards you. His eyes bore into yours and under the moonlight it’s as if they are glowing. 

Your heart stammers and you shake your head in embarrassment, clearly lying. A small grin spreads against his lips and you know he sees right through you. The thought and his gaze becomes too much for you to bear as your eyes fall onto the floor. 

“There is no one around to pretend for”, he places his hand under your chin as he tilts your head up, to once again meet his gaze. His gentle demeanor disarms you, most times he’s brutish, arrogant, and entirely uninterested in you. 

“I am merely skittish . . .” you clasp your hands behind your back trying to appear more collected than you felt. 

He looks you over, his eyes sparkle in the moonlight only this time you’re unable to avert your gaze. His fingers hold you still and a sinking feeling of being prey washes over you.

“Rhaenyra?” he asks 

The voice of your sister emerges from the darkness surprising you, “Yes, my love,” 

“It seems our intruder is our favorite little princess”, his fingers trace your jaw, concentrating his eyes on your lips. 

Fear is an afterthought as an indescribable feeling crawls up your body. Your stomach flips under his touch and you fear to know why. 

Rhaenyra says your name, “Come here” 

Without a second thought you walk towards her voice, your eyes now adjusting to the moonlight making out shadows in the darkness. 

Rhaenyra sits upon her bed, furs laid spread over her lap she smiles fondly as you approach. 

Once you’re before her she instructs you to sit, “Has the storm unnerved you?” she asks, placing her hands on yours. They’re soft and her touch is almost enough to make you forget why you had entered her chambers to begin with.

“It is quite loud” 

“Yes you have said that already” Daemon says. His approach has gone unnoticed by you as he stands opposite of Rhaenyra. The side of the bed you assumed he slept on. 

“I read to father during storms,” you admit sheepishly

“Oh you poor sweet girl” she coos, “Would you like to read to us?”, you nod almost enthusiastically, “Come then” she pulls you forward unfastening your cloak. 

The warmth of her hands on your exposed shoulder sends you into a panic. Your septa had made it clear how your virtue was to be maintained until you married. No living eyes were to be set on your chaste skin but your future husband’s and yet you sat next to your sister who threatened to stain your skin. You tremble under her touch unsure how you could deny her. 

Grabbing her hands you halt her movements, “I’m only reading, I’ll be returning to my chambers once the storm passes”

“Of course” she agrees, “But while you are here my husband and I can keep you warm, as can the furs” 

Her smile kills your resolve and like a puppet in her control you cave in, Rhaenyra had always had that effect on you. You thought so highly of her and loved her dearly of course you were always eager to please. Any want or command uttered by her and you’d comply instantly. 

Removing your hands from hers, the cloak falls from your shoulders and she tosses it aside. You shiver as the cold air comes in contact with your bare skin. The nightgown you wore was less than modest, showing more skin then was appropriate for a lady let alone a princess. The feeling of being gawked at consumes you—their eyes burn into your skin.

“Come here princess” Daemon’s voice makes your knees weak. In the moonlight you see a smile on Rhaenyra’s lips, you take it as encouragement and crawl onto the bed. You settle between both their bodies but Daemon tugs at you pulling you towards him, the movement causes your nightgown to slide up your thighs exposing more of your skin. 

If your septa could see you now… you cringe at the thought mortified. Your heart patters rapidly, Gods if it kept beating you were sure Daemon and Rhaenyra were going to hear it. 

If Daemon notices your exposed skin he doesn’t show it, he rather seems preoccupied with adjusting you before him. His legs spread as he sat you between them, his chest pressed against your back as he loomed over you. 

He grabs at your sides pulling you closer to him, and if your heart didn't explode before it exploded when you felt Rhaenyra lips kiss your shoulder then rest her head where she had kissed. 

Your mind and heart betray you as you become a victim to their siren song. You’re a vision of adultery and sin, it’s wrong–unbecoming of a princess and yet you do nothing to stop them. 

With his left arm Daemon keeps you tucked under him and he wraps his right around Rhaenyra who nestles into your shoulder. You had not thought this was where you would find yourself at the beginning of the night. 

The storm is a long way from your thoughts as you try to figure out how your body fits into theirs, if it could. You’re against both of them unsure of how to move. 

You feel Daemon reach for something, “Read this” his breath touches your ear as he places a book on your lap. Being caught between them you had almost forgotten how you ended up practically on Daemon’s lap. 

Picking up the book you read the title, The Mythos of the Land Beyond Essos: Yiti. The book provides a much welcomed distraction, you had heard of Yiti before but only in passing from Lord Coryls. 

“Is it real?” you ask absentmindedly to no one in particular

“Of course it is, sweet girl,” Rhaenyra says, slithering her arm over your lap fully intrapping you in their hold 

Opening the book you were met with half of a map littered with cities and towns you had never heard of. As you turn the page the book's wear and tear is visible, it was clearly loved. For a moment you wonder if it was Rhaenyra or Daemon who loved it. Your thoughts like many times throughout the night are interrupted by thunder and relentless down pouring of rain.

You jump frightened hearing a chuckle come from Daemonand who places a kiss on your hair Any other night the gesture would have been ill fitting and strange but tonight it brings you comfort.

“Read” he gently commands and like an obedient dog you do

You read through four pages undisturbed, your voice only occasionally interrupted by the storm outside that is until you feel Daemon’s fingers on the exposed skin of your upper thigh. Gentle thoughtless traces of his fingers over your flesh. 

His touch makes you acutely aware of their bodies pressed against yours, body heat and furs warmed you like no other. With every hound of the wind and pounding of the rain you shook, which was made worse by their hands and lips trying to sooth you. 

Daemon’s left hand draws circles on your left thigh. Rhaenyra kisses your shoulder and any exposed skin she could reach. It was intoxicating her lips and his fingers. How were you supposed to read when there were two hungry dragons trying to feast upon you. 

The words you’re reading pass thoughtlessly through your mouth, once the information found a home in your mind now simply glossed over. 

Daemon’s lips fall on the nape of your neck sending a shiver down your spine and a soft whimper from your lips. 

In a small effort to keep them at bay you ask questions, it works for the first two questions but after the third Daemon grabs the book from your grasp and throws it. 

With the book out of their way they both grew relentless. Daemon kisses and nips at your neck without disregard. Rhaenyra readjusts herself to be able to access your collar bones, her lips beginning to trail up your neck and jaw. The furs had been tossed somewhere on the bed. 

“Nyra” you plead, nervous of what was to come next. Pressing your thighs together as a warm feeling emitted from your womanhood. 

“Shhh” she coos, kissing your cheek dangerously close to your lips. 

Daemon’s hand pulls your nightgown exposing more of your thighs to the night air. 

You should leave, you know you should but the thought of enduring the storm alone keeps you in place, “Perhaps…Perhaps I should r-read from another b-book” you try to stop Daemon’s hand pulling your nightgown from his grasp

Your efforts are futile as Rhaenyra interrupts you by planting her lips on yours. The action leaves you entranced by her, you melt into her lips moving yours against hers. She tastes like tea, warm and sweet. 

Under Rhaenyra’s spell you’re unaware of Daemon sliding your nightgown further and further upward. His hands stopped only to touch your inner thighs nearing your clothed cunt. You squirmed thinking of the septa’s words, the only man who can lay a finger on you is your husband.

“I can’t…I can't,” you say, breaking away from Rhaenyra and moving away from Daemon’s hold. You move away from them putting some distance between your sister and her husband. 

“Why not?” Rhaenyra asks

They’re feigning ignorance and you don’t know why, “I’m not wed” 

They both laugh and share a knowing expression. 

“Silly girl,” Daemon says, pulling you back to them, his hands dragging you back between his legs, “You are not to wed” his breath is hot against your ear as you try not to think of the heat that expels from his hands

Confusion is clear across your face, “But the Queen said—”

At the mention of Queen Alicent his grip of your flesh tightens, “To the Seven Hells with Alicent,” his hold on your flesh is half as painful as it is pleasurable. 

“You are ours”, Rhaenyra cuts in, “You shall not be sullied by hands that are not our own”, she plants a kiss on your shoulder.  

You’re unable to make sense of their words, you could not be theirs, you would only ever be your husband’s. And yet you could not find the words to say it aloud—to let them know you could not be sullied by them despite how desperately you wanted. 

Your attention is fully on Rhaenyra that the sneaking fingers along your jaw have gone unnoticed. Daemon’s fingers trace your lips before gently pushing themselves into your mouth. They’re cold as he presses them against your tongue and you can taste ash. The taste is almost telling, you think. 

“Suck” Daemon commands

You hesitate for a moment frightened at the possibilities of what would happen next and what they entailed. But all your thoughts fizzle away when Rhaenyra’s mouth bites down on your shoulder and without a second thought you do, making sure they’re thoroughly coated in your saliva. He spreads his fingers exploring your mouth before shoving them down your throat. The unexpected action leaves you coughing gagging, which earns an amused laugh from Daemon as he retreats his fingers.

“Good girl” he kisses your ear and you bite your tongue in order to stifle a whimper. His words ignite a fire that spreads throughout your body, it’s alluring leaving a blazing trail of want in its wake. The need to be praised has your head spinning, never had praise elicited such a reaction from you before. You want to continue being good and dutiful for Daemon and Rhaenyra. 

Rhaenyra sits in front of you both simply watching as her husband's fingers trailed under your nightgown. He pulls your small clothes to the side, the anticipation killing you as his fingers neared. It’s reprehensible you know, but you do not have the willpower to stop him.  

Your breathing stops as two of his fingers come into contact with your sensitive pearl. He groans as he feels the heat of your cunt, drawing circles with his fingers. You bite your cheek trying to stop yourself from moaning, leaning your head against his chest. His fingers begin to accelerate as he wraps your hair around his free hand pulling you to look forward.

“Look at Rhaenyra, sweet dragon, she wants to see you” 

Your eyes catch hers, they’re lit with fervent desire, a look you had never seen before. While you wish you could stare at Rhaenyra forever, Daemon's fingers have returned to their slow pace leaving you unfulfilled and on the cusp of pleasure.

Turning to face him you plead, “Please”, you’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for, only that you need more. Embarrassed by your plead you hide your face in the crook of his neck

“Please what princess” he presses against your pearl roughly 

Through a moan you speak, “Need more” 

You don’t see the delighted smile that spreads over Daemon’s face as he gathers fistfulls of your hair forcing you out of your hiding spot. His eyes fall onto your sister and you’re trying desperately not to let out a string of unbecoming moans. 

With another tug Daemon crashes his lips onto yours, the angel which he pulls you almost hurts but his mouth and fingers provide a wonderful distraction. The kiss is rough, tongues and teeth clashing. All the while his fingers never cease their attack and you’re quickly becoming undone. 

An unfamiliar pressure builds and you find yourself near a breaking point you had never experienced. The building pleasure has your heart beating out of your chest, it’s dizzying. But just when you think you can’t take it anymore Daemon’s fingers stop and he releases your lips. You moan out in disappointment.

“Perhaps you should ask the future Queen for assistance” he pulls your hair like a rag doll. Moving you as he pleases, facing you again towards Rhaenyra. 

“Nyra please”

Gripping your hair even tighter exposing your neck he whispers, “Where are your manners?”

“Please, your highness” you beg eyes glossed over full of want

Rhaenyra smirks, leaning into you momentarily allowing your lips to meet again which you welcome eagerly. 

The kiss is gentle at first, your lips moving in sync. Her tongue laps at your bottom lip and you shutter feeling Daemon ghosting his fingers above your aching pearl. When one of his long fingers threatens to enter your leaking hole you moan into Rheanyra's mouth. She takes the opportunity to kiss you with more vigor. Her lips are so soft and you’re entranced by her, thoughts racing, why had you never kissed her before?

When she finally breaks away she leaves you breathless and you get no time to recover as she pulls the top of your nightgown down exposing your breast. Heat spreads over your cheeks, never having been so bare in front of anyone before. 

The thoughts quickly leave your mind as Rhaenyra’s tongue drags against your hardening nipple. She uses the pad of her thumb to draw circles against your nipple, the sensation adds fuel to the fire in your core. She expertly nips and sucks only stopping to change breasts. 

“N…Nyra please … enough” you try to weakly fight her off. Receiving far more stimulation from your nipples then you thought could ever be possible. Instead she removes her mouth and replaces them with her hands, pinching and pulling without regard. There’s an electrifying pain that shoots down your spine, you had never thought your breast to be so sensitive. 

Rhaenyra does not argue, continuing to toy with your breast as she moves towards her husband. She practically purrs as she nears him a smile lingering on her lips, your eyes close shut as she continues her attack. Above your shoulder she kisses Daemon as if she were not inflecting the most deliciously painful pleasure. The drool that leaked out of you was as shameful as it was degrading. 

When they finally pull away Daemon pushes a finger into your neglected hole, earning a yelp from your lips. The sudden intrusion is foreign and stings, biting your bottom lip you try to keep your cries of discomfort from spilling out.

They work in tandem drawing pleasure out of you with their expert touches. The way you squirm beneath them is pathetic and a distant image to the woman the realm knew you to be. 

“So fucking tight” Daemon says adding a second finger causing your head to spin. He moves his fingers expertly in and out of your cunt. Loving the feeling of your velvety walls, he speaks to Rhaenyra but you can’t hear them. Deaf under the spell of your uncle’s long fingers, your eyes are shut concentrating on the flowering pleasure that was beginning to take hold. 

Rhaenyra’s hands stop their movements and you’re half heartedly aware of the way the bed shifts far too caught up in your pleasure. You’re unraveling completely melted into Daemon, unable to keep your moans quiet they fall from your lips like a waterfall. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach as Daemon stretches you open fucking his fingers into you, you’re left a blubbering mess. 

His fingers mercilessly hit every spot in your spongy cunt, you take every bit of bliss he gives you. Sweat gathers on your pinched brows, your skin feels hot against the cool night air. 

After an especially hard thrust he angles his fingers just right and your walls tighten around him. You feel as though you’re going to die, your breaths come in short quick intervals, you're on the edge of pleasure nearly going under. 

And as if he read your thoughts Daemon halts his movements, removing his fingers from your warmth, “So pretty when you moan” 

Your eyes open in disappointment, missing the feeling of being played with. But Daemon gives you no time to react as he orders you to open your mouth. 

“Taste your filth”

Obediently you do, his fingers are heavy on your tongue wrapping your mouth around them tasting yourself—you’re bitter and sharp unlike anything you had ever tasted. 

When Daemon decides you’ve had enough he pulls his fingers out and kisses you. 

You’ve forgotten about Rhaenyra until you feel a wet sensation on your pearl. With a moan your eyes shift downwards where she rests on her stomach between your legs. She’s excitedly lapping you up, her tongue sending you into a frenzy as she focuses on your puffy cunt.

Moments ago you had thought the height of pleasure was your uncle’s fingers yet it was actually your sister's mouth. 

“Ngh…Nyera” 

Your cries only invigorate her, she presses her tongue into your hole and the sudden motion has you bucking your hips. She laughs into your cunt, amused, sending vibrations straight into your pearl. 

She’s an expert at what she does, her tongue running up and down your slit. Sucking on your pearl with such vigor before fucking her tongue into you. This was not the first time your sister had done such a lewd act and the thought of Rhaenyra having done this before with another woman has jealousy crawling up your back. 

Distracted by Rhaenyra you don’t feel Daemon’s hand lowering, not until his cold fingers are pressing into your pearl. Two of his fingers begin moving sporadically electrifying every fiber of your body. You’re writhing in pleasure, burning with passion consumed by Rhaenyra and Daemon, unsure of how much more you could take. Coming undone as they pull you apart just to put you back together with nothing but their hands and lips.

You’re squirming, “Uncle, Ny…Nyra I’m—I”

Like before Daemon’s movements stop followed by Rhaenyra, you look between them dazed with need and confused. You pout in frustration, tired of being dragged to the edge of pleasure only to have it ripped away from you. 

In response Daemon turns you  to face him, “Fret not sweet dragon, we’ll give you what you want”. His lips fall on yours forcibly, kissing you as if you were the only thing able to quench his hunger. 

He moves off the bed and Rhaenyra grabs your hips, pulling you towards her gently pushing you to fall onto the bed backfirst. With your legs hanging off the bed she crawls on top of you slowly, taking her time to ravish your body with bites and kisses. Her teeth sink into the softness of your flesh and though it hurts you can’t help but moan. Goosebumps rise over your body as she sucks the skin under your breast. When she’s had enough she lifts her head to meet your collar bones, she wastes no time sucking on your skin. Making sure to leave her mark on your skin. 

The feeling is different yet so enticing, full of tenderness and lust. You’re moaning under her and you realize just how empty your cunt feels as it drips for Rhaenyra. 

You need more, desperate for it your hands move not entirely sure of what you are doing only knowing you needed more of her. You pull Rhaenyra’s nightgown trying to get it off. But only managing to pull the top of it revealing her breasts. You make quick work of taking them in your hands, they’re soft and firm, plump from having been filled with milk many times. 

Her mouth releases your skin as she moans

“My two pretty nieces playing with each other, I could die a happy man right now” Daemon stands behind your bodies. His hands touch your thighs repositioning your body how he’d like. Your clay in his hands—pliable—letting him mold you however he likes rendering him full control of your being.

He slides what you can only assume is his cock between your folds moaning as he does so. Warning drums sound off in your ears, you should put a stop to the night's debauchery and end it before you’re ruined forever. But your inhibitions are lowered and you couldn’t exactly care to think what a septa or the realm would think. Not when you were pinned between Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Rhaenyra adjusts herself above you, her knees resting on either side of your hips, giving Daemon room to do as he pleases.

“How do you feel princess?” Her voice is laced with teasing affection. You are unsure how to respond if you could at all, focused entirely on the sensation of Daemon’s cock pressing against your cunt. 

He gives you no warning as he pushes the tip of cock into your weeping cunt, it’s tight and uncomfortable. The intrusion is painful; it feels like you’re being pulled apart, like your body was being set aflame. 

“Fuck” the word falls from Daemon’s lips like a prayer

The fur under you is balled in your fists trying to ease the pain, tears form in your eyes 

“Dae–”

He shushes you, “The pain will lull soon” 

“Be good for uncle, won’t you sweet girl?” Rhaenyra asks kissing along your neck

You’re nodding 

When he fully sheaths himself a painful sob escapes your lips. Your eyes are shut trying to weather the storm. You’re half frightening he’ll start fucking you, the pain would surely kill you. But he does not move, allowing you a moment to become accustomed to his length. 

“Gods, you’ve been keeping such an amazing cunt from us” he says after a moment, slowly he begins to move. Pulling himself out before gently pushing himself back in. 

The first few thrusts send shockwaves through your body. In an effort to distract you from the discomfort Rhaenyra plays with your breast. Nipping one with her mouth while she rolled the other between her thumb and forefinger. You shudder at the stark differences in sensations, like ice and fire you’re teetering the line between pleasure and pain. Tears fall from your eyes as you clenched tightly around Daemon’s cock, Rhaenyra kisses them away. 

The longer Daemon continues his intrusion the faster the pain soothes into a warm pleasure. When a moan escapes your mouth he responds with a sharp thrust. Bliss rests heavy on your brow, the lewd squelching from every thrust only adds fuel to your heightened state.

Rhaenyra moans above you, her face contorted in ecstasy, she’s the vision of desire, a nymph of lust and pleasure. You piece together that Daemon’s fingers are exploring the warmth cavern of her cunt. As you watch her, her eyes find yours and she leans down to kiss you. It’s sloppy and full of half-sound moans. Her breaths begin to quicken and for a brief moment your uncle slows his thrusts to focus on Rhaenyra. Though you miss the feeling you discovered your love for watching your sister lose herself to your uncle.

Her moans only grow louder, she’s calling out her husband's name. Pushing herself into his fingers and suffocating you with her breasts. 

She shakes, eyes rolled to the back of her head with her mouth half opened. Her body is spasming above yours, moans fall from her mouth like prayers as she peaks all over Daemon’s fingers.

She falls on top of you, her head resting on your chest as she tries to catch her breath. Without thinking you caress her hair, it's soft and smooth and it almost startles you when she looks up to you. 

For a moment while you hold her gaze the entire world falls away, nothing else matters but her. You could spend the rest of your life just gazing at her—worshiping at her altar. A gentle smile appears on her lips as she climbs off your body, she moves towards Daemon kissing him passionately. You almost averted your gaze, the act felt so intimate it did not feel right to watch.

Daemon rests comfortably inside you as they kiss, the entire time you have not been able to pull your eyes away from them. And when it is over, as if nothing had occurred Daemon resumes his relentless pace. His cock is pressed deliciously inside you forcing you to see stars. He repeats his actions over and over again. 

“Perfect fucking tits,” he leans down to catch your bouncing breast. Wrapping his lips around your nipple as he thrust harder, lapping at it like a crazed man. His mouth is hot against your skin, his tongue rough as he suckles—as if expecting milk. The thought sends a shiver down to your cunt, causing your walls to flutter against Daemon’s cock. 

“I should put a child in you just to watch your breast swell” 

You know he shouldn’t, it’s wrong you’d be ruined–-more so than you already were—no man would ever marry if you had a bastard. But you can’t suppress the moan from leaving your lips, squeezing around Daemon like a glove. His hips falter for a moment as you choke his cock, “Fuck, does the idea appeal to you?” 

“We could keep her here, have her birth our heirs, keep her stuffed with cock”, Rhaenyra chimes and her words are enough to push you over the edge vibrating with pleasure. Your back arches off the bed as your body is consumed with ecstasy. You’re first ever release racking through you without mercy. 

Daemon moans, your contracting cunt making it near impossible for him to move. 

Your chest heaves as you try to regain your breath, try to regain the composure you had lost hours ago. 

But you’re given no time to do so as Daemon pulls himself from your cunt and flips you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips as he pulls them up, your head is pressed against the bed. A blush creeps on your cheeks, the position is lewd, one you had overheard Aegon say was reserved for whores. 

Your thoughts dissolve as Daemon runs the tip of his cock along your sensitive wet folds. His movements leave you shuddering, wanting him to just get on with it. 

“Uncle please,” you whine pushing your hips back onto him

“So eager” his hands roam the expanse of your ass before sheathing himself once more inside you. 

The angle offers you a new pleasure, spread wide before Daemon like a feast at the ready for him to devour. Your walls flutter with sensitivity and yet it does not deter Daemon from pulling ropes of pleasure out of you. It exudes from your cunt tenfold and wrenches through your body unyielding. Like everything about the night it’s overwhelming bordering the edge of pain, but you’re too drunk off Daemon and Rhaenyra to put an end to it. Not when Daemon is molding your insides, as if to make sure no other suitor could ever compare. Not that you would ever want another suitor, you could spend the rest of your life beneath Daemon. 

Cold fingers slither themselves up your spine, snaking themselves around the side of your neck. Daemon’s touch is rough, callus hands pressed against the soft of your throat. Fingers stretch over the expanse of your throat, squeezing ever so lightly and you swear you see stars. An involuntary moan escapes your lips as you arch your back into him and it's all the encouragement Daemon needs to apply more pressure. 

Every thrust from Daemon has the air in your lungs exuding at a rapid pace. Your head starts to throb, all your senses are melting into one another. Daemon’s touch is paralyzing; you're frozen, stuck in a twisted masochistic purgatory and loving every moment of it. 

The grip on your neck tightens, cutting the little airflow you were getting. Above you Daemon leans down the heat of his chest against your back. He whispers something in your ear but you can’t hear anything above the beating of your heart. You’re not sure how much longer you could take, eyes half lidded and bordering tears—you’re barely holding onto consciousness. 

Just when the arms of unconsciousness threaten to pull you under, his grip releases and his thrusts come to a stop. Like a stone dropped onto the bottom of a river your head falls straight onto the bed. You try to regain your breath, through painful breaths the sound of Rhaenyra’s laughter reaches your ears. Through your lashes you look upon her, she sits before you smiling, eyes glowing under moonlight. 

“What a spoiled princess, receiving such fervent treatment from my husband” 

In response Daemon gently kisses your back. Slowing and ever so carefully moving his hips as he does so, you moan and Rhaenyra laughs again. 

“Come now, before I’m seething with jealousy” she moves. Her legs spread before you, nightgown exposing her flesh as she adjusted. You have an idea about what means to happen next but your inexperience has you doubting your thoughts. 

Your head lifts in realization that she’s settling herself, her clothed cunt only a touch away. You’re captivated by the allure of her covered womanhood. 

“Go on princess, serve your queen” Daemon voice rings out as he reaches to tangle his hand in your hair forcing you towards Rhaenyra’s cunt. 

She looks down at you, a seductive smile playfully lingering on her lips. She lifts her dress agonizingly slow, pulling the thin layer of her nightgown exposing the smoothness of her skin. When she's finally revealed to you in all her glistening glory you waste no time, diving right into her core. You’re half surprised she wasn’t wearing any small clothes but you don’t think twice about it, devouring her with novice eagerness. 

As you run your tongue through her folds you clench around Daemon getting your first real taste of Rhaenyra. She tastes poignant and sweet like a nectar you had never known but were growing addicted too. You kiss her swollen womanhood inhaling her sweet scent, pressing your tongue against it before swirling around it. Though you know your inexperience shows you eat her up like she was your last meal in the living world. 

Her moans are music to your ears, you look up to watch as her chest heaves. Invigorated by her pleasure you flick your tongue fucking it against her dripping hole, through a half open moan her eyes fall on yours. Her brows are pinched together in ecstasy as her thighs close around your head keeping you in place not that you could think of moving away. 

The world falls away as you bring your sister to the heights of pleasure, drunk by the feeling of her warm cunt wrapped around your face. It’s lewd and disgusting and yet you can’t get enough of it. 

In a sudden motion your attention is pulled away from Rhaenyra, you’re unable to turn your head but you feel Daemon’s cock retracting before he thrust it back to the hilt. You moan into Rhaenyra, sending shooting vibrations through her. She chokes out a moan as her hand comes down to grip your hair. 

She roughly tugs as you continue the intrusion of her cunt, pushing you further into her. Your nose bumps her puffy pearl as you move uncoordinated—distracted and falling victim to Daemon’s relentless attacks. The squelching sounds of your weeping cunt sends your mind into a frenzy, it’s filthy and obscene. 

“Such a good girl,” Rhaenyra purrs, “Had I know you were so good at eating cunt I would have had you on your knees long ago” 

Her words of praise have your pussy fluttering around Daemon who grunts in response. Your mind has gone completely blank, you've lost yourself knowing nothing but the hot liquid pleasure that Daemon and Rhaenyra were tearing out of you. They’re molding you into shapes only they knew—only they could touch. 

Daemon nestles himself so deeply you’re sure if you reach down you’d feel him in your stomach. You try to keep up your pace on Rhaenyra but with Daemon’s insistent thrusts you’re having trouble, sloppily licking and inserting your tongue into her. 

“Gods you were both made for my cock”, he grunts out but you can’t think of a single response. You’re pushed into Rhaenyra with every thrust, slurping her overflowing bliss. 

At her husband’s words Rhaenyra releases you from her grasp letting her legs fall away and you take the opportunity to rest your head on the inside of her thigh. Moaning against her skin coming undone on your uncle’s cock. 

“Is that true, do you think we were made for Daemon’s cock?” Rhaenyra’s hand drops from your hair and gently caresses your face. You can hardly process their words, unable to speak, lost in pleasure and too concentrated on the feeling of Daemon pulling out then stuffing you with each thrust. 

“Did the princess forget how to speak?” Daemon teases his hand coming down to slap the meat of your ass

“She’s cock drunk” Rhaenyra laughs, grabbing your hair and pushing you back into her heat, crying out as she does so. Your tongue laps over her absentmindedly but it’s enough to have her legs trembling. 

Roughly she tugs your hair, her moans becoming more frequent and you know she’s just as close to coming undone as you are.

Minutes stretch into hours as you’re used by your sister and her husband as nothing more than an object to achieve their own pleasure. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, unable to do anything but writhe in their grasps.  

With a final lap of your tongue over her womanhood Rhaenyra comes undone against your tongue. Like before her thighs press against your head keeping you locked in place. The sounds that escape her are so indecent you would have never thought sounds like that could come out of the realms delight. Greedily you swallow everything she gives you. 

The spell Rhaenyra cast over you is broken when Daemon spanks your ass again, but now you’re able to turn your head to face him. Head laying on Rhaenyra’s thigh looking back to see Daemon smirking, continuing his assault on your sensitive walls, hips slapping against yours. 

“Uncle…Uncle” you breathe out feeling the thundering shockwaves of pleasure crashing over you. Your words do nothing to divert Daemon, who continues to fuck himself into you. 

In a matter of short moments you’re overwhelmed by pleasure—pushed over the edge by a final slap on the ass by Daemon. You muffle your cry into the bed, shaking in elation. Your body feels like it was struck by lightning, overly sensitive by the pleasure that was just ripped out of you. 

Behind you Daemon unsheathes himself from the warmth of your cavern. Without his hands holding your hips up, you drop onto the soft bed. Mind left a puddle of mush as sleep begins to weigh your eyelids. Your consciousness begins to slip into the realm of dreams, not bothering to check on the wellbeing of your sister or uncle. 

The bed dips at both ends and you feel gentle hands adjust you against the bed, laying you onto your back. 

“Come here sweet dragon I’d like you on top when I release my seed”, Daemon says crawling above you. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of his voice and he smiles down at you. 

Rhaenyra laughs from beside you, “You’re insatiable. Can’t you see she is tired” 

He turns to her, “She is free to object,” then returns to you, “Do you object princess?” 

You know you should, not sure if your body could handle any more of what Daemon wanted to give you. He would surely tear you apart, leaving his marks on your body and spent for days to come—the thought sends a thrill of anticipation down your spine. 

His eyes bear into yours and there’s a hint of softness in them you had never seen before. Of the entirety of your stay in Dragonstone he had never once spared you a glace much less held a conversation with you. Yet now he wanted nothing more than to consume you and after the events of the night your mind has gone feeble. And the look in his eyes is all persuasion you needed, through hooded eyes you shake your head. 

“There’s your answer wife” Daemon shoots her a boastful smile, in return she laughs. His attention is drawn back to you with a kiss, it’s short and sweet but you’re far too tired to appreciate it for what it’s worth. 

“Come now,” he pulls you up with him maneuvering you on top of him as he lays with his back against the bed. Without needing to be told what to do you spread your legs straddling his lap. Daemon ushers your hips over his standing manhood, gently pushing the tip of his cock into your drenched entrance. 

Your sensitive walls make it near impossible for you to fully take him. He groans below slowly pushing you further and further onto his cock. Your body shutters as you take all of Daemon, every single one of your nerve endings on fire. 

After a moment his hands fall onto your hips guiding you to rise then fall onto him. The sensation leaves you trembling, unable to hold your head up, it falls on his chest. 

Your eyes are screwed shut feeling an aching pain coiling in your stomach as tears threaten to spill out, “I…I can’t” you almost sob

He shushes you running his hand over your hair in a consoling manner, “You can”

Tears begin to stain your face as your abused walls clutch against Daemon. He thrust into you slowly, grabbing your face so you’d meet his gaze. You’re fully seated on him as a tear falls from your right eye, he brushes a tear from your face bringing your face to his. 

“Such a good girl taking me so well,” he praises, burying his head in the crock of your neck. He leaves a trail of kisses up your jaw, “Could spend the rest of my life buried inside you”

His words shouldn’t thrill you as much as they do, yet you find desire pooling at your feet lulling the coiling pain. Pleasure comes slow and then all at once bliss blossoms through your body, the sensitivity of your previous releases leaving you with a heightened sensitivity. 

Without Daemon’s guidance you lift your hips and sink yourself back down. You moan when Daemon meets your lifted hips, moving your hands onto his chest straightening your back to sit yourself comfortably. It’s like nothing you’ve felt before, you’re completely full of cock—stuffed to the brim. The feeling is addicting as if your sole purpose in life was to be seated on Daemon’s cock. 

He fucks into you quickening his pace, your cries become louder and more frequent completely entranced in a haze of blistering hot euphoria. You’re pressing your hips against his trying to reach your peak again, chasing that intoxicating feeling. Perhaps Rhaenyra’s idea was not so bad afterall, you give them all the heirs they wanted.

“You’ve been such a good girl for us” he says rutting up to you, his grip tightening around your hips. Indenting into the plush of your skin sure to leave bruises. Your mind becomes a flurry filled blur as you begin to bounce on your uncle’s cock. Hands pressed to his chest trying to find some sort of grounding leverage. You find it, if only momentarily before Daemon’s tip brushes against a spongy part of your cunt. 

A loud cry emits from your lips, unable to hold yourself together any longer. Your walls clench around Daemon who digs his fingers further onto your skin. A groan bubbles in his chest; it's almost animalistic as it travels up his throat. Your eyes fall onto his, there's a dangerous edge of hungering lust that has your head spinning. 

A dangerous smile dances on his lips as his hands travel up your chest towards your bouncing breasts. He cups them, holding them for a moment before squeezing. You shiver at the feeling of his warm fingers on your cold nipples. 

Nearly falling apart at the sensation combined with his insistent thrusts. At the speed he’s hammering you with, you know he’s about to reach his peak. Your eyes close shut when his forefinger and thumb clamp around your right nipple rolling it between them. 

You feel your head explode with pleasure, it shutters through you with such intensity your vision goes white. There’s a brief moment where you think Daemon has fucked you blind. But when you see the ‘o’ shape of his mouth you’re almost thankful he did not, loving the image of him left at your mercy. 

The spasming of your high around him pushes Daemon into his own release. Your nails dig into his skin as he spills himself inside of you, his head thrown back in a moan as your cunt milks his cock. 

After a moment his thrusts become shallow as his elation wears off. He smiles triumphantly, hands sliding down to your hips. His glee should fill you with shame—regretful of the sinful actions that took place upon your sister’s marriage bed but instead you feel satisfied.

Breathlessly you collapse on his chest feeling his seed leak out of you. With your head against his chest you think you should run out of the room, flee to the walls of your chambers and hide from the grotesque act you committed. But exhaustion wears on your bones rendering you unable to move. Your legs tremble, tender from the amount of pressure they endured. 

Daemon says something but you don’t catch a single utterance. 

“Mhm” you hum too tired to ask him to repeat himself. He chuckles, readjusting you both on the bed, you moan as he moves—his cock still buried inside you. 

Your eyes close inhaling Daemon, the smell of leather and musk invades your nostrils. You hate that you find it comforting, hate that you want to stay wrapped in the arms of your sister’s husband. A man that was not yours and yet allowed to defile your womanhood. 

As if Daemon could sense your storming thoughts he traces his fingers on the small of your back. His touch brings you a strange solace, tomorrow you would feel conflicted about your blossoming emotions towards your sister and her husband. Tonight you’d sleep sheltered from the storm, tomorrow you’d face the reality of your situation. 

“Are you drifting off to sleep?” Daemon's voice is almost sweet but before you could answer the chamber door opens. The sound of footsteps entering alert you to a new presence but you can’t move limbs weighing you down instead you hide in the crook of Daemon’s neck. Mortified to have been caught in the bed chambers of the future Queen and her King Consort. 

“And where did you run off too?” Daemon nonchalantly asks his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin

“Refreshments my love,” the sound of your sister’s voice comes as a surprise, you hadn’t noticed the absence of her presence. But you’re happy she’s returned, missing the warmth of her body on yours. You lift your head to see her standing at the foot of the bed, a plate full of fruits and a flagon of wine in hand. 

“Who’s insatiable now?”

[swiftiewillwrite]

how you get the girl

jason todd x reader

fanart by @twalxx (found on pinterest)

pairing - jason todd x reader

warnings - smut! starts angsty, fluff and smut later :))

a/n - this is my first smut, but i had like all of my friends proof read so im super excited to share this with yall! songfic based on how you get the girl by taylor swift (and a bit of i wish you would)

Things had ended with Jason, but it hadn't had the desired effect.

It was just too painful when you were together, the not knowing. Not knowing if he was safe every night. Not knowing if you were safe. You were scared constantly, just never knowing. All you wanted was for him to be safe.

—

You realized you couldn't do it anymore when he went no contact for two days.

You had thought he was dead. You were pacing your townhouse nonstop, music following suit. Trying to drown out the silence and your thoughts. You plopped onto the couch, picturing every other time this had happened in your mind. The pain you felt every night, that worsened every time another hour went by. So you made your decision.

When he finally came home that night, ready to run into your arms, you closed them. and you fought. The front door opened and shut and all the built-up anger from two years of sleepless nights and not letting yourself be selfish flooded out of you.

“What the hell, Jason? Are you okay? I thought you were dead, you asshole!”

The tone in your voice shocked him, you could see it in his eyes. “What?”

Your tears were threatening to spill from your already red eyes, but you didn't let that stop you. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek. “I'm sorry, it's just-, I can't do this! Every week, I have to grapple with the fact that you could be dead! And what if you were? You can't come back every time you die, you know that!”

“What- what do you want me to do? There are always going to be people getting hurt, you know that.”

“Exactly. And I will never come first. You’re just too fucking good a person, Jason. you never let yourself be selfish! I wanted you to put us first.” You look at him; “Just go.”

“Is this for real?” And now tears were welling up in his eyes. “This was all so fast.”

“This was the opposite of fast. I just tried not to see it. Because I love you so, so, much Jason, that's why I can't do this. Just- send one of your siblings to get your stuff tomorrow.”

He pauses. “Okay, Doll, if this is what you want, I will go.”

“Don't call me that, you're gonna make this too hard,” You hear yourself let out an embarrassing snort through your snot and tears.

“Then can I kiss you goodbye, instead?”

Already sobbing, you nod.

—

And now you can't get him out of your head. It's been six months, and he won’t get out. Every time you see lights through your window coming from the street, you think maybe. Maybe he came home to you.

And you just hope that when he's out every night, saving more damsels, he thinks about your home in the center of the city.

Every night you prayed that he would come back. And say that he wants you, no matter what. Even if it was you who broke his heart, because you also broke your own. You wished for it like it was the only thing that kept you going, because it was.

But you never really believed your wish would come true. You had already burnt that bridge. And in doing so, burned away your past. Your friendships with the Waynes, every late night spent tending wounds.

2 A.M. another late night, doing anything you could to get your mind off of him. Especially tonight. The twenty-seventh of April. For the past two years, on this day, Jason had been in your bed. You held him, and told him he was safe. Safe from what happened to him on this day, years before you were able to take care of him. Your bed was empty, and it killed you to know he was probably in his own, having the nightmares you worked so hard to keep him safe from.

2 A.M. A rough and fast knock against your front door cuts through the sound of the pouring rain, and you find yourself looking through the peephole of your townhouse. Eye level with you is Jason Todd, curly hair soaked. You could see his breath in the cold, and how little his unzipped leather jacket was doing to keep him warm. You pull the door open.

“Are you insane?”

“I know, I just- I need you. Sweetheart, I need you back. God, it's been a long six months. I know, I fucked you up, i fucked us up, and that is reason enough for you to slam the door in my face, but..” he trailed off and made eye contact with you; “I will make it up to you. I just need you tonight. You know what tonight is, I know that you didn't forget,” He was pleading, eyebrows furrowed and tears welling in his eyes. “I can't get through tonight without you,”

And before you can process it, you're leaning in and your lips are on his again, and it feels like home. They're soft against you and feel the same as they did the last time you touched six months ago, if just more desperate. He wraps his arms around your back, embracing you tightly. You pull away for a quick second just to say: “Come in, stay the night. I missed you too. We can talk this through in the morning.”

He enters the home that had missed him so much, and you close the door behind him as fast as you can. He dives back for your lips, like a man who had been lost in the desert finally getting water. It was passionate, and for a moment made you forget that you had waited for so long. It just felt like before, and for the meantime would put a band-aid over the months of pain. You kissed him through the hallway, pushing him back to your room, and somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket. When you got to the bedroom, you shoved him against the door, biting his lips and letting yourself absolutely lose control on his mouth. When you pulled away, you could see that it was swollen and redder than when you had started.

You slowly moved down his neck, starting with a hickey on his jaw in a spot that you knew was his favorite place. He breathed out your name, giving you motivation to move down and kiss his adams apple. “Jesus, doll,”

You spread out, leaving marks all over his neck. The closer you got to his collarbone, the more vocal he was, letting out a dozen sickly-sweet nicknames for you. You start to make another bruise on his neck, but he squeaks out a “stop,”

You pull back. “Is something wrong?” for a moment fear creeps into your mind, and you remember. You haven't seen him in months, what if this is too much? This is the anniversary of his death, for god's sake-

“Can we move to the bed?”

Oh.

“Yeah, if you're ready-” you cut yourself off when Jay removes his shirt as youre speaking, revealing a tapestry of scars. A breath catches in your throat. Shit, you had almost forgotten how good he looks shirtless. Almost. “Yeah, okay,” You follow suit, pulling your shirt over your head and fumbling at your bra hooks.

You both stumble down the hallway, when you sit on the bed, back against the headboard. Jason looks at you like you're his last meal, and sits in between your legs, hands already reaching for your breasts.

Almost immediately, his fingers are tugging at your nipples and his lips are suckling at them. you squeal each time he bites at your nipples and he's moving back and forth between each like he can't choose his favorite, and humming nicknames for you every time he stops to breathe. After a couple minutes of sweet bliss, you put your hand in his still damp curls and push him off of you.

“Jay, I think you need some attention too.” you put his hand on his chest and push him down so he's lying on his back. You struggled with yanking his jeans down his legs as they were still wet with rainwater, but you managed. He starts: -wait, I didn't even get to- When you get down his boxers, his erection springing free, and he gasps, cutting himself off at the sensation of the cold air hitting him.

You settle in between his legs, wrapping a hand around him. Your thumb finds his tip and spreads his precum over his length, lubricating it for your hand to move. This elicits a reaction from him. “Jesus sweetheart, you never stop,”

You're confused. “Stop what?” you ask, pressing a kiss to his tip. He grunts.

“Making my heart pound out o’ my fucking chest, Doll,” He puts a hand on your cheek. “Never - fuck - stop.” you tighten your grip on his cock halfway through this phrase.

This makes you smile profusely, and to mask the grin, you open your mouth and fill it with the familiar feeling of Jason's member. He nearly howls in response, a string of profanities falling out of his mouth.

You look up at him with eyes you know he loves, and you hollow out your cheeks to - just for a second - suck harder. After this, you run your tongue along his base and pull off of him with a pop.

“Wait no- why- why did you stop? Baby, why did you stop?” Jason starts to whine, a sound you would never forget in your life, and you giggle.

“Relax,” you smile as you move to sit on top of him. You pull your shorts off, taking the panties with them. “I just want to ride you,”

“You're ready? Doll, I didn't even touch you, are you sure it won't hurt- ohmygod!”

You had started to lower yourself onto Jason's cock as he spoke, enjoying the way he was extra vocal when he didn't expect it. You leaned down to kiss him, and it was softer this time. Sweeter, romantic. Loving, not just lustful. And you can feel it, the affection for you that he had never lost. You pull away, your breathing fast and heavy, to say:

“I still love you,”

“I love you too,”

And just like that, it feels normal again. No time has passed and you got through another year together, trying to make what had once been the worst night in his life liveable. You laugh as you continue to lower yourself onto him, but the sound is garbled through a moan.

“What?” he asks, voice gruff from the pleasure.

“Nothing, it just did hurt a little, you were right.” Your eyes are sparkling, and your smile is somehow more beautiful than he remembered.

Jason smiled at you from his place on the bed, starstruck by you, and reached his arm between your legs to rub at your clit. You let out a whine that made you feel pathetic, but Jay reached behind your back to hold your chest against him, letting your bodies line up in an embrace that you were unsure if he knew was reassuring, or was just doing it to be closer to you. Either way, you were glad for the contact, and the feeling of his arm pressed between yours and his chest.

Jason's grin glinted in the warm lighting of your bedroom. You're reminded of a chip in one of his front teeth that you find all too endearing before he speaks. “Can you move, baby?” He punctuates this with pressing a circle against your clit. He smiles wider when you arch your back, pressing your tits harder onto him. You take a moment to regain words, but respond after a moment.

“Yeah,” you responded breathily, returning his smile. You lift your hips up and slowly lower yourself back down. Jason groans loudly, something that resembles your name falling from his mouth. Something snaps inside of you at the noise you had missed so much, and the next time you pull up, you slam yourself down on him.

“Holy fucking shit! Sweetheart, don't you need to take it sl- oh my god, oh my god, you're so perfect,” you continue this pattern, speeding up when he rubs your clit in that perfect way he would never forget.

You continue, sick slapping sounds filling the room. The muscles in your thighs and lower back are sore, and you start to slow down, sitting up so you're no longer lying on him. “ ‘M sorry Jaybird, I just - haven't done this in a while.” You look at your lover apologetically, but he doesn't speak a word back. All Jason does is grab your waist, looking into your eyes for a nod before he takes control.

He pumps up into you, hips lifting off the mattress and pushing deeper into you. You let out a pleasured scream, putting your hands on Jason's pecs, rolling a nipple in between your fingers absentmindedly. His thrusting speeds up when you start doing this. “Jason- Jesus Christ, so good.”

“Yeah? I know baby, I know it feels good,” another of his moans interrupts his sentence, but he continues- “You make me feel good too. So good.”

Somehow his thrusts get more rushed, pushing deeper into you. You let out a pitiful scream when he presses against your cervix, pain mixing into pleasure at the feeling of him bruising you. Jason hears you, and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. You can tell he's close. “Baby, I'm gonna- where do you want it?” He whines, and your walls tighten at the sight of his eyes pleading with yours.

“Inside.”

“Baby, are you sure-”

“Please, Jason. Pill,” You start to beg, even though he hadn't asked for you to. “I need it. Need you. Missed you so much. Please!”

During your last word, you feel him release into you. Jason's hips sputter as he lets out another slightly pained moan. He lets his cock sit inside you for a moment, before he pulls himself out, his still hard cock sitting against his stomach. “Baby, get off. Let me make you cum. Let me clean you off.”

You blush at his words, as if you haven't fucked him a million times, nodding as you move off and onto the mattress. Jason repositions so you can rest your head on a pillow, pulling another to rest under your ass and lift you up.

Once you've settled as quickly as possible, Jason puts his face right against your pussy, admiring the way his cum mixes with your juices, spilling out of you. He starts with licking a stripe up your slit, and the image of his cum on his own tongue will never leave your brain, and causes your walls to tighten before he even puts a finger inside. He swallows, and goes back to licking into your hole, one hand absentmindedly rolling your clit in between his fingers as the other one squeezes your thigh. He moves them down from your clit to press into your hole, mouth instead focusing on your clit.

“Fuck, Jason!” He looks up at you, puppy dog eyes somehow turning you on more than you already were. He holds eye contact with you as he presses a third finger into you, curving to press against your sweet spot. You tangle a hand into his damp curls, pressing him onto your cunt.

Your walls tighten around his fingers, and he puts all of his effort into sucking and lapping at your clit. He hums on the bud, sending vibrations through your core. When you approach the edge, he starts licking at it instead, flicking the muscle back and forth. He talks into your pussy, praises for you being drowned in the flesh.

He lifts his head up for a gasping breath, still moving his fingers inside of you and quickly muttering: “Cum for me,” before diving back in. You listened, one last touch of your clit sending you over the edge. As you cum, Jason laps up the liquid that had leaked out of you over the night, flattening his tongue against your skin as he collects the last he can without a towel.

You shudder as he sits up, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your stomach before getting up from the bed. A moment of panic comes over you before-

“Are your washclothes still in the same place?” He asks softly. You nod at him, feeling too fucked out to speak, and watch him leave your bedroom.

After 30 seconds, he returns with a damp washcloth, and settles back in between your legs to wipe off your legs, pressing kisses on your inner thighs. As he moves up to your overstimulated cunt, he reaches for your hand. When the cloth passes over your sensitive spots, you squeeze his hand. After a few minutes of tender silence, he returns to your side, head on the pillow next to you.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“Hi,” you giggle back. After a brief pause, you continue: “I'm sorry. I was inconsiderate. When we broke up. I know what you do is important, and people need you-”

You're cut off by a kiss. “No. I needed to communicate more. And either way, it doesn't matter.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, “This is a fresh start,” he takes a breath in. “But really, I love you so much.”

You giggle, which seems to confuse him. Through your laugh, you attempt to speak- “Would you say- most ardently?” He rolls his eyes at the reference to his favorite book, but still leans in to press a peck to your lips.

“I love you most ardently,” he smiles at you.

“Good.”

[shrike-fic]

inexperienced reader x 'i secretly play the flute thinking about you (respectfully)' hozier?

Sorry this took so long yall, I’m constantly busy with…….. interesting stuff. Hope you enjoy :)

⭐️ Hozier zerkin it ⭐️

Warnings: smut pure smut

—————————————————

Andrew got home late into the night after one of your bar excursions. His head was swirling with cheap beer and whiskey laced memories of just a few hours ago, going over what happened as to maybe have some sort of recollection of any of it in the morning. Thoughts of you dancing together, taking shots together, laughing together plagued him as he swayed through the house.

Briefly grinning to himself at this secret admiration for you, he’s taking his coat off and practically ripping his shoes off after he gets into his room. As much as he’d love to pass out on his worn in bed right then and there, he figures it’d be unhygienic to sleep in his bed with clothes that he’d been in all day. In his hazy mind, he stands up with a groan, grabs his shower towel and starts walking towards the house’s bathroom.

As Andrew prepares his shower and strips down, he can’t help but think of some things that you.. drunkenly confessed to him. You confided to him about some things that you may or may not (definitely have not) done. He was shocked of course, how could a girl like you not have men practically falling at your feet? Lighthearted teasing ensued between the two of you concerning who had done what and where and when, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around what you said.

He steps in, his feet hitting the cool tile, and his hand having a matching feeling pressed to his palm as he uses the wall to steady himself. Turning on the water, he melts into the much needed steady warm stream that was pouring over him.

God, how nice it would be if you were in there with him.

He knits his brows at the thought of that, face turning pink with nobody but the droplets on his skin and the shower head to witness it. He feels slightly guilty from this, with you being his closest friend thinking of you in this way seemed wrong. But some part of him knew that deep down thats what he really wanted. Desperately wanted. His head wasn’t getting any clearer the longer he spent in the shower, which made him feel dirty no matter how well he cleaned the whole of himself.

The longer he stayed in that shower, the longer that heat grew between his legs. He knew he was half-hard by now, his dick practically begging to be touched. He harshly sighed out, almost a scoff, and quickly turned the water to cold to maybe sober him up and get rid of some of these dirty thoughts. What was he, a teenager?

With his hair being scruffed up in a towel, and some boxers haphazardly thrown on, he made his way back into his room where he so desperately wanted to collapse in. He fell back into his bed, letting his legs kick up a bit at that motion. After laying there with his legs hanging off the bed, he decides to swing them up and under the covers where the rest of him follows. He rubs his face with both of his hands, knowing deep down how utterly screwed he is. You had just confessed a deeply personal secret to him, and he’s being plagued with all the things that he’d love to do to you.

Heaven knows the splash of cold water on himself didn’t work. It hardly sobered him up, but it did nothing to keep those deliciously hedonistic thoughts out of his head. So there he was, knees slightly bent with his stomach clenched and his hand working his stiff and leaking cock up and down. His head was tossed to the side of his pillow, thrown back with his knitted brows framing his strained face, and his clean pair of boxers somewhere in his messed up sheets.

His lips were parted, with wanton groans and quickened breath spilling out of it. Oh how he wished it was your hand instead of his. His breath hitched and let out a desperate noise at the thought of this, quickening his pace, moving his other hand to comb through his hair.

He wondered how your hand would feel. Softer and smaller than his, not as confident in your actions, yet still wanting to help please him the best you could. His thoughts raced from your hands, to your lips, to what you would taste like. How he’d kill to find all of this out; to experience all of you. His mouth falls open deeper, with his desperate noises becoming louder and needier the longer he stroked his leaking cock.

Pre cum was dribbled on his pale lower stomach, his hips slightly bucking into his thoroughly moving hand. Thumb rubbing up against the hot red tip of his cock provided the perfect amount of friction to get him so close to falling off that edge. His back arching and him twitching in his own hands, he could see stars in behind eyes and feel the knot in his stomach snap as he pumped himself those last few times.

One last cry, and Andrew was sloppily bucking his hips into his hand releasing his cum onto his stomach and fingers. He pumped himself through it, nearing to the point of overstimulation— he just couldn’t get enough of you. Finally he released his spent dick from his hand, and laid there with a mess all over himself. After catching his breath for a minute, he reached over to his nightstand and cleaned himself off with a tissue. Cursing himself lightly as to why he would bother to take a shower just to do this to himself directly afterward.

He wasn’t totally free of guilt after finishing to the thought of you, he just didn’t really know how to deal with it. The best solution he could come up with? Sleep it off. Which would be great, but who the hell is calling him at such a late time? He groggily reaches over to the nightstand to pick up his phone ready to grumble at whoever was calling him at an hour like this, only to realize it was your name at the top of his screen.

He answers the phone, feeling a bit more guilty than before.

“Hey.. ehm… are you alright? Why are you calling this late?”

“You were supposed to call me when you got home, I was worried you hadn’t made it or something” You say with a slight scolding voice.

“Ah I’m very sorry, I was.. in the shower.”

He cringes at himself and covers his eyes with his hand.

[goldfades]

could you write some Caitlin hc?

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─ CC²²

─ warnings | fluff, mention of arguing/VERY SLIGHT ANGST, best friends to lovers, just a bunch of yap... sorry in advance <3

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry @paigeszn @brynsreads @delicateray and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

i feel like caitlin just gives off childhood best friends to lovers + high school sweethearts, like you guys knew each your entire lives and were like super duper close

and then one day it kinda just like hit caitlin like SHE IS **IN LOVE** WITH YOU

she's definitely the first one to "catch feelings"

i use that term VERY loosely because both of you guys were idiots and didn't realize you'd loved each other the first time you met

but she's the first one to realize it

which i feel like would cause a slight rift between you two because up until that point, it was "platonic"

she just wouldn't know how to go about her feelings and it would just stress her out, so she just began to distance herself

and in the years you've known her SHE'S NEVER DONE THAT TO YOU, so obviously you notice

and you try and talk to her about it but she reassures you and tells you it's nothing, that she's just stressed about school

which you don't buy so you just keep bugging her about it, cause she's ur best friend ur not about to lose her!!

eventually you give up after realizing that maybe she just doesn't wanna be friends with you anymore, and after you didn't show up to her game, caitlin knew she FUCKED UP

so after the game, she goes to your house and tells you that she messed up

and you both go up to your room and talk about it, she's SO emotional and just stressed out but she pours everything out to you

and you're confused at first, caitlin likes YOU????

and when you hug her and tell her it's alright, that you liked her back, baby was taken aback cause she's like WHAT

she expected you to just be okay with it obviously but she never expected you to tell her you LIKED HER BACK????

it's just so cutesy rom-com-y and just... ADORABLE and sweet

RELATIONSHIP

queen of cuddles, oh my lord this woman is always on top of you

she doesn't really process her size sometimes cause she'll just lay on top of you and she forgets that she's literally 6ft with a bunch of muscles

you've almost died multiple times

she's super duper touchy all the 24/7 EXCEPT AT GAMES

pda is cute and all but not at games because she has to keep up an appearance and being overly touchy with your girlfriend at a game isn't exactly a great image

but she'll do it anywhere else!!!!!! but of course not too much cause again, the whole image thing

she loves taking pictures and videos to everything, her entire camera roll is just you and her atp

like vlogs GALORE to send to her family and stuff, because they adore you and her relationship!!!!

and obvs the team but they get rly sick and tired quicklu

"caitlin we get it u have an amazing healthy relationship" *attachment: 8 photos of you guys giving a thumbs down with frowns* "did we rly need 8 photos?" "yes!!!!!!!!"

and she vlogs everything, like every moment with you, she's got recorded

but those are usually very sacred to her, she doesn't show them to anyone and she hearts them so that she can look at them anytime she misses u :(

she loves showing you off on her instagram stories!!! but she gives everyone crumbs, like your back with her jersey and a cutesy little heart and you two holding hands

she has posts of you guys from high school still on instagram but she doesn't really post you a lot just because she wants to be professional

but whenever she can, SHE DOESSSS (like that whole 1yr post but with u.......)

you're at every single one of her important games!!!!! since yall have been together for so long, you guys make time for each other (ofc), she'll fly you out, pay for your hotels and everything

you're her number one supporter and fan!!!! oh my gosh

because she can't respond to weird comments, YOU def can

especially the ones that are like "i can def beat her in a 1v1" and it's just some random man

"most mens players at college level couldn't even beat her, i guarantee a random guy on tiktok could🤗" "you're 5'7, think again 💀"

caitlin just laughs at the comments but you will never let anyone shit talk your girlfriend????

she finds your protectiveness so endearing like it makes her fall more in love w you (if that's even possible?"

rom-com nights are like the ideal date night - caitlin cooks the food and you pick the movie, you guys cuddling on the couch as you eat and watch the movie is like every free saturday/sunday for yall

caitlin hates being away from you, she just wishes you could be with her 24/7

if she's away from you, expect 10000+ messages from her and 10 minute snapchat vlogs of her just at the gym while she speaks into the speakers quietly as if she's being followed (shes just dramatic)

some of the vlogs are just her in the hotel room very bored, trying to think of something to talk to u about and ITS SO CUTE

"so uh... i heard that squirrels can't burp. isn't that weird and like.... kinda sad? imagine living your whole life without being able to burp, i think i would die. speaking of that, i tried making your mom's cupcakes the other day, but i accidentally used salt instead of sugar! and that's exactly why i stick to cooking, baking is too damn hard. oh shit, kate is calling me, i gotta go but uh i hope you're having a great day. i miss you like crazy and can't wait until we're together again. i love you!"

yeah she's a yapper

she loves when you do her hair because i feel like she's more of a outfit person

so she would like if you braided her hair or like curled it or something, it makes her feel good and like pretty

the one time she curled her hair without you, she burned her arm and she swore she'd never again🫠

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[firemenenthusiast]

—“to love”

farleigh start x reader

summary: asking farleigh to let you go if loving you isn’t worth it

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, fluff

a/n: i couldn’t decide between angst and fluff and i haven’t posted fluff for a while so yall getting BOTH. also sorry if this is kinda boring and cheesy and dramatic (me fr) 😞✌🏻

the sound of water drops drumming against the window fills your ear, tapping away at each droplets of the pouring rain, taking you away from the realisation that it’s been raining since the sun slipped off the horizon. it must be cold outside, you imagine, with the loud heavy rain and thunders.

must be the complete contrast of how warm it is inside, especially the room you and farleigh share in this mansion given that you always kept the temperature toasty. farleigh always fussed about it too, saying that it’s too warm for him and insisted that if you’re gonna keep it that way, he’s gonna have to be shirtless in the room. wiping away another stray tear rolling down your right cheek, your lips curl in a quiver as you shut your eyes.

it’s almost hysterical how even in a space that warm and cozy, having yourself all wrapped up in his blanket and sitting by the window, you still feel all alone. you don’t get it. you have all these people around you, well, all the people downstairs partying away because it’s felix’s early Christmas party yet you still feeling left behind.

farleigh’s downstairs too, you believe he’s doing all the things he usually does when he’s in the party mood. maybe by now he’s already had too much to drink for, or he’s plopped down against the couch and counting the stars dancing around at the ceiling.

normally you would be snuggling by his side, holding his firm arm close to your body so some of his warmth could radiate against your skin, but it’s been months since you and farleigh had that kind of time together. now, it’s just routine quick kisses on the top of your head, before he’s out again to catch a smoke by the courtyard and disappearing all day long, even with you in the house.

feeling all the pent up confusion, mellow and slight anger settling down, you can’t help the small hiccups escaping your lips as your shoulders jerk at every sob. you can hear the muffled music from downstairs, and sounds of people cheering for whatever reason you could easily guess at. they’re typical, you would say, but what’s not typical is the distance you feel with farleigh, and how his behaviour as of late makes you feel worthless, and that the spark you felt when you first started dating has gone into a mere strike.

you know you should’ve just told him how you’re feeling. you know you could’ve just said that you hate the way he doesn’t kiss you anymore. you miss the feeling of his lips against yours, his soft ones cradling your lips that is enough to make you melt into the moment because farleigh is such a good kisser. you know how they say to communicate, but you wish it was that fucking easy.

because you hate having to beg for affection. you hate having to tell someone to love you, you hate having to teach someone that you desperately love to no end, how to love you properly. if you were really worth it, you wouldn’t have to do all that, would you ? if farleigh really loved you like you love him, he wouldn’t make you feel like this, all disregarded and unimportant. truth is, you almost made yourself believe that the relationship is a dead end, and that he’s gonna break the news to you anytime now. what’s the point anyways ? it’s not like he cares, does he ? he certainly didn’t when he left you feeling the worst after getting back your test marks and it was so awful that you cried. all he said was, and you quote, “just a test” before leaving you to go tanning with felix when he knew you studied all night long for weeks. he knew, because he was there, watching you flip through your notes desperately.

as you sit looking out through the window, your eyes trailing the fragile looking droplets of rainfall down the pane, drinking in your sobs that were frantic a few moments ago. you’ve spent the past couple of months just smiling away and comforting yourself that maybe he was just tired, and that he wasn’t feeling like wrapping his arms around you when you needed him the most. yet deep down, you know that it wasn’t supposed to be like that. he shouldn’t get to pick and choose just whenever the fuck he feels like having a relationship.

at this point you’ve made yourself believe that farleigh only keeps you around for the sake of having a girlfriend. you don’t think he wants to be a boyfriend alongside of that, nor he cares that he’s made you feel worthless with the fact that he hasn’t kissed you on the lips for weeks now. not sure if he even realises that, having made himself busy with all the cigarette breaks and hanging out with the group. sometimes you think that he goes on all that cigarette breaks just to get away from you. it’s funny because it’s not like you couldn’t stand the smoke, if anything you don’t care if he does it around you at all, as long as you get to be with him.

leaning deeper into the farleigh-scented blanket, the fuzzy material hugs you nicely making you feel a little comforted. you could hear the knob turning before the creaking of the old hinge of the door screeches your ear. quickly wiping the tears almost dripping off your chin, you suck in a shaky breath, bumpy from the sobs and the huge lump in your throat.

“hey babe, i didn’t see you downstairs. how long have you been here ?”

of course he didn’t even realise that you were never downstairs. eventually you get sick of the annoying music and lingering smell of alcohol on everyone. you hated how reckless everyone would be, just bumping against each other that sometimes someone gets pushed to the ground. you know because last time it had happened to you, and farleigh was nowhere to be found. he was probably doing a line at the corner of the room with his other friends but hey, at least he’s not cheating right ?

blinking away your tears, you could feel your eyes are already puffy from how much you were crying. the sniffles caught his attention, halting his movements on taking off his santa hat as he settles it down on the nightstand before carefully walking towards you.

“hey— hey, what’s wrong ?”

the huge flat of his palm finds its way against your back, slowly caressing the skin through your sweatshirt as he struggles to meet your eyes.

“baby,, c’mon—look at me, hey”

his deep voice soft, but nothing’s new as farleigh had never raised his voice at you, or yelled at you. he was always so sweet when talking to you, so when he started becoming so distant, of course you’d feel it.

slowly pulling your body into his embrace, his arms wrapping around your shoulder as you lean your head against his chest. the warmth radiating off his skin spreads across your body as the both of you just sit there, sheltering against each other’s body, seeking comfort and reassurance.

“what’s wrong ?” he’d ask for the second time, holding your jaw in his hands with his fingers cupped along your cheeks. his thumb caresses the soft skin of your tear stained cheeks before looking deep into your eyes, his beautiful brown hues piercing into your orbs.

you’re still silent, knowing that if you were to tell him all the doubts in your heart that you have of him, you’d just burst into tears again. instead, you just give him your biggest smile, praying that it doesn’t look so forced and that you’re about to cry again in his arms.

farleigh can’t help his own smile at seeing your cute face squished into his large hands, though it pains him seeing you like this. it physically pains him looking at you so broken, the puffiness of your eyes tells him that you’ve been crying a lot, yet he knows nothing of it, or the reason why. when he asks you again, coaxing an answer from you, you’d just shake your head.

“you know you can tell me anything, you’re my girlfriend” he coaxes, smoothing his palms down your hair, cradling your whole head in his hands

hearing the title he just called you jerks a new stream of tears down your cheeks almost immediately, as you shut your eyes and softly sob into his hands. seeing your reaction worries him, making him desperately pull you closer into his arms, trying to shield you from anything that may be fear in your eyes, and just protect you from being hurt, ever.

“just say it, farleigh” you manage to sob out, quirking his eyebrows into visible confusion.

“say ? say what ?” pulling away slightly to look at your face, your eyes busy counting the stray threads poking out the blanket

“— that you don’t love me anymore” letting out the words softly, you realise that you sounded so insecure and it’s just going to make him mad. but you know what you’ve been feeling, and it’s not you being insecure.

farleigh couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth as they leave him speechless. slowly pulling his arms away from you, he looks at you to try to find an explanation.

“what the fu— what are you talking about ?” it was ridiculous, what you just said. he hopes that there’s a better explanation for it seeing that your lips are quivering and you’re looking at him with knitted brows.

“all the cigarette breaks, leaving me in the middle of the night to go sleep on the couch, hanging out with felix all the time when im literally right in front of you, do you think im stupid—?“

“what— he’s my cousin !” he retaliates, thick eyebrows furrowed at your reasoning, thinking that it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“and im your girlfriend, farleigh. i don’t even wanna talk about how i was never downstairs tonight and you didn’t care enough to even realise !”

“you’re being absurd, there was a shitload of people” he’s leaning back against his heels, moving further from you as he looks at you in disbelief.

“i guess you don’t even care that we haven’t kissed in weeks”

your last words leaves him dumbfounded, having realised that he hasn’t felt the soft lips he’s so obsessed with on his for weeks now. it started for a couple of days when he was busy and overall just dealing with his own mental issues but only now had he realised that it’s been weeks. taking a few steps back, he’s now fully on his feet, with his arms crossed before moving a hand to rest on his jaw.

“you don’t have to love me if you don’t want to, farleigh” you mutter out softly, the volume only enough to register in his ears

you hear him scoff at the words as you turn to look at him, pacing around at the edge of the bed before snapping his head towards you

“i can’t believe this” you hear him mutter under his breath before tilting his head towards you

“you know, i try— sooo fucking hard to love you-“ he cocks his head to the side, eyes squinting in your direction. if you want to argue on the love in this relationship, he’s been meaning to fight back.

“i care so deeply about you, i pushed away my own issues, i struggle with my own being, those voices in my head—“ you’re looking at him, your whole body tense as you blink away the tears clinging onto your lashes

“all just so i can be with you, all so i can keep you safe with me, even if it means that im fucked up in the head—“

“farleigh—“

“i don’t know how do you want me to love you, because the only love i’ve ever felt was from my mom. even that they take away from me—“

“so i try, so fucking hard to love you, as best as i could. so for you to imply that it’s not enough—“ he scoffs once again, a pained laugh threatens to blow out of his mouth. looking up at him, his face contorts in what you could make out to be disappointment. or even disgust, with the way his lips bend into a frown. scanning your eyes across his sharp features, you wished you could take it all back so you wouldn’t have to see him looking at you like that. it isn’t hatred, or is it ? but you’d imagine how you’re pushing him through his limits.

“— that’s just fucking selfish. i don’t know what else do you want from me”

just as you’re about to open your mouth to say something, a loud thunder booms through the clouds, tearing the peace from the whole estate. the eardrums shattering sound horrifies the fear you have of thunder that you can’t help the scream piercing out of your mouth. you’re clutching tight at the material of the blanket, your head throbbing from the loud noise of the following rumbles from outside, the flashing of lightning accompanying the thunder that almost rips your heart of your chest, if it wasn’t already being ripped out by your cries.

immediately as he sees the flashing light before the thunder, like a natural reflex farleigh practically throws himself over to quickly wrap his arms around you and pull you into him. he knows how bad thunder fucks with your nerves and how much you hated being alone when there’s thunders outside. rubbing his hand against your arms, smoothing over your sweater, you hear him hush softly on top of your head as he pulls you closer to his chest by the side of your head.

he rests his chin against your hair while he gazes through the window. amidst all the chaos of the loud booming noises and car alarms going off outside, you found yourself fisting at his knitted sweater, clutching your fingers, in an attempt to be as close to him as possible, to feel safe. after all farleigh’s still your safe place. it’s not like you ever want to seek home in anybody else.

“im sorry” just as you hear him say these words you softly push him away to tilt your head towards his face. all those things he said, makes you feel like a shitty person. maybe you’re the one who didn’t care enough to see what he’s going through. maybe he’s right, you are selfish.

“why, um-“ you begin with a coarse voice, the lump in your throat still clinging onto the walls before you clear it

“why didn’t you say anything ?—“ moving your head to follow his eyes, the glossy brown pair struggling to look into yours.

“—do i not listen to you ever, farleigh ?” you struggle to find the right question for him, having no understanding for why he feels like he couldn’t say anything and instead, just left you hanging all these while.

he’s silent, eyebrows knitted as he looks up at you with a tear rolling down his cheek. the corners of his eyes red, he’s been struggling not to cry since you brought up the issue.

a shallow regret claws at the walls of your insides when you look at him, with tears down his pretty face. moving to sit on your heels, you peel the blanket off your shoulders to pull him into the warmth, both of you sitting underneath the fuzzy material

“im sorry“ the only same words he manages to let out, again

“farleigh i should’ve-“ just as you open your mouth he cuts you off

“no—”

“—im sorry that you feel like i don’t love you anymore” it’s only when he says this does he look into your eyes, his hands moving over your face to move the strands covering your eyes away.

“because i love you, so fucking much—“ farleigh inches over, hovering his forehead over yours that the tip of your noses bump into each other. you can feel his hot breath fanning against your skin, as he smooths his thumbs over your jaw, catching the stray tear falling over your waterline.

“all those stuff you said,, fuck i didn’t know it was fucked up—“

“im sorry i made you feel like that. i didn’t wanna drag you along with me. i didn’t wanna make you feel unsafe” his words pain you, knowing that he kept everything that was wrong to himself. somehow it angers you, the fact that he feels like he couldn’t come to you. does he think that you were gonna leave him if he did ?

“you know you can tell me anything, farleigh—“

“i know, i just,,” as he searches for words, a hiccup makes his shoulders jerk.

“i was afraid that-“ trailing his words off his lips, he tilts his head to suck in a deep breath, his shoulders shaky as you search into his tear stained face. you offer him the softest look you could give, letting him know that if you’re gonna be here until the sun comes up just talking, so be it.

“i didn’t want you to leave— i thought,, i thought if i ever said anything, you’d think im weak” his lips quiver as he utter the last of his words before a single tear spills over down his cheek. his hand reaches up to wipe over his nose, his slender fingers almost covering the entirety of his face.

you know how bad farleigh struggles with the way the cattons treat him, and how they always disregard it all if he even dare to bring it up. everyone seems to think they’re this untouchable perfectly wealthy family but you know how small farleigh feels sitting among them. if anyone spends as much time around them and farleigh, they’d also see how they’re treating him like an outsider while desperately trying to make him feel like family. but you didn’t know it was getting to him this badly. you didn’t know it fucks with him to the point that ut gets this bad. you could just imagine how hard he tried to conceal his own insecurities while having you around, trying to make you believe that everything was fine.

“i thought if i just kept quiet you wouldn’t notice” farleigh pushed his words out from the strings of sobs restraining him to speak as he finally breaks down from all the blocks of boulder that keeps being dropped on him, weighing him down

“im sorry—” now it’s your turn to say these two words to him, pulling him down towards you into a hug, your fingers sprawled out across his back, letting him rest his head in the crook of your neck as he cries.

“—im sorry that im too selfish to notice” you cant help but sob out into his shoulder, your hands pulling at the fabric on his back. he’s crummed up into you, as the both of you just sat there by the window, listening to the sounds of water droplets tapping at the glass.

as he pulls away, he moves so he could look into your eyes, your fingers cupping his jaw as it’s your turn to wipe his cheeks with your thumbs. trailing your eyes over each of his features, taking in every details on his face, from his long lashes to his tiny freckles. closing in the mere inches in between you, you place your lips against his delicately, kissing at his bottom lips. farleigh closes his eyes as he returns the kiss, soft and gentle, as you slowly move in a rhythm. it’s been so long since he last kissed you, and he’d only realise how much he misses sharing your warmths in a kiss, how much he misses just kissing away all the doubts you have deep within.

when you slowly pull away you feel his hands gripping on your waist as he moves forward to catch your lips again, into another kiss. he feels like it wasn’t enough for him, he wanted to stay like this forever if he could. caressing his jaw, you lean back into the kiss as you hear him hum and continue to move his lips against yours as if he never stopped kissing you since your first kiss.

pushing him away by his chest, you had to take a breath as soft giggles leave your lips looking at his swollen ones. both from crying, and also kissing you like he hasn’t for years. he can’t help but let out a few chuckles too, your pained smile radiates warmth off his heart, melting it all over again.

“teach me how to love you properly” he starts, pulling at the blanket to peel it off of him and placing it around you again.

knowing that farleigh barely ever felt love from his own family, let alone be shown how it actually is to be loved, it’s only logical that the things he did for you, and the love he showed you, was the only thing he knew of love. and to compare to the scraps he receives in this house, the love that farleigh has ever showed you was everything in this world for him, and probably beyond the kind of love he could ever imagined.

“i will”

you promise, as you’re willing to fix this over and over again knowing that you’d also be fixing him, who’s been broken since the day he was born. if anyone else leaves when the only thing he seeks for is love, let you be his shelter.

taglist: @flipsconhelado @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @inglourious-imagines @aracade

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 10

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: yall. I love this part. It’s all Azzy baby.

(Masterlist)

Cassian: I feel weird doing this

Cassian: it feels like an invasion of privacy

Rhys: just let me know, one way or the other, how she feels about Az

Rhys: it’s not really an invasion. They invited you.

Rhys: this way, if she doesn’t like him, we can help Az move on

Cassian: they’re grilling her about Az

Cassian: if she doesn’t like him she’s an incredible actress

Cassian: shit, the movie’s starting - talk later

-

You wake up sometime close to midnight, throat dry and in desperate need of water. You groan into your pillow, reaching for the glass on your nightstand only to not find it.

Cursing yourself for washing the dish and not replacing it, you push off the bed, not quite opening your eyes fully in the hopes of going back to sleep quickly.

You open your door, padding through the dark living room toward your kitchen. You grab a glass from the cabinet and open the fridge, filling your glass from the carafe.

Your legs start growing cold in the night air as you slide the pitcher back in, closing the door with your hip as you walk back to your room, only to stop short at a phone screen lighting up the living room.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, sitting on the couch at Azriel’s feet. He bends his legs, pulling his feet towards him to let you sit down.

He looked incredibly cozy - he was wrapped up in a massive blanket that showed the night sky, his tiny stuffed bat was perched on his chest. He locks his phone, putting it on the coffee table, giving you his full attention.

“Rhys and his dad were arguing over the phone, and those fights can last ages. I wanted to give him some privacy.”

To accent his point, you can hear muffled shouting through the wall, Rhys’s anger permeating the wall between you two.

“And to be somewhere more quiet.”

He pauses, then looks at you, hazel eyes glowing in the darkness, “I’m sorry, I should go, I kind of auto-piloted over here-“

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine,” you say, nestling into the couch.

“Does he have a name?”

He knits his brows at your question, until he follows your eyes to the bat in his arms.

“Uh, no, he doesn’t.”

“That’s a shame,” your gaze lingers on the bat as Azriel sits up. You two fall into a peaceful quiet, until he tells you, voice soft, “I uh - Cassian got me this plushie. When we were kids, my uh step-brothers lit my hands on fire.”

You turn to him, and he’s not sure if it’s how big your eyes are peering at him, or the way your hair is mused with sleep, or just how small and vulnerable you look, but he continues.

“Cassian bought it for me when I was in the hospital. He didn’t have much money, but with his last damn dime he bought me this stuffed bat.”

He looks at it, the thing that has brought him such comfort from such a horrifying experience. It was worn, its color inconsistent across the fabric from where his hands and arms have constantly held onto it.

“Sometimes in my dreams I’m that kid again, and they’re pouring the gasoline on my hands again. But the - the bat helps.”

Hence why he brought it over, you think.

He keeps talking, unsure why. “The bat can also be warmed up and it helps when my hands hurt.”

“Do they hurt now?”

“A little,” he tells you.

“May I?” You nod towards his hands, and he can’t hide the shock on his face at your question.

He’s never had anyone ask. Everything about this is so new. For someone to let him come to them when he was comfortable, instead of feeling entitled to his trauma.

He reaches his hands out to you, placing them gently in your hands. Your hands are cold, but soft. Your thumbs begin stroking softly, working their way into the muscle, and he moans at the sensation.

His cheeks redden, but you continue your task at hand, rubbing into his hands, soothing the dull ache that always accompanies them.

He almost misses your words, too focused on the way your fingers feel.

“I wish the world had been kinder to you.”

You don’t look up, your eyes focused on his hands as you continue your work.

“But at least you had Cassian and Rhys to be there. I know it doesn’t stop what happened, but at least you weren’t alone.”

His lips part, and his fingers twitch, the urge to wrap yours in his stronger with your kind words.

But he doesn’t, not yet. He lets you continue your work, massaging his hands, and a comfortable silence settles over both of you.

He shifts his legs as you turn to face toward him, and he cages you in with his legs. He pushes forward a bit, resting his forehead on yours as you continue massaging his hands.

“Was it hard? Having to let your hands heal?”

“Mm, yes. It was a pain, especially having to relearn everything. I dropped so many cups and plates because my grip would just give out.”

You’re quiet as you let him ruminate on old memories, your touch making him feel so calm. He feels so far away from that boy who had to learn how to grasp doorknobs, to put on socks, to hold a brush.

He thinks about those months and how Cassian and Rhys’s love carried him through those years. How they helped rebandage his hands every day, how they would massage his hands, how they would ensure he did his daily exercises.

They were the most important people in his life, but maybe you’ve wiggled your way into getting that descriptor too.

It’s quiet in your apartment, the only noise the humming from your throat.

“What are you humming?”

You squint your eyes, trying to remember the name of it. “It’s by Mitski, I think.”

He pulls his right from your grasp, pulling his phone back out, along with a pair of headphones. He opens the Spotify app on his phone, typing in ‘Mitski’ into the search bar.

“Oh yeah, it’s that one,” you point at the screen, as he plugs in the headphones, offering one to you. You move closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder to be close enough to share the headphones.

You nestle it into your ear, the soft sounds of “My Love Mine All Mine” playing into the earbuds that connect the two of you.

Azriel looks down at you, how soft and content you look. He wraps an arm around you, holding you to him as he moves his legs underneath you, stretching them out against the sofa. His hold on you causes you to shift with him, your body half on his, an arm around his waist as your face is buried into his neck.

Your eyes grow heavier, the soft melody of Mitski’s voice and Azriel’s fingers stroking through your hair lulling you back to sleep

-

Cassian opens the door to his room, ready to head out for this godforsaken 8 AM class he had to sign up for. He’s heading towards the kitchen to grab whatever fruit you two have, he thinks there’s either a banana or an orange, when he stops in his doorway.

You and Azriel are asleep on the couch. You’re on top of Azriel, your face tucked between his chest and the couch. Cassian looks closer and sees that your arm is wrapped around the bat plushie he bought Azriel all those years ago. Azriel’s arms are wrapped around you loosely, keeping you in place.

He laughs at the pair of headphones that are wrapped between the two of you, tangled amidst arms and hair, music still playing from them.

He pulls his phone out, snapping a quick photo. He opens his messages, searching for the chat entitled they’re idiots, which included Rhys, Mor, and Feyre, and sends the photo. He grabs an orange, heading to the door trying to be as silent as possible.

As he reaches for the doorknob as his phone starts vibrating with new messages.

Feyre: they look so cute tho 🥰

Feyre: omg Cass wake her up

Feyre: she has class early today!!

Rhys: and risk the wrath of Azriel in the morning?

Rhys: don’t do it

Rhys: he’s a cranky bastard in the morning

Cassian types out a response, shutting the door softly behind him.

Cassian: maybe he won’t be today

[pygmi-cygni]

Besamé

jake lockley x reader (sort of a continuation of Clever Boy bc yall wanted jake)

read part 1 here (or don't it doesn't matter)

I'm not gonna translate the title or the pet names because if you're reading this you've read enough oscar isaac characters and jake lockley fics to understand basic romantic spanish, let's be so fr

Things had progressed smoothly in your budding relationship. Marc and Steven made up, all qualms about your affection gone. Jake, still hiding, had peeked out and you'd smothered him as well.

It was hard not to love you and Jake punched himself for doubting it. Of course you were perfect.

That morning was soft and warm, and he was up with the sun making breakfast. As much as he loved early morning cuddles, his stomach was so loud he worried you'd rouse.

Jake whistled quietly as he poured himself a mug of coffee, making sure to set yours by the coffeepot for after you ate. If you drank coffee before food you'd get a wicked stomachache.

Grinning, he nudged open the door tosee you rubbing your face sleepily, blinking in the light.

"Hi," you croaked, smiling blearily. Jake beamed, peppering your face in kisses. You smelled like sleep - still soft and comforting. Snorting, you pushed away his ticklish affection and made grabby hands towards his coffee.

"Yours is in the kitchen, my love," he said, "I made food."

Morning grogginess gone, you scampered after him, the smell of pancakes in the air. Jake watched lovingly as you ate, perusing the newspaper atop Steven's precariously balanced library.

"You've grown it out," you noted, gesturing to his upper lip. The mustache he'd been begging Marc and Steven to let him keep was blossoming. Steven was the only apprehensive one, frowning at the facial hair.

It itches, he grumbled from the headspace.

Jake waggled his eyebrows suggestively and blew you a kiss. "Sexy, ay, amor?"

You scrunched your nose and giggled. Then, realizing the time, you rushed up and tossed your napkin in the trash. "Gotta go, baby, sorry, I forgot I had an early morning!" You pressed a kiss to his cheek and hurried into the shower.

"Thanks for the food," you called over your shoulder. You grinned to yourself as you washed the suds from your body.

Marc and Steven had planned a little game on the evenings that Jake was asleep. See, both of them had officially asked you out and gone on dates, yada yada. Except for Jake. He, though arguably the most passionate, had yet to 'ask you out.' He was riding on the coattails of Steven's proposal and Marc's efforts, so to speak.

Not fair, really, Steven had mused to you, seeing as he didn't have to do anything for you to fall in love.

What are you proposing? You'd asked cheekily. He sniffed and turned away.

I don't think you should be all lovey with him until he actually works for it.

You had laughed. That's like taking candy from a baby. Poor Jake was too sweet for you to tease him like that.

Marc had chimed in. Yeah, well how come he gets a fat kiss every evening and it took you a month to give me a little peck?

That shut you up.

So, you'd schemed until a plan had been formulated. No kissing on the mouth, no touches, no nothing until Jake asked you on a proper date. Proper, Steven emphasized, not takeaway on the sofa.

Running a brush through your wet hair, you smiled at Jake and moved towards the door. Like clockwork, he leaned in for a kiss. You dodged his mouth and pressed two quick pecks to his nose. One for Marc, one for Steven. Jake awaited the third kiss bestowed to him, but you merely squeezed his hand and disappeared out the door.

Jake stood in the foyer, blinking in shock.

The dishtowel hung limply from his hands, grip loose with confusion.

"Que?" He murmured to himself, immediately raking his hand through his hair. You'd never done that...had he missed something?

Were you mad? You'd smiled at him, he'd made you breakfast, you laughed at his joke...was it the mustache? Ay, he thought you liked it!

Marc and Steven were awake but oddly silent. Steven had been with your last night, were you mad at him? No...no. Cheek kisses were for the other two, he always got the mouth. Cheek, mouth, cheek. One two three. Except now...only two?

While he fretted, Jake began to clean the kitchen. He'd never felt insecure with you. Should he? No. You were nice, you liked him, you always gave him a kiss before work. You had yesterday; he'd felt it from back in the headspace. Why not today?

Beso...he mourned quietly, absently running his fingers over his lips. Maybe it was the mustache. He'd shave it off, right now. That'd make Steven feel better, if not you. Jake tugged on his hair, eyes wide and worried.

"Ay, Marc," he hissed into the mirror, fumbling for his razor. "What's going on with her, huh? Yesterday was okay, si, then ¡Y entonce! I get nothing! Estoy confundido!"

Marc yawned lazily, smirking in the reflection. Jake's hand paused above his chin, and he narrowed his eyes. "What's that face for, eh? Why are you smirking like that?" His headmate shrugged, feigning disinterest.

Well, you know, he mentioned drolly. Jake dropped the razor and folded his arms.

"No, malo, I don't." Something was up. Steven was watching, eyebrows up to his hairline, but Jake didn't trust him either.

Marc was grinning now. You're not their boyfriend, Jake.

He gaped into the mirror, hot anger flashing in his veins. "Ay, that's not true! Maldito malo, how dare you say that! I love them just as much as any of you bastards-"

How many dates have you gone on? Steven piped up from the back, grinning cheekily. Jake opened his mouth but stopped.

Dios...he hadn't taken you on a date?

"Wait, wait," he muttered, chin in hand. That couldn't be right, you spent time with him almost every day. You'd gone on drives and to the park and the library...

"Oh my God," he breathed. "Ay, this is-" he fisted his hair in frustration, then whirled to glare at his friends.

"No, it can't be that! Yesterday I still didn't date them and they gave me a kiss, right smack on the lips! You're full of shit, Spector, that can't be it."

He wiped the shaving foam from his face and slammed the bathroom door, ignoring Steven's giggles. Bullshit. You wanted a date? He would take you on a date, he'd take you on a date every day for the rest of your life if you wanted-

Share them with us, Steven protested at the idea. Jake bared his teeth in the reflection of his phone.

"Fat chance," he seethed. He'd get that kiss back.

Work had been a hassle. You scrubbed a hand over your face before sighing and making your way to the bus stop. It was a grey evening, and would start drizzling soon. Shivering, you walked faster, imagining the comforting warmth of your shared flat.

You smiled, thinking of Jake. Hopefully the boys weren't being too mean - it was a joke, after all.

Speak of the devil, a familiar black car was parked along the curb, and you paused.

"Jake?" You stepped up to the window and peered inside. Jake's glittering eyes grinned back at you. His hat was perched cockily atop his moussed curls and he unlocked the door.

You gleefully ducked inside, grateful to be out of the rain. He sat idly, tapping his fingers on his thighs while you buckled up, fluffing your hair in the mirror and looking over. He wasn't looking at you, peering with mild interest at the traffic outside.

"What's that pout for," you teased. "Oh, you've shaved!" You leaned over to inspect his smooth chin, but he angled away.

Huh?

You sat, gingerly placing your hand on his arm. Marc had spilled the beans, it seemed. The rain beat on the windows, pattering loudly in the silence.

Game on.

You adjusted yourself in your seat, folding your legs away from him. Without any real estate to rest his hand on, Jake fidgeted near the gearshift. He so badly wanted to reach out and burrow his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs, but he couldn't. Not yours to touch, Marc taunted.

Eyes steely, Jake peeled out of the parking lot and into the main road, humming to himself. This was so wrong. His lips tingled from neglect, and he was twitching to repress his need to kiss you all over. The soft music on the radio had you bobbing your head and tapping your fingers. He wanted to grab your hand and swing along like a seated waltz.

Nope. Not yet.

When Jake pulled up in front of your favorite Thai place, you frowned.

"Wh-"

His hand was on your jaw and his breath tickled your ear. "I'll take you on a date," he growled, "but after this, you better knock it off." His tone was harsh but his grip gentle, rubbing a slow circle beneath your ear. You met his eyes innocently.

"Knock what off?"

He made a sound low in his throat and tore away, stalking around the car to throw your door open.

"What a gentleman," you cooed, pecking his jaw. He scowled, mentally urging your lips to gravitate towards his supple pout. No cigar; you grabbed his hand and led him inside.

It was warm and smelled divine, so you settled in with a smile. Jake gave a small smirk in return, foot bumping yours under the table. Your nose scrunched adorably and you bopped him right back. The two of you went back and forth, smothering giggles until the waiter took your order.

The quiet was pleasant this time, the stiffness having lifted in the spirit of warm food. As you ate and laughed, Jake's hand found his way to yours across the table.

"I'm sorry, corazon," he said, eyes wide and genuine. Your heart cracked a little bit, and you felt the tiniest bit of guilt. He looked like a kicked puppy, all begging and earnest. Caressing his palm, you squeezed back.

"Te amo," you whispered, poking him with your chopsticks. Jake sighed with relief, a crooked smile on his face. See, you bastard fools? He gloated to his headmates, 'not their boyfriend my ass.' Pendejos, both of you.

You saw the smirk on his face and cocked your head. "Don't be mean," you chastised playfully, "it's not their fault you didn't have the balls to ask me out."

Jake sputtered around his food, looking at you with bewilderment. Cackling, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, smiling against his lips. He tasted warm and familiar, like home. Stupid game, you lamented, forcing me to miss out on this.

He pulled you to his side of the booth, trailing down your neck and back up to your soft lips. Your hair was soft against his cheek and he beamed.

His rough hands cupped your chin lovingly, eyes sparkling with joy. You're so pretty, he fawned, kissing you again. A blush spread over your cheeks and you hid in his neck. he could feel your smile against his skin, and he pulled you back up for another round.

"Besame, por favor," he murmured, licking gently into your mouth. your hands fisted gently in his shirt, and he intertwined your fingers gently. Pulling back, you nudged his nose with yours.

"Take me home, lover boy."

yay! all the boys can be happy now.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@silvernight-m - Jake's part, as requested! :)

@krakenkitty

@twwcs

@ominoose

comment to join the taglist

[ieatedyourcrayons]

Askin for a Jeff the Killer x Male!Reader fic where the reader mirrors Jeff's personality quite a bit, im talkin cocky bastard with a joker laugh type shit, and at first he DESPISES the reader but quickly turns into a touble trouble duo :3 🔪❤🔪

Got you! hopefully you like it! kinda went on a yap session

no trigger warnings

Double trouble. Jeff the killer x male!reader

You were new to the slenderman mansion. Your cocky and straightforward demeanor fit right in with the others that lurked in the walls of the manor. Your blunt responses and manic behaviors pushed the infamous jeffery woods away from you.

Jeff couldn’t stand having someone like him around, he took offense to it, Does he think he’s better then me or something? is something Jeff thought everytime you opened your mouth.

Jeff didn’t bother giving you a chance at introducing yourself to him nor did he care for your introduction. He went out of his way to avoid you until one time you guys both wandered into the kitchen at 3:46 A.M.

You walk in the kitchen with the hopes of finding something to eat, you’ve been up playing your games all night, not caring to sleep, Jeff was doing the same, neither of you knowing.

As you’re rummaging through the fridge, a sudden voice startles you, causing you to jump, hitting your head on the fridge. “Oh it’s you.” Jeff mutters rudely as he grabs a bowl out the cabinet.

“what’s your problem?” you ask as you hold the spot on your head that you hit, your voice rough from the lack of talking and water

“My problem?” he scoffs, “what’s your problem?” He adds with a rude tone

“what are you even talking about?” you ask with genuine confusion as your stare at him dumbfounded.

“Oh cmon. don’t act like that, you think you’re better then me, you may have a pretty face but you’ll never be better then me dude” Jeff says rudely, his jealousy leaking through every word.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think i’m better than you. Two people can have similar personalities ya’know? You haven’t even given me a chance and I could care less about being you” You spit back , saying the “being you” with a mocking tone as you push your hair out of your face.

Jeff stands with an offended look on his face , finding himself unable to say anything realizing you’re right.. he’s overreacting and he really hasn’t given you a chance. Jeff’s expression quickly falls off his face and is replaced with embarrassment.

“…You’re right. i’m sorry bro i don’t know why i’m like this… How are you?” Jeff says with a sigh, hoping that you won’t hold this against him.

You sigh, not wanting to keep this tension between yall any longer. “You’re good, and i’m fine, i’ve just been on the game all night.. how about you?” You ask before turning back into the fridge and grabbing some left overs and bringing it to the microwave.

Relief washes over Jeff after you respond. “Really? same, i’ve been trying to beat elden ring for like 15 hours!” He laughs as he grabs some cereal and pours it in his bowl.

“Dude really? I can help you. i’m like.. a pro at elden ring” you laugh back before the microwave beeps, signaling your food is done. You quickly open the door to the microwave, stoping the beeping , and taking out your food.

“Yo will you actually help? I need it bad” He says, A hint of amusement behind his words. “Yeah dude, gotta help a brother out” you respond with a laugh before bringing a spoon full of your food to your mouth.

“Yes! thank you! oh uhm, what’s your name?” Jeff says hesitantly as he picks his bowl up and grabs a spoon, ready to go to his room.

“it’s y/n, and i know your name, jeffery” you tease as you two begin walking to his room, ready to put Jeff’s elden ring skills to shame.

Jeff jokingly cringes at your use of his full name. You guys enter jeff’s room, his walls littered with posters of movies and metal bands, clothes and other things scattered on his grey floor, the walls a dark red with led lights wrapping the ceiling boards.

You look around the room in admiration, “yo this is a vibe” you stare before shoving a spoon full of you food into you mouth “Fanks” jeff says with a mouthful of cereal in his mouth.

Eventually you two settle on the floor infront of jeff’s small monitor with an xbox controller on the floor infront of it. “Uh.. do you not have a desk?” you ask confused “eh i broke it” Jeff shrugs. You turn and look at him with a confused but amused expression before saying “understandable” with a shrug as you turn your attention to the screen.

———————————————————————————

You and jeff bond over Elden ring and shared trauma , Jeff realizing he would’ve missed out big time if he never gave you a chance. Now you two are inseparable and cause havoc in the manor, terrorizing everyone and going on missions together.

[h0nkch0c0late]

Please Don't Go

Jack Mercer x Reader

Summary: you had known Jack for years, and even gotten into a relationship. When the two of you join his brothers for their mother's funeral, you weren't expecting this outcome.

WARNING(S): Four Brothers spoilers, major character death, angst, swearing.

It had happened so fast.

While Angel and Bobby were busy interrogating Jeremiah, a knock was heard at the front door.

Curious, you had followed Jack to see who had knocked, as it was unusual for the Mercer household.

The two of you were met with a masked man, insulting Evelyn and throwing a snowball at Jack's face before beginning to walk away.

You should have stopped him. Should've grabbed his arm and told him it wasn't worth it. Lead him back to the couch to just forget about it.

Instead, you watched as he ran out towards the masked guy, anger raging through him not only because of the insult of his mom, but the snowball as well.

As you saw the man begin to pull out a gun, you found yourself running, by no volition of your own.

You heard someone calling yours and Jack's names, it was most likely Bobby. But you didn't care enough to think about it.

As you got closer, a gunshot rang out. And then another. And then multiple more.

You didn't know if you were one of the ones who got shot, and hell, maybe you were. But your focus was on your boyfriend, bleeding out and laying in the snow, calling out to you and Bobby with a rack of sobs.

You stumbled towards him, facing your back towards the shooters as if that would help Jack stay alive, though you knew better.

Your ears began to ring, the gunshots blurred with the yells, your heart thumping hard in your chest.

Your hands found themselves trying to cover his wounds as he grabbed onto you for dear life. He was scared, and not just for himself anymore.

You were actively putting yourself in danger. He was trying to get you to lay low or to find a spot in which they wouldn't be able to hit you, but that distant look in your eyes told him you weren't listening.

Almost unconsciously, you began to mumble comforting words to him. Whether it was really for yourself, him, or both of you, you didn't know.

One shot.

Two shots.

And suddenly, none.

Bobby, Angel, and Jeremiah made their way to the two of you, Bobby holding onto Jack who was now laying in your lap.

You couldn't tell what the boys were saying, but the yells were obvious. They were trying to have someone call 911.

"Please don't go." You found yourself begging, eyes downcast and cloudy as you looked down at Jack, one of your hands going through his hair in a comforting manner like you always had.

His eyes greeted yours, a smile on his face as blood poured from his throat.

"Shit, she's hit too!" Angel shouted as he noticed that the pooling blood wasn't just from Jack.

You didn't care, all that mattered to you was keeping the boy in your arms alive. But it was too late, he was gone. His skin cold against your own as your hand kept caressing his hair in that gentle, comforting way.

Darkness began to consume your sight, the adrenaline beginning to wear off as the gunshot wounds took over.

Bobby was holding your face in his hands as you felt yourself get weaker, "now don't you die on me too, ya hear?!" He cried, he was desperate. He had already lost his mom, and now his brother. He couldn't lose you too.

"Sorry, Bobby." You grinned with what little strength you had left, just to sass the man in front of you before death took a hold of you.

"No, don't you do that shit to me. Don't you do that shit!-"

That was the last thing you heard before you collapsed.

----------------------------------------------------------

Angst almost immediately for a new character? Who AM I? haha, anyway. Finally got some motivation to write, unsure if it'll stick though. Love yall <3

@frostymooxnlight cuz you asked to be tagged, lovely!

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Part Seven: "Pour Over" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: (Then) Between postpartum blues and her baby's needy coos, Reader's having a hard time adjusting to her new life. But she quickly learns that sometimes you get by with a little help from your friends. — (Now) After dealing with her fussy child all night, the last thing Reader wants is a complicated day at work. Luckily for her, a certain nurse knows just how to make her day a little easier.

Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 1,640

Content Warning: postpartum talk, anxiety talk, mentions of vomit (nothing in detail though), very mild swearing, mild hospital talk, mentions of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: yall i am so so so sorry that this took me so long to finish, more on this later but rn all i have to say is the world's biggest apology 😭

Originally Written: 01/06/2024 through 01/23/2024 (i'm so sorry)

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!

[ Then, February of 1988 ]

At this point, you weren't sure how you hadn't died from sleep deprivation.

It had been a whole two weeks since the baby was born, and you were pretty sure you hadn't slept a wink since. One sleepless night had turned into two, and well… now you couldn't remember the last time you had slept.

The clock on the wall told you it was nearing three in the morning, the blackness outside the windows further proving that fact. The baby was once again crying, and no amount of midnight feedings or diaper changes or rocking her in the rocking chair had done the trick. You were warned about colic, but nothing could've prepared you for what it would be like in real time.

Another new nightly ritual was a tired Joyce stumbling into your bedroom, eyes heavy and feet shuffling. You knew exactly what she had in mind, but your Byers genes were far too stubborn to accept her offer.

“Mom, we're fine,” you insisted from your spot in the rocking chair. But even you knew that to the naked eye, you surely didn't look fine. Unwashed hair, blanket tossed messily over your lap, purple spots nearly black underneath your eyes.

Joyce just sighed from her spot in the doorway. “Honey, you are clearly not fine. Don't take this the wrong way but you're a mess.” The comment almost hurt you, though you supposed you appreciated your mother's honesty.

“I'll be okay,” you insisted. “It's not my first sleepless night.”

She moved to sit on the edge of your bed, across from the newly placed rocking chair and crib. “That's the problem, honey. You need sleep. You can't properly be there for her if you-”

“I can't leave her.”

“Don't get enough sleep and-”

“Mom, I can't-”

“You need to eat something too, honey. I mean, when was the last time you-”

“Mom!” you raised your voice this time, effectively cutting her off. “I cannot leave this baby.”

Joyce let out a long sigh, running a hand through her already messy hair. “If you don't take proper care of yourself, exhaustion is gonna hit you like a freight train. Then what?”

You supposed she might be right. But still, her comments couldn't make you see past your postpartum anxiety, worst case scenarios running rampant through your mind.

“What if something happens to her while I'm asleep?” you asked, voice weak. “Or what if she thinks I left her, just like…” you couldn't finish the statement before tears began to prick your eyes.

“Y/N, you know that me and Will would never let anything happen to this baby.” You could tell by her tone that she was being genuine, though both of you knew her words were useless when it came to your anxiety. “We love both of you. We would never let anything happen to her.”

Tears pricked your eyes as your panicked thoughts ran rampant. “What about Dad?”

She nearly fell off the bed after hearing your question. “Dad? What does Lonnie have to do with-”

“I keep having this weird feeling in my gut that Dad is gonna try something with her,” you explained, tears fully soaking your cheeks now. “Like he's going to try and take her from me.”

“I would never let that happen.” Joyce's words weren't a suggestion. She said them with such finality that you were tempted to believe her. “Lonnie walked out of here seven years ago. He hasn't gotten in here yet and I will make damn sure he doesn't get in now.”

Your heart was racing a million beats a minute. You weren't really sure why—other than postpartum anxiety—that Lonnie had been on your mind. But just the thought of him sent shivers up your spine and tears down your face.

Clinging harder to the bundle in your arms, careful not to hurt her but still holding her closer, you rocked gently in the chair in hopes of calming both yourself and the baby. Her cries had yet to subside, if anything they'd just grown louder.

“Mom, I'm so scared,” you finally broke. Even you could hear the weakness, the brokenness, the defeat in your voice. “What if I'm doing this all wrong?”

Joyce stood again, with that same finality as her words from earlier. “I'm not here to tell you how to raise your baby. You're the mother now and you know what's best for you and her,” she started, the words stern but gentle. “But I am here to give you advice as a mother myself. Babies can sense things. Maybe she's upset because you're upset.”

And with that, Joyce was stepping toward the door, reaching for knob, and then-

“Okay.” The word came out as defeated as you felt. “I'll let you have her just long enough for me to shower and eat something.”

She turned to face you with a small smile, not one of smugness or one of someone proving a point, but one that showed you that she was simply just glad to help you out. She left a soft kiss on your forehead as she took the baby from your arms, quickly taking your place in the rocking chair as you headed over to your dresser.

“Mom?”

Her smile went a little sideways as she looked up from the baby to you. “Yeah?”

“I love you. Don't ever forget that, okay?”

With a small nod, Joyce replied, “I won't. Don't you forget that I ditto.” A phrase that had been around since you were little. You weren't sure who started it, but in this moment you were thankful for it, five letters meaning the absolute world to you.

You walked over, leaving a peck to the prickly hairs you'd been seeing so much of these days, warmth filling the entire expanse of your body. “I love you, bub.”

“I'm sure she dittos you too, honey.”

[ Now, January of 1992 ]

A loud yawn sounded from the other side of the counter, breaking you from your own mess of sleepy thoughts. “Me too,” you chuckled as you looked up, a yawn slipping between your own lips. Dark hair and round glasses met you, purple spots thick underneath his eyes. “You look about as tired as I feel.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn't have known it if you hadn't mentioned it,” he said. A crease formed between your brows as you wondered what he meant. “You look as nice as you always do.”

He set a new record for how quickly he'd ever made butterflies go off inside you. “Careful, Doc, or I'll think you're flirting with me,” you said through the crimson blush that had started to appear on your cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said sarcastically, “Must be the sleep deprivation from the double I just pulled.”

You cringed at his words, knowing all too well what that felt like. “I know the feeling. I might as well have pulled my own double after staying up all night with my dau-”

The word got caught in your throat as you realized what you were about to say. “Dog,” you covered quickly, hoping your lie flew over Steve's head.

On the outside, you were hoping to appear calm and cool. On the inside, you were face palming. You'd been sleep deprived many times before, considering you once had a baby on your hands who had colic from the day she was born. Not to mention being a mother made you miss sleep in many ways of its own. But you couldn't recall a time where you'd been so sleep deprived that you almost spilled your biggest secret to a practical stranger, much less a practical stranger who you were actively avoiding telling the secret to.

“I didn't know you had a dog,” Steve said with furrowed brows, his voice bringing you back to reality.

Even though you hated to lie to him, you were thankful that your job had given you the ability to think fast. “Yeah, she must've eaten something she wasn't supposed to. She was up all night throwing up.” The real story was that Mandy had snuck into the kitchen to eat the rest of her leftover Christmas candy after you told her not to, but Steve didn't have to know that.

“Plain rice helps.”

His reaction caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“Plain rice can help a dog's upset stomach,” he explained. “If it keeps happening though, you should definitely take her to a vet.”

Steve's suggestion was oddly sweet, and honestly tugged at your heartstrings a little bit. “Thank you for the tip. Out of curiosity though, how do you know about caring for a sick dog?”

His broad shoulders shrugged, and you tried not to drool at the sight of them. “I almost went to vet school. Boy, would that have made my dad mad. Not that med school has made him any less angry.” As if realizing he was rambling, an awkward chuckle slipped between his lips and he turned his attention to the menu. “You didn't ask. Anyway, what do you recommend?”

“Nice try,” you answered, rolling your eyes. “But for you, I recommend going home and getting some sleep.”

Steve chuckled, and the sound went straight to your belly. “Hey, you don't have to tell me twice. I just pulled a double and I have to be back on campus for classes in about five hours.”

Part of you wanted to tell him to just take the night off and get some rest. Another part of you wanted to drive him home yourself and tuck him in. “I do not envy you,” you giggled. “To answer your original question though, how does a strawberry smoothie sound?”

He met you with a closed-lip smile, one that had started to feel so comforting and oh so familiar these days. “That sounds perfect.”

So this is about a month late...

I want to apologize for being gone with no announcement or explanation. Lots of things have happened in the past couple weeks that have taken a severe toll on my mental health and I just haven't really had the time to write, much less the energy.

I am feeling a little better and I have talked to my boss about my hours so I'm hoping that'll help somewhat. I really miss giving you guys content and I miss interacting with you guys.

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well! ❤️

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @corrodedseraphine @manuosorioh @esoltis280 @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic

[wcbbfics]

WILDFLOWER (part 1)

summary - sophia and paige had been close friends for a long time but now they both have a secret. sophia is hiding something from paige about her past. and paige is hiding her real feelings for soph.

some suggestive content. word count 1.6k

paige x uconn student

authors note: first fic please be nice. Hope you like it!

————————————————————————

“ok so boom” you hear kk yell at her phone, she’s been on live for 15 minutes dancing around with aubrey. she keeps reading the comments aloud and paige yells at her cause they usually have something to do with her.

paige and i are sitting in the kitchen eating chic fila. I glance up at her, her bright blue eyes are focused on her phone. i lean over to see what she’s looking at. she quickly turns her phone away and and doesn’t look at you.

paige stands up and walks over to the fridge she grabs out a white claw for you and opens it “here you go baby” she says to you sliding over the white claw. baby? paige only ever calls you pet name when she’s drunk. paige has been giving you butterfly’s every day since you guys met at azzis birthday party.

“can you get me a glass for this?” you ask because the uconn girls aren’t supposed to be drinking and you don’t want the live to see. paige goes to the cabinets and grabs a cup then she walks over to you and grabs the drink. her long hands flexed as she opened the can and poured it in.

You get up and follow paige as she walks over to the living room where kk, aubrey, and ice are all on the couch talking to kks phone. paige sits down in the only available seat left. and you stand there not know where to sit. you glance at paige as realization sparks in her eyes. she taps her inner thigh while holding eye contact with you. a smirk forming on her lips. you oblige and walk over to the chair and sit on paige’s thighs. you can feel her muscles flexing at your touch. but once you get comfortable paige’s body immediately relaxes into you.

————————-

paige’s pov

god the feeling of sophs body on your made you wish were by yourselves. soph hands you her drink and you take a long sip of it. she watching your throat bob as you sallow. you like you lips at the face she makes. she turns her face so her mouth is right by your ear

“i’m tired” she wines.

“are you sleeping over?” you aren’t even sure why you asked that as sleepover had become a daily thing this you too.

“if you want me too” she whispers into your ear.

kk yelps with excitement as aubrey and her start singing some song. they both stand up and start humming a tiktok dance song and doing the dance. kk sets her phone on the tv stand. she angles her phone so and you and sophia’s tangled up limbs are suddenly on the live. kk grabs her phone and turns it away from you guys. sophia turns to you a panic look on her face.

“paige they all saw that”

“hey its ok, maybe they finally stop thinking me and azzi are together” i say annoyed. having the whole internet always think me and my best friend are together is so infuriating and now azzi wants us to keep our distance.

kk explaining to the live that they need to go and everyone just stare at us. i feel soph shift in my lap and i instinctively grab her waist to try to help her relax. but she abruptly hope out of my lap. she start collecting all her things.

“hey wait soph, please don’t go” you jump up out of your seat and grab her arm pulling her into your room and closing the door.

“paige stop I need to go”

“no you don’t, soph. i’m sorry for saying that i just hate how the internet is always in my fucking business”

“i know paige but i just can’t handle you flirting with me”

“i’m sorry, but please don’t go.”

“paige im so tired”

“sleep here, i don’t want you driving tired” her face lights up and suddenly all i want to do is feel the warmth of her body on mine. i go to my dresser and pull out a uconn sweatshirt and some of my shorts. i hand them to her and walk out.

“hey yall need to leave” i say to my teammates “oooo, did yall make up” kk asks with a big smile on her face.

“yes, and she’s tired so please leave” they all get up with goofy grins on there faces.

“don’t have to much fun” kk yells over her shoulder as she closes my dorm room. i walk back into my room and close the door. soph is laying on my bed under the covers in my white uconn sweatshirt. “paige please turn off the light”

“yes ma” soon as the word left my mouth i knew it was a mistake. sophia gets off my bed and grabbed her backpack.

“soph im sorry it just came out.”

“i can’t handle this right now”

i walk over to where she’s standing and look at her. her big brown eyes looked so sad and all i wanted to down was hug her until she felt better. i glanced at her lips and i know she saw me do it. she throws her backpack to the ground and simultaneously puts her hands around my neck. her hands are so cold and soft. god i need her now. i moved my head forward and i could feel her hot breath on my lips.

“please let me help you feel better” as soon as the words left my mouth her lips were on mine. her lips were so soft and gently. I started kissing down her neck making sure to leave mark. i could hear her breathy moans in my ear giving me the confidence to move my hands to her ass. i picked her up and her legs wrapped around my waist.

“paige” she moaned out

“what baby”

“please” i started taking off her shirt my lips still sucking on her neck. i let out a big grin when i saw no bra.

“good girl” i laughed out. i grabbed her tit in my hand gently massaging it.

“off” she motioned at my white tank top. i tore it off. i took a step back. she looked so beautiful, on my desk in my room with me.

she hoped off the desk pushing me on to my bed. i layed down as she straddled my waist.

“babe i need to see you” she said in between kisses. i took off my sports bra and she let out a small gasp, i pulled her lips back to mine my hands on her ass as she grinned into me her hands on my tits. i grabbed onto her waist and flipped her over. all the sudden tears started streaming down her beautiful cheeks.

“what’s wrong”

“paige’s it’s too much i can’t do this right now” i finally though i would be able to show her how much i want her.

“fine” i yell out. she starts crying more. i get off her and start collecting her clothes

———————

sophs pov.

i leave paige’s dorm and get into my car as soon as i sit down my tears start to fall down my face. one thing i always vowed to myself is to never drive when you are emotional so i sat in my car crying in silence. once my emotions subsided i started driving toward my dorm. luckily my roommate was out of town so i wouldn’t have to explain that im crying cause i was about to sleep with paige bueckers.

i went to sleep that night dreaming about how her body felt against mine and how i would probably never get to experience that again. i wake up to the sounds of my phone buzzing over and over. i groan and pick it up hoping it’s not paige and too my surprise it isn’t instead it me getting tagged over and over again in edits and gossip videos about me on paige last in the live. i throw my phone across my bed hoping i can go asleep and never wake up again. but i have classes and homework to do so i get up and start my day.

in my first class sociology i felt like everyone was staring at me. even though it was probably just my imagination how could news even travel that fast there’s no way everyone was on that live.

i had a break before my next class so i went to the cafe to get food. as i was grabbing my salad i see a tall blond in the corner of my eye. my mind immediately thought it was paige but there are so many blondes at uconn so you ignore it and continue getting your salad. you walked over to a empty table trying not to make eye contact with anyone in case they know about the live. you start to relax as you chew you food in peace. but then the song that’s playing in the cafe stops and you hear kks loud voice say.

“paige she’s here” i try to not glance around but I have to see if she’s actually here. i quickly turn my head just to check and we lock eyes. i turn back to my food suddenly not feeling hungry so i sprint to the trash and quickly leave the cafe. but i hear foot steps running behind me.

“soph stop i need to talk to you” paige yells out of breath.

“paige it’s fine i just need some space” you yell back not affording to look at her.

“sophia please” she pleading. but i keep walking away.

[thegamingcatmom]

I've loved what you've done with the ideas that I throw your way!

Your writing's always great!

You're one of my fav writers, and whenever you update with your answers to asks on what the characters would think for things? always brings joy to my day!

Not an idea but a thought to a question that came up,

I've realized now that you've brought up kitchen use...and carmen mixing up salt and sugar cause they can't taste....

How are they gonna feed MC? like, is she gonna be fed take out? From your last answer to the ask, Tanya definitely isn't gonna want to let her cook when MC's attention could be on her,

But let's say Carmen, who wants to work on humaning tries to make her a meal...

I've just had a realization that they've lived for quite some time, and it's been a long time since any of them were people who required food and used a kitchen in such a manner,

Like, I assume they'd have been taught to cook within their time periods before when they were still humans growing up,

But also, how well do they truly remember those recipes from, say (carmen was turned in the 1700s? and tanya kate and irina 1000s?) so like centuries to millenia old recipes that they partially remember from their time when they were still human if they even remember at all that is (don't get me started on if they can't find the necessary ingredient for some old dish that they assume MC will love)

Like they don't eat human food unless MC offered and is watching them 👀 and they think it'll score them some points or infuriate Tanya(getting off track whoops) and haven't cooked for way way WAY longer,

And they technically could follow a recipe, but at the same time, what are the odds that one of them go

"I feel like this needs more seasoning, the amount the recipe lists honestly sounds like it'll turn out bland in proportion to the volume of liquid in here already"

*proceeds to add in a cup of salt to the stew or whatever it is they're trying to cook*

"don't want it to be under seasoned"

*dumps in half a cup of saffron and cinnamon*

"I used to make this all the time when I was human....now how much of this spice did I need?"

Or how some people go "measure with your heart" and pours in a mega ton of whatever other ingredient

And they wouldn't be able to know that it's bad or overly seasoned since it's human food in the first place.

Unless they actually follow a recipe for something or make simple foods that actually turn out edible.

Like MC is gonna either have take out, home cooked overly seasoned to the point that it's questionable if edible meals, old old recipes, or idk maybe like instant meals. At least until they hopefully give in to letting MC cook

But also like imagining Tanya at first trying to cook for MC to get her to warm up to her and maybe thinking she can try to gain her affections by feeding her her cooking or whatever, but it just goes no.

-📚 sorry that it's kinda really wordy😣

Ahhh, thank you so much for your lovely words! 🙈🥰

I love answering them and feeding my own obsession as well as yours, hehe. It´s so motivating receiving yalls asks, you have no idea. Whenever a new one pops up and I get a notif on my phone, this is legit me:

GIMME THAT GOOD STUFF. 😩🤌

.

Ahh yes, yes, yes-

LISTEN-

Take out? And risk MC getting sick from all that stuff?? Nuhu, not on Carmen´s watch-

(Kate would be all for it probs. Anything that keeps the hooman fed and alive is good enough for her.

...Until the hooman does get sick for the very first time. Tanya would banish the word alone, lemme tell ya.)

I´ve been thinking about that as well, actually. Quite often.

Like yes, I defo think they got some recipes that they´ve frequently cooked up as humans, especially Carmen. Yall can´t tell me that woman wouldn´t serve MC some Spanish cuisine like a true chef-

...If only she knew how. 😭

She used to. But it´s been years since then. I do think they kinda remember the things that were most important to them as humans, but it´s probs fading more and more the longer they wander this earth. In the end, it´s nothing more than an echo - still there, but just out of reach.

BUT-

Good thing she´s got her vampy brain. It´s faster. More capable. Stores information better. All MC´s gotta do is make damn sure those jars are properly labeled (salt, sugar, etc.) and we´re good. 💪

It might take a bit (like, 2 days probs) but, before long, Carmen will have read any and every book about Spanish cuisine there is, and she WILL work her way through every single recipe, and she WILL cook them all up, if it´s the last thing she does.

And, who knows, perhaps it sparks something within her? Brings back some memories from her past life? So she can finally make that Spanish dish she herself enjoyed so much as a human? She knows it´s up there *points to head* somewhere.

Like, can you imagine MC tasting it for the very first time and thinking it´s the best thing ever?? Can you imagine the LOOK on Carmen´s face?? If she was still human, you can bet your ass there would be tears-

.

Carmen: *sets the plate with her fav Spanish dish in front of MC, a somewhat anxious look on her face*

MC: *eyes it suspiciously, but then remembers Carmen´s nice, so she tries to look like she looks forward to having a taste*

MC: *looks up at Carmen*

Carmen: 👀

MC: 😬

MC, internally: 💀

MC: *looks back down at her dish and accepts her fate cause what is she to do?*

MC: *takes the fork and goes for a very hesitant first bite*

Carmen: 👀

MC: *chews*

Carmen: 👀

MC: *chews some more*

Carmen: 👀

MC: "..."

Carmen: 👀

MC: "..."

Carmen, thinking it sucks ass: 😰

Carmen: "What is missing this time? Or is it too spicy? It is, is it not? I swear I did everything as I remembered it, down to the very last ingredient-"

MC, finally deciding to put that poor woman out of her misery: "It tastes...good."

Carmen: "..."

MC, not even trying to hide her surprise: "...Really good, actually."

Carmen: 👀

MC: 👀

MC: *wastes no more time and dives right in for more, finally some good fucking food-*

Carmen, only now realizing what just happened: 😯😀😍

Also Carmen, two seconds later: 🥹

Tanya, in the distance: *betrayal, jealousy, indignation*

Also Tanya: *already scheming to steal that damn notepad Carmen´s no doubt used to write down the recipe for later use*

Kate, right next to Tanya: *already scheming to steal another indirect kiss...or perhaps try for an actual one, seeing how the lil spitfire seems to be in rather good spirits right now, hmm...*

Irina: *please hold the line*

MC: *still happily munching*

Carmen: 🥰

.

LIKE, YKNOW???

Carmen is too precious for this world. 😭

But ye, that´s pretty much what would happen. Carmen´s gonna make sure the hooman is well-fed so ppl won´t even think about getting her that greasy take out. She might have left her human days behind her centuries ago, but even she recognizes a potential heart attack when she sees one.

.

But I LOVE all your ideas, as per usual. The one with failing to purchase an ingredient because it might no longer exist in this mordern world?? At least not under the name they used to know it by?? PLEASE. 😭

.

But also, the one where they just pour stuff in like no tmr in hopes it´s gonna be the right amount and MC will remain standing?? PLEASE. 💀

But also also, I actually don´t think they´d do that. (Anymore.) At least not until they got the hang of it all. And, if they did decide to season it, then they´d start with something they´ve already made. Yknow, just try out a lil something. Nothing too over the top. Just a smidge. See how MC reacts first. See if she drops dead-

RIGHT, so-

I think they´d go strictly by recipe until they figured it all out. Lest they give MC an actual heart attack...

.

Right so, Carmen cooking is all fine and dandy-

...Until it isn't. Because once the initial joy over getting something edible has faded somewhat, MC realizes that she's bored. Terribly so. (Because, if it was up to Tanya, she'd be sitting somewhere looking pretty all day, nothing more, nothing less. Laying around works too, ofc. Works even better.) And also, she's never been one to let others do the work for her. She's very much capable of fending for herself, tyvm.

So, you can bet your ass she WILL help Carmen cook, if it's the last thing she does.

And Carmen? There's no way she's gonna deny her. She just doesn't have it in her. In fact, she'll be most pleased to spend some quality time with her daughter-in-law charge.

...Unlike her leader.

Nuhu. Impossible. Out of the question. Under no circumstances will she allow her troublemaker-

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😤

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😠

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😒

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😑

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😐

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 🙁

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😕

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: ☹️

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya: 😖

The Troublemaker: 🥺

Tanya, hesitantly opens one eye: 👁

The Troublemaker: 😔

Tanya: 😮‍💨

The Troublemaker: 😔

Tanya, sighing: "...Alright. BUT, I shall oversee proceedings at any time very closely-"

The Troublemaker: 🤩

Tanya: "..."

The Troublemaker: 🥰

Tanya: 🥴

Carmen, having watched it all unfold: 😏 🤭

.

Who is manipulating whom exactly? PLEASE. 😭

.

Okay but also Tanya trying to cook something up for MC so she can preen under her attention and praise, just like Carmen did?? And, in order to accomplish that, she might just go through with her plan of stealing that damn notepad?? Girl is desperate, lemme tell ya. 😭

But also, even if she did manage to steal that notepad, she gotta actually cook it too. Somehow, I don't see our proud coven leader being very good at following instructions (because she can do it ten times better). Especially not when it comes to MC, lol. They´re more alike than MC realizes, I reckon.

ANYWAY-

Tanya´s probs gonna take one look at that recipe and go like "Hmm, okay yeah sounds legit but no" and yknow, just put her own spin on it because there´s no way she´s just gonna copy someone. Especially when it comes to doing anything for MC. (She must stand out.)

(We´re not gonna talk about the fact that she still kinda copies someone by using that recipe in the first place. No, we´re not.)

She´s Tanya Denali, head of the Denali coven, and she will NOT rely on others when it comes to providing for MC. Not on her watch. She´s gonna use Carmen´s recipe and morph it into something that screams "Tanya Denali". (Only Tanya knows what that means, I´m afraid.)

OR, in other words:

It goes just as horribly as we all probs imagine:

Tanya: *sets the plate full of...something in front of MC, looking all proud and smug*

MC: *not even trying to hide her suspicion (and slight disgust) this time*

Tanya, entirely confident: 😌

MC, dares to look up from her plate of horror: 👀

Tanya: 😌

MC, realizing she has no choice if she wants to eat today: 💀

Tanya: 😌

MC: *lifts the fork to her mouth...very slowly indeed*

Tanya: 😌

MC: *closes her mouth around the fork*

Tanya: 😌

MC: *starts chewing*

Tanya, unable to hide her curiosity any longer at the chewing sound: 👀

MC: *some more chewing*

Tanya: 👀

MC: "..."

Tanya: 👀

MC: "..."

Tanya: 👀

MC: *looks up at Tanya with nothing short of agony written all over her face*

Tanya, quickly schooling her face into one of smugness again: 😌

MC, struggling to speak through her mouthful which she has yet to swallow: "It´s..."

Tanya, most attentive now as she´s looking MC dead in the eyes: 👀 "Delicious?"

MC: "..."

Also Tanya: 👀 "Exquisite?"

MC: "..."

Also Tanya: 👀 "Just as expected?"

MC: *finally swallows down her mouthful with great difficulty so she can answer*

Tanya: 👀

MC, who has expected it to be quite horrible indeed: "...I guess you could say that."

Tanya, who has never once doubted her abilities: 😌

Also Tanya, internally: 🤩😍🥰🥴

MC, on the outside: 🥲

MC, on the inside: *already plotting her grand escape from the kitchen*

.

Mistakes were made. Misunderstandings were born.

I MEAN-

Girl was trying, aight?? 😭

.

.

.

Tysm for another one of your lengthy asks! Whenever I answer one of these I feel like we're doing our own lil spin-off à la "Keeping Up With..." 😅🤭

Have a great day and cya at the next one! ❤️

[mattssluttywaist]

HALFWAY TO 1K?? I LOVE YALL SO MUCH HERES THERE ENTIRE BEE MOVIE SCRIPT

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right.

- At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Couple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step

(Stay tuned for pt 2. next time 🤫 )

[itsbeeble]

Merry Bad Ending

Summary: He'd been sent to protect you, to guide you, and keep you on the path the fates had set for you. He knew he couldn't get involved with you, it went against everything he was taught. But he can't help it, can't help but love you no matter the consequences.

Genre: Angst, fluff, Guardian Angel!au, Soulmate!au

Pairing: Lee Hyunjae x fem!reader (feat. oc, Eric, Sunwoo, Sangyeon, and I think that's it)

WC: 8.5k (I'm sorry)

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Warnings: mentions of religion (mainly Christianity); hurt and kinda comfort; age gap (I'm sorry. Reader will be 24 and Hyunjae will appear 25 but is actually a couple thousand years old); major character death; illness; honestly there isn’t a ton of romance it’s just kinda sad (there will still be some); mentions of death; violence; minor injuries; threats of death (Hyunjae gets violent); illness (LOTS OF IT); alcohol mentions and consumption; Idk let me know if I missed something; brief mentions of kind of bad home life; rude friends; swearing; MINORS DNI 18+

Listen to Merry Bad Ending by The Boyz if you want idk

A/N: yall i'm sorry this took so long and I'm sorry if it isn't my best work. I didn't really wanna do anything too romantic for this one, so there's no spice this time bjghsugs. I hope you enjoy it either way!

~

Hyunjae remembered when he was first assigned to you. You were both young—  at least, you were. You’d been seven at the time, young, curious, and ready to learn about all the cruel things the world could throw at you. He’d appeared to you in the form of a 25-year-old man. Tall, fluffy brown hair, and a pretty face. He looked so young, and he enjoyed the attention that was drawn to him. He enjoyed seeing the human population watch this young man walk by in black clothes, soaked by the rain as if he hadn’t a care in the world. They weren’t aware of who he was. They didn’t know that he couldn’t feel the cold, couldn’t get sick from the rain that was slowly falling from the clouds above them. It always rained when a Guardian began their assignment. Some religions take the rain as a sign that God is angry with them, but only a few know the truth. 

This storm is a goodbye, as the angels will not see their Father or their brethren for a long time. Not until their assignment is fulfilled. Nobody knows where they will be until they are finished. No one except for their Father. Hyunjae hadn’t seen his brother, Sangyeon, in over 600 years. He has no idea where he is, and no idea if he is alive. All he knows is that he is assigned to a bloodline and that he has to care for them all until there is no one left. That can take anywhere from 100 to 1,000 years. 

A crack of thunder overhead. 

Children run to their yelling parents as rain begins to pour down. 

He walks slowly, watching you in your little violet jacket and black rain boots. You sit on the mulch, playing with trucks and ignoring the way your little body is shaking from the cold. Hyunjae sniffs, pushing his sopping wet hair behind his ear as he opens the umbrella in his hand and holds it over you. You don’t notice at first, so focused on that old, yellow toy truck that was covered in stains and rain and all sorts of things that would have your parents yelling for you to put the toy down and play on the swings. 

Parents. That’s right. Your parents. They should be here with you, why aren’t they here with you?

“Who are you?” You’re looking at him now, big eyes full of curiosity and caution. Good. Your parents at least taught you not to trust strangers you meet on the street. 

Hyunjae takes a moment to think. Should he introduce himself yet? Should he tell you his human name or the name his Father gave him?

“My name is Hyunjae,” he flashes a smile at you. Angelic, stunning, everything an angel should be. Your mouth parts in awe. That dopey little lip part that children get when they’re stunned by something. “What are you doing out here all on your own, little bug?”

“I’m waiting for my mommy. She said she would be here soon!” You smile brightly and continue playing with the truck. Hyunjae frowns. 

“When was that?” You shrug.

“I dunno. Before school.”

“And…when was school?” You scowl at him.

“You sure ask a lot of questions, Mister Hyunjae.” Your lack of trust is amusing. Hyunjae crouches down, making sure that the umbrella stays over your head.

“You don’t ask enough, little bug.”

“Why are you calling me a bug?” You turn towards him finally, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly on your lap. “Bugs are gross, Mister.” He laughs and you crack a smile. 

“Bugs aren’t gross, silly.” He lifts his arms, his hand palm-side down. When he flips his hand over, there’s a butterfly on his fingers, fluttering its wings and waiting to fly. “At least, not all of them. This butterfly is fairly beautiful, don’t you think?” 

Your eyes are wide with amazement, and he watches you try to do what he did. 

“How did you do that!?” You cry. “That’s so cool!”

“Maybe one day I’ll teach you, little bug.” He pats your head, and you beam at him. The butterfly drifts from his finger, and Hyunjae shifts so you can’t see the small, beautiful creature struggle to reach the large oak tree behind you. 

~

You’re nine now. Two years, and yet somehow he’s never seen your parents. He’s watched every day as you leave your house and trudge down the busy sidewalk to get to your school two miles away. He walks where no one can see him except you, and he watches you look at him out of the corner of your eyes. Hyunjae sees the curiosity and the annoyance whenever you see him, and it couldn’t make him more amused. 

“Why are you always following me?” You ask him one day. He’s standing beside you while you swing, giving you a little push here and there. People can see him now, and the mothers are cooing about what a nice young man, playing with his niece. He rolls his eyes at them. 

“I’m not following you. You just happen to be going everywhere I need to be.”

“Are you sure? And why haven’t you changed at all?” You ask him. He just smiles. “And also, why couldn’t anybody see you when we were at school? I was talking to you and Eric and he thought I was crazy for some reason.” You stop your swing and kick the dirt with a pout. Hyunjae crouches beside you and puts his finger under your chin to lift your head. There are tears in your eyes, and he frowns at that.

“Why are you crying, little bug?” You don’t speak at first, your lip trembling and your eyes shining. Hyunjae lifts his hand, and when he flips it over there’s a butterfly. A monarch, just like the last time. He holds his hand out for you to hold the small insect, but you just start sobbing. The butterfly, now startled, flutters off toward the road. He watches as a car zips by the poor creature, and he doesn’t see it fly away. When he looks back at you, you’re trying to wipe your tears. 

They don’t stop, and he wraps a hand around your shoulders, pulling you in for a tight hug that you find yourself returning. He feels you shaking against him, feels the tears starting to soak into his crisp black button-down shirt.

“Y/N,” he says your name in a quiet yet stern voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” You sniffle against his chest and he sighs.

“I don’t wanna die like mommy.” His body goes rigid and you pull away from him. 

“What did you say?” He breathes out. 

“I don’t wa-wanna d-die like m-mommy.” You hiccup and Hyunjae’s eyes become dark with an emotion you haven’t seen before, and he can only pray to his Father that you never have to. 

“You aren’t going to, little bug.” He promises. “Not if I can help it.”

~

That night he speaks to his Father. He finds himself alone in the park, sitting on the same swing you had when you spoke to him. 

I don’t wanna die like mommy. 

You’d been so afraid when you said that, and he couldn’t help the twinge in his heart. Sometimes it was hard to be a Guardian. You weren’t allowed to stop the fate of your assignment. You weren’t allowed to change details. You could only sit and watch and turn your eyes away when things got bad. Most angels turned their emotions off like a switch, only acting as if they cared for their assignments until it was done. 

Hyunjae couldn’t do that. He had promised Sangyeon that, no matter the cost, he wouldn’t turn them off. He intended to keep that promise. 

“You asked to see me.” 

A voice around him. Not in front, or behind, or on either side. It surrounds him as if it was the water in a lake he’d submerged himself in. He flinches at the sound but doesn’t raise his eyes.

“It’s good to see you, Father.” No response, so Hyunjae continues. “Why didn’t you tell me anything about my assignment?”

“You knew everything you needed to know about the girl. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s only a child, and she’s terrified of dying like her mother. How can that be what the fates have intended for her?” Hyunjae keeps his voice level, but his hands are beginning to shake with anger. 

“Are you questioning your abilities to continue this assignment?”

“No, Father.” Hyunjae shakes his head and sighs. “I’m just…I want to understand why you did this.” There’s a warm feeling across his shoulders, and he feels his body beginning to relax. There’s a comfort in his Father’s shadowy embrace, one that he cherishes no matter what he feels for Him. 

“You will understand when you are both ready. For now, proceed as you were. There is still time.” Hyunjae’s eyebrows knit together and he raises his head at last. The warm embrace has vanished, along with the overwhelming presence that had accompanied it. 

“The hell do you mean there’s still time?” He mutters, rising to his feet and taking a few steps forward. “Time for what?”

~

Hyunjae watches as you celebrate your sixteenth birthday with a few of your close friends. There’s a smile on your face while you cut the cake and open presents, but he can see something weighing on you. He can see the emotions rolling off of you in waves, even when you smile brightly at him. 

A storm rages outside your house, and Hyunjae can only imagine what is happening in the heavens above him.

“Are you two dating?” He hears one of your friends ask, but you vehemently deny it. You claim that he’s far too old for you, that he’s just a family friend that’s in town for a while. One of your friends side-eyes him and he raises an eyebrow. He does admit that, in his black attire, he does look mildly intimidating. He understands where she’s coming from and why she’d be suspicious of him. 

Hyunjae doesn’t acknowledge her otherwise, keeping his narrowed eyes on you for the rest of the night. As a Guardian, he should be able to gauge some idea of what you’re thinking and feeling. He should be able to gauge your health status, whether you’re sick or not. He senses nothing from you. 

He senses nothing and that’s terrifying.

“You okay, man?” Eric is beside him, gazing curiously at the older man that he’s almost positive hasn’t aged a day in seven years. He’s the same height, has the same broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, and his eyes haven’t formed the wrinkled lines many 30-something-year-olds have. He still has that smooth, unblemished skin that looks perfect always.

“I’m fine,” Hyunjae tilts his head to the side, gazing at the younger boy. He eyes the little acne scars on the young boy's face, the dried strands of his bleached hair, and the lankiness of his limbs. He knows the boy will grow into himself. He knows the fate of nearly everyone in this room, save for you. Guardians can’t know their assignment’s fate. They can only guide them down the path they deem correct. Everyone else, though? Their fates are open for practically everyone to see. 

Eric, for example, falls into a downward spiral when he’s twenty-five. Mental health is his downfall, and he never recovers. 

The girl that gave him a dirty look won’t make it past her second year of college. Poor child.

“What’s your skincare routine?” Eric blurts out suddenly, and Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. “I just— your skin is really smooth and I really just want to know what your routine is. I have a lot of, uh, blemishes?” The more Hyunjae looks at the young boy, the more nervous Eric seems to get. Hyunjae smiles at this, smiles knowing that he is, in fact, superior to the human race in more ways than deemed important. 

“Just basic cleansers, some moisturizer. Face mask here and there.” Eric nods quickly, foolheartedly believing the lie, and Hyunjae can practically see him making a list of things he needs. 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Eric claps Hyunjae on the shoulder, grimacing at the solid impact and the pain that shot up his wrist. “Maybe I should get your gym routine, too. Shit, you’re built like a goddamn brick wall.”

“You shouldn’t swear too much,” Hyunjae sniffs and kicks himself off the wall. “Never know who might be watching over you.”

~

When your friends leave, you finally allow yourself to sit, and Hyunjae watches as you put your head in your hand and just sit at the small dining room table. The small waves of emotion are becoming tsunamis, and though he can’t tell exactly what you’re feeling, he knows that you’re upset by something. He knows that there’s something wrong, something that he can’t figure out. 

“Little bug,” he sits down next to you, his large frame practically dwarfing yours. “Can I tell you a story?”

You look at him, your eyes heavy with emotion. You try to smile, but he can see how difficult it is and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“You heard of God, and of Adam and Eve, and Lucifer, and all of them. You’ve heard the Bible stories and learned of the angels that fought against the demons.” You nod and he proceeds. “Have you heard of the angels that stood alongside them? Not the ones that were deemed threats, or ones that everyone could see. Ones that protected them, and guided them along their fated paths.”

“What, guardian angels?” Your eyes are curious again and he smiles. “I mean, I’ve heard people talk about them but I’ve never seen them in Bible stories or anything like that.”

“That’s because they aren’t in the Bible,” Hyunjae explains. “God made it clear from the start that these Guardians weren’t to inform their…people of their existence. Guardians were to play alongside the children, befriend the adults, and take the form of whatever they found their people needed.”

“If they weren’t supposed to be common knowledge, why do you know so much about them?” You ask, and Hyunjae shrugs. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Such a curious little bug,” he nudges you and you crack a smile. A real, beautiful smile that warms every inch of his body. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that even if it doesn’t feel like it, there is somebody watching over you. Someone is here to protect you, keep you safe, and ensure that you’re happy, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I want you to know that maybe your guardian angel is closer than you think, lingering out of the corner of your eye. Just out of sight when you turn your head.” 

From his pocket, he pulls out a little box wrapped in violet paper. There’s a bow on the top, black and satiny. Your eyes widen when he places the box in your palm and squeezes your shoulder. 

“Open it.”

“You didn’t have to, Hyunjae…” He just shrugs. 

“No, I didn’t. But I did.” You smile and gently do your best not to rip the delicate wrapping paper while opening your gift. Despite your efforts, Hyunjae watches you wince at the small tear in the paper. 

“You don’t have to be so careful,” he tells you, “it’s just paper.” You shake your head.

“Purple is my favorite color, you should know this by now Jae.” He just sits back against the couch cushion and lets you open the jewelry box he’d gotten you. You look back at him with a confused pout and he just gestures for you to open it. 

A necklace. Thin silver chain, and a pendant attached. 

A butterfly made of delicately crafted wings. There are jewels attached to the butterfly, creating the wings and the eyes. 

“Diamonds?” Your eyes narrow and he feels his heart sink a bit. Did you hate it? “Jae, how did you afford this?”

“Call it a family heirloom,” he lies. “My mother’s.”

“Your mother had a brand new diamond necklace just hanging around the house, and you gave it to me instead of giving it to your girlfriend?” You turn fully toward him and scowl. “Lee Hyunjae you shouldn’t have gotten me a gift so expensive.”

“Why not?” He challenges.

“I’m not worth this much!” It’s his turn to scowl.

“You know that’s not true, little bug. You’re worth far more than you know.”

~

Hyunjae hovers over your shoulder, watching you bite at your nails while you write your essay.

“I still don’t understand why colleges make you write these things.” His fingers wrap around the back of your chair and you roll your neck. Your head brushes against his abdomen and you flinch away. 

“They want to know about us, what makes us good candidates. Now can you read this and make sure it sounds like a sob story?” He rolls his eyes when you push him into the chair and take his position. 

You’d written about your mom. About how she got sick when you were little, and about how your dad was basically never there. You wrote about how you would walk yourself to school every day, and walk yourself to the nearby park until your sick mother could get you. Often, you would be at the park until the sun went down and the street lights would come on. 

“This is sad,” Hyunjae takes a pause and your eyes shoot to him nervously.

“Good sad or bad sad?”

“Good. Let me finish reading.” You nod and he turns back to the computer screen. 

Halfway through the essay, he sees something familiar. 

You’d written about him. About how he helped you stay alive through those hard times. How he, this mysterious man that claimed to be a family friend, was the only consistent person in your life. How he helped you grow into the woman that he’d convinced you was real, and that you didn’t have to struggle through life on your own.

“You called me your guardian angel?” His lips twitch into a smile and you laugh nervously. 

“I— I just meant that— that you were always there for me, y’know?” You spit out quickly. “You kept me on the right path, even when I started going astray.” Hyunjae’s smile grows and he lifts himself out of the chair. 

“Little bug, I didn’t do anything. Every choice you made, every path you chose, that was you. I was just a bit of moral support,” he denies, even though he knows you’re right. Although, you don’t need to know that he’s literally your guardian angel. You don’t need to know that yes, he was guiding you through the motions. He kept your boat from capsizing from even the most dangerous waves. 

He can’t take all the credit for your success, even when it was due. 

Still, you squeeze his shoulder and place your chin on his shoulder while he reads. His hands are beginning to shake, and he isn’t quite sure why. 

“What do you think?” You ask, and he feels your breath brushing against his ear. His skin grows warm. 

“I think it’s very well done.” He starts to rise from the chair and you take a few steps back, sitting on the mattress of your bed. He crosses his arms, steeling his body so you can’t see the shaking of his hands, the sweat on his neck. “I think these colleges would be foolish to not accept you.”

“You think so?” You’re hopeful, and he smiles, walking toward you until he’s hardly a foot away from you.

“I know so, little bug.” Your body goes rigid when you feel his lips against your forehead. Your cheeks go ablaze, the heat spreading down your neck. It’s the first time he’d shown this kind of true affection toward you, and you aren’t quite sure what to do with it. 

He’s still smiling when he pulls back, laughing to himself when he sees your stunned expression.

“You keep working, I’ll go make some food.”

~

You were twenty-one when Hyunjae finally gave up on stopping you from going to parties. For years he’d forced you to stay home, to “not waste your time getting shit-faced with a bunch of nobodies who couldn’t give less of a shit about you”. He’d caught you a number of times when you tried to sneak out the window of your dorm room, sitting in the tree you were going to climb down in a flimsy skirt and some heels. He’d stopped you from sneaking out the main doors by waking your RA. Anything you could think of trying, he somehow already knew and was prepared to stop you.

“I’m just keeping you safe,” he’d say with a smirk and a shrug. “Besides, you won’t have to sneak out in a couple of years. Just hold off a little longer, focus on your studies, and hang out with your friends at a cafe or something.”

“What am I supposed to say when they ask me why I keep ditching them?” You stomp your foot, and Hyunjae raises an eyebrow. 

“Tell them your guardian angel said no.” You think he’s kidding, that he isn’t taking you seriously, and that he’s mocking you. He isn’t, and he wishes he could tell you that but he could be killed.

When he finally does let you go, he comes with you and Eric, playing along as your chauffeur and as a guest. You’re a bit too excited, and Eric has to calm you down before Hyunjae puts the car in park. He can see you looking at him out of the corner of your eye, eyeing him up and down. He’s smirking. It isn’t as if he’s dressed up, at least no more than he usually is. A white tee shirt, a leather jacket that’s been left unzipped, some black pants, and black boots. No change from his usual colors, just a bit more style to fit in more with the college kids. 

Nobody would question a 25-year-old at a college party. Half the men in the frat were nearing that age anyway, and Hyunjae’s lip curled in disgust when he saw one chatting up a freshman, just barely out of high school. 

He feels your arm looping through his, and his gaze turns back to you. You’re talking with Eric, and he sees your arm also looped through his. You want to keep them both close, at least for a while. Hyunjae’s eyes narrowed at the young boy. Since high school, he’s put on some muscle and cleaned up the acne he’d been so worried about. He’d have no problem finding someone to settle down with, and he knows the Guardian watching over Eric is pleased with this.

“…don’t you think, Jae?” You look up at him expectantly, your eyes glittering with excitement. You don’t know he has no idea what you said, and he doesn’t plan on you finding out so he smiles and nods.

“Sure thing, little bug.” 

The music is overwhelmingly loud. Not nearly the loudest party he’d had to attend, but nonetheless he hated every second he was in the disgusting house. You and Eric had peeled off in another direction, somewhere across the room and he was on the landing, leaning on the banister with a half-empty red cup in one of his hands. Every time he takes a sip from the plastic cup, he grimaces at the disgusting taste. Human alcohol had become more and more disgusting as the years dragged on. Every time he was dragged to an event, such as this one, he prayed to his father that the drinks wouldn’t get any worse. And, every time, his prayers went unanswered. 

“Hey,” a girl appears at his side and he doesn’t even spare her a glance. “What’s a handsome man like yourself doing at a party like this?” She’s too close for comfort, her clothing too revealing for his taste. He scoffs, ignoring her. She keeps talking. “You seem a bit too old to be going to lame frat parties. Shouldn’t you be at a bar or at a club?” Now he looks at her, his eyebrow raised. She smiles, her lips colored ruby red and her eyes flashing with mischief. 

“I go to the university.”

“My point still stands.” He sighs, returning to leaning over the banister. You’re talking with a man now, and he picks up bits of your conversation. 

My name’s Sunwoo.

Y/N.

What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing at a party like this?

Humans, similarly to their drinks, get less and less creative with time. Recycling the same useless tactics over and over again until someone is desperate enough to fall for it. 

Sunwoo twirls a piece of your hair around your finger, and Hyunjae’s teeth grind together at the way you swoon. Of course, you would be one to fall for the stupid comments and greetings. Of course.

“You seem awfully close to that girl.” Hyunjae rolls his eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“You should be careful.” Her finger is trailing down his arm now. “You never know what sort of evil will catch up with the two of you.” His body goes rigid and his head snaps to the side. 

Her eyes are boring into his, red meeting gold. She’s still smiling, her hand still trailing up and down his arm. Hyunjae bites down on his tongue, rising to stand straight. 

“What are you doing here?” He hisses. The demon beside him just continues to smile. 

“I’m a warning. Someone sent me to warn you, Guardian.”

“Who sent you?” He yanks his arm out of her grasp, and she sighs. 

“I can’t tell you that, Guardian. But you should be careful. They’re watching, waiting. Soon enough, they will take one of you. They don’t care which.” The demon begins to back up, and Hyunjae follows. To anyone around, it may look like she’s seducing him. Bringing him to one of the bedrooms upstairs. 

“Why should I believe you?” 

“Your brother did.” She shrugs and Hyunjae’s breath hitches. “In fact, he sends his regards from his assignment. The man he was assigned to recently got married and his wife is now pregnant. You should be proud of them.”

“Why do you know Sangyeon?” 

“I told you, I’m just here to warn you.” 

She’s gone before he can respond, disappearing into the crowd and no matter how he strains his neck, he can’t spot her anymore. But he sees you. You’re alone now, and Sunwoo seems to have found a new interest in a pretty girl by the “bar”. He walks over to you, shoving through the crowd and ignoring those who snap at him. 

When your eyes lock on his, that warm feeling returns to his chest. All thoughts of the demon have disappeared, and now his mind is consumed by you. Protecting you, caring for you, being with you, having you. 

“Jae?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even with his superior hearing. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him. Your hand is wrapped around his jacket, holding tightly. “Is everything okay?” He isn’t sure what comes over him. Maybe it’s the thought of someone hurting you. The thought of losing you. Maybe he’s scared of failing his assignment. Maybe he’s scared of failing you. He isn’t sure, but whatever it is has him drawing to him, his hand tilting your head up. He can hear and feel your heart beginning to pound. Hyunjae feels your grip on his jacket tighten, feels you beginning to stand on your toes. 

You’re inches away from him, the two of you tucked into a darker corner of the party with not a soul watching the two of you. His hand is still loosely gripping your chin, the other holding your waist. Your skin is warm to the touch, almost too warm. He watches your eyes, the way they begin to flutter shut and the way you almost seem to lean into him. 

His lips brush against your forehead, and you flinch against his touch. He goes to pull back but you keep him close, holding him against you. The two of you don’t move for a while. You just stand in that corner, holding each other as if you’re afraid the other will let go too soon.

~

You were just barely starting your third year of college when it happened. Just barely starting to live when your life was ripped out of your hands. 

See, the thing about illnesses is that sometimes they take time. Sometimes they are slow acting, and you don’t see them until late in the victim’s life. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you don’t get symptoms at all and are able to pass away peacefully. Sometimes those slow-acting illnesses begin to show, but treatments work quickly and they’re able to be stopped. 

But sometimes, on certain occasions, that isn’t the case. Sometimes illness strikes out of nowhere, sinking its teeth into the nearest unsuspecting victim. It latches on, feating until there is nothing left but a shell of the person that once was. 

You were linked up to monitors, needles sticking in your arms, and a number of nurses and doctors standing around your bedside. 

Unconscious.

That’s how Hyunjae found you. You were unconscious, and your skin was pale. Your eyes were sunken in. A doctor tries to make him leave, but there was something in the Guardian’s eyes that had the older man stumbling over his words and averting his eyes. 

It was a look of unfathomable rage. Like he had more power inside him, and such contempt for the world that he could cause more damage than the wrath of God. 

Hyunjae walked forward, pushing past the nurses trying to protest. In the reflection of one of the monitors, he could see his eyes. They were gold. Not just little flecks, not a shade of yellow that televisions tried to excuse as gold, but pure, vibrant gold. The anger in them darkened them, but anyone who looked into this man’s eyes was struck with awe. With amazement, confusion, and horror when they, past the screaming voices in their mind that told them death was imminent, realized how much danger they were in.

“What happened to her?” The doctor behind Hyunjae stuttered over his words again, and Hyunjae turns around. When he spoke again, it was as if there were millions of voices speaking all at once, overwhelming the medical professionals. “What. Happened. To. Her.”

“We…we aren’t sure yet,” the doctor breathed out, lowering his gaze to the floor. “It— she was brought here by a young man. He said that she collapsed in the middle of a presentation. It could be nothing, we just want to make sure.”

“If it was nothing,” Hyunjae hissed out and there was a swell of triumph when he sees the fear in the doctor’s eyes, “she would not be here, would she?”

“N-No, sir, I suppose not.” The doctor whimpered. 

“Fix her.” The order was clear, and the doctor knew without saying that his next phrase was not a threat, but a promise. “Fix her, or I swear on thy God that I will kill each and every last one of you. I will kill you, and I will kill your families, and I will kill anyone that you have even passed on the street if that’s what it takes for you to comprehend the importance of this.”

“Calm yourself, Hyunjae.” A hand on his shoulder, and he feels something inside of him jolt. His heart, maybe. He can feel it beginning to pound, can feel his lungs empty of air. “We don’t need any accidents today.”

For a moment, he just stands there frozen. He doesn’t know if he should turn around. Doesn’t know if he should react positively or negatively. Hyunjae’s heart is pounding, and for that moment he stands frozen, the fear and the anger begin to kick in.

“Sangyeon,” Hyunjae breathes out. His brother is smiling when he turns around. He’s smiling, and healthy, and he’s alive. “You’re…you’re here? But— but how did you— how are you—”

The doctors have left the room, and he can hear them whispering amongst each other. They’re debating calling the police, or just leaving him be. Someone picks up a phone, and Sangyeon pulls Hyunjae to the side, ducking into an empty hospital room and shutting the door. 

“How are you here?” Hyunjae hisses, pushing his brother back against the wall. There’s pain in his voice. Fear, even. There’s no possible way that Sangyeon could have found him. Guardians can’t track each other. They have no way of finding each other when on assignments. 

“You have to know the truth.” Sangyeon doesn’t push his younger brother away, just lets himself be shoved against the wall with a strong hand digging into his chest. Something warm is beginning to burn against his skin, and he bites down on his tongue to numb the pain. “Someone had to tell you, and it wasn’t going to be our Father.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjae pulls his hand away when smoke begins to rise from under his palm, tightening his hand into a fist to cool himself off. “What truth?”

“About this assignment. Didn’t she warn you?” The door behind them opens and closes, and Hyunjae whips around. His hands are glowing, radiating with heat that begins the catch on the fabric of the bed next to him. The woman— the demon he’d met just a year prior stands with her body leaning against the wall. She’s dressed in a nurse’s garb, his lips curled into that same smirk that he’d dreaded. 

“I tried, but your father must be a very convincing man.” Sangyeon smiles sadly, beckoning for her to join him. She tucks herself under his arm, practically wrapping her body around him. A lump is forming in Hyunjae’s throat, and his vision beginning to swim. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sangyeon frowns, taking a step toward his younger brother. Hyunjae takes a step back. “Why are you…brother, why are you with this creature?” The demon scoffs. 

“Creature? I would hardly call myself a creature, you stupid Guardian—”

“Hye-Ri,” Sangyeon interrupts, “that’s enough. Let me talk.” Hye-Ri’s lips purse and she takes a small step back. The older angel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jae, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Everything Father has told you up until now has been a lie.” Hyunjae bites his tongue, fighting the urge to argue with his brother. He might not believe Sangyeon, but he will not disrespect his brother. “He’s told you that this is just an assignment, that you need to guide her down the right path until she passes, is that correct?”

“Yes.” He keeps his response short and Sangyeon nods.

“He lied. This isn’t an assignment. This is a slaughter.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyunjae asks. “A slaughter?”

“Her mother wasn’t supposed to die,” Hye-Ri informs him, and his eyes narrow on her. “Sangyeon here was the woman’s guardian. She was supposed to live a long, fruitful life, but your Father fed her a disease. An angelic disease.”

“The same one Y/N has now.” Sangyeon nods and Hyunjae exhales heavily. “You said this was a slaughter?”

“Y/N is…different from what you’re used to. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you can’t get a reading on her. That you can’t quite understand her like you can other people.” Hyunjae just nods, and Sangyeon continues. “That’s because she’s a Link.”

“A what?” 

“Think of Links as soulmates,” Hye-Ri explains. “Links basically latch onto an angel, guardian or not, and link them to the human realm. Not a very creative name, but it does the trick.”

“Stay on track, Hye-Ri.”

“Right,” the demon nods, “your Father isn’t sure where it started, or with whom, but he intends to wipe out any and all links he can find.”

“But…but why does he need to do that? I mean…it can’t be dangerous to have a— a soulmate, as you called them.” Hyunjae gnaws on his lip, folding his arms over his chest.

“Father has never truly loved the human race as he claimed he did,” Sangyeon says. “He despises how we, the Guardians, grow close to them. How we grow attached to them. He fears another rebellion, should one grow too close to an assignment. He fears that the Links will be the very root of his angels betraying him. That his angels and these Links will produce heirs that are powerful enough to take down even himself.”

“So Y/N…” Hyunjae’s voice is trembling more than he’d like to admit. “She’s my…she’s my Link? My soulmate?” He receives a sad nod from his brother and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. 

“Father saw you growing attached. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before you began to break the rules he’d set in stone.”

“But I haven’t…I haven’t done anything. I’ve kept myself under control, nothing has happened!” Hyunjae protests. “It isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t fair to her.”

“I know.” Sangyeon wraps his arms around his younger brother, feeling Hyunjae’s body shake with rage and fear, and pain. “I know, little brother.”

~

A crack of thunder shakes the building, and the pounding of rain fills the awful silence of the hospital. It’s surprisingly quiet for this time of day, but nobody would ever say that out loud. 

Hyunjae is in your hospital room again, his head lowered and his foot tapping against the ground. A nurse enters the room, flinching when she sees him. Her body remains tense the entire time she takes your vitals. 

“Is she getting better?” He asks before the nurse leaves. There’s a moment of silence before he looks up at her. She looks afraid, but there’s sadness in her eyes.

“No. She’s not.”

The door shuts again and Hyunjae lowers his head back down. The beeping of machines begins to overwhelm him. It’s constant, and he begins to wonder if you can hear it too. If you can hear what’s going on around if you’re screaming for someone to hear you and see you and listen to you. 

When the door opens again, he knows who it is.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Eric is breathless, his voice hoarse and strained. 

“I have,” comes Hyunjae’s monotone response. 

“Has she woken at all?”

“No.” Hyunjae looks up again, resting his face against his laced fingers. “No, she’s comatose right now.” Eric’s face twists with pain, and Hyunjae barely flinches when the young boy’s hand collides with the concrete wall. There’s an ugly crunch, and he watches Eric bite back a scream. His knuckles are now bleeding, and his hand already going from red to purple. 

“Fuck.” The boy hisses quietly, cradling his fist to his chest. Hyunjae scoffs out a laugh.

“That was idiotic.”

“I know.” Eric sits beside the Guardian, squeezing his eyes shut and willing away the pain. Hyunjae eyes the bloodied and bruised fingers and rolls his eyes. 

“Give me your hand.” Hyunjae holds out his own hand, palm facing up, and Eric shoots him a look.

“No offense, you’re hot and all, but I’m not into you.” Hyunjae bites his tongue again and continues to hold out his hand.

“I’m not into you either. Glad we’re on the same page. Give. Me. Your. Hand.” Eric slowly stretches his arm out, placing his fist into Hyunjae’s outstretched palm. There’s a soft glow and a few cracking sounds. Eric’s face goes pale, watching his fingers snap into place as if they had never broken. The blood remains on his fingers, and he wipes them with a tissue.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Eric asks, gazing at his fixed hand in amazement.

“I have a number of tricks up my sleeve, kid.”

“Is this the same thing that keeps you from aging?” Hyunjae hesitates before he responds. “And don’t try lying to me. I’m not dumb. At first I just thought your skincare was hella good, but after twelve years of you not aging past twenty-five it kinda gets obvious that there’s something up.”

“You’re not afraid?” Hyunjae asks curiously. Eric shrugs.

“Unless you think I should be, not really. You’ve protected Y/N our whole lives, you’ve done nothing to make me think I shouldn’t trust you. I don’t know who or what you are, but I trust you.”

“Interesting.” Hyunjae sits back in his chair, leaning his head against the wall. “So if I told you I was her guardian angel, you’d believe me?”

“I mean…I guess?” Eric shrugs. “Unless, for some reason, that’s a lie?”

“No, it isn’t. And this isn’t a human disease.”

“What do you mean it isn’t a human disease? Like…this is from Heaven?”

“Mhm. Given to her directly by Father dearest to spite me.” Eric’s jaw drops open a bit.

“God wants to kill my best friend?”

“You pick up on things fast.” His head snaps to the side and he hears Eric hiss in pain. When Hyunjae turns his head back, Eric is sitting quietly, eyes trained on his best friend. “Are you glad you did that? Did that make you feel better?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Keep talking.”

“She’s what we call a Link. She is, essentially, my soulmate.”

“Ew, age gap much?” Hyunjae snorts, his lips curling into a smile. He’d expected Eric to be less accepting of all of this, but apparently, he’d underestimated the boy. 

“My Father, God as you call him, doesn’t necessarily approve of Links. He wants to eradicate them all. He gives them diseases, angelic diseases that have no cure in any world. Not in Heaven, not in Hell, and certainly not here. Any medications given are just prolonging the inevitable.”

“So…She’s just…gonna die?” Eric asks, and Hyunjae gives him a pitiful look. “Is there anything that you can do? You’re her soulmate, there’s gotta be something. True love’s kiss?” The Guardian shakes his head and Eric lets out a shaky sigh. 

“My brother is…trying to find something. Anything that can help her. We just have to be patient.”

He isn’t entirely sure who he’s trying to convince, himself or Eric or both. He knows that these attempts are futile. He knows that he can’t save you like he’d promised you so long ago. 

I don’t want to die like my mommy.

I won’t let that happen.

~

“We need to consider that she might not wake up.” Hyunjae stares down at the doctor, his hands shaking and his eyes narrowed. “It’s…it’s been two years, sir.”

“I don’t give a damn how long it’s been,” Hyunjae snarls, standing over your comatose form. Protecting you. “We aren’t pulling this plug. Not now, not ever. Do you understand me, Doctor?”

“Sir,” the older gentleman tries to plead, “I understand your frustration but… you need to face that she would be better off just…going on her own terms. Keeping her alive, in this state where she has no control over her bodily functions, where she can’t communicate with us or feel the things that we can, it isn’t good for her or for you.”

He knows the doctor is right. He knows he’s just prolonging the inevitable, he always has. But he can’t let go of you yet. It’s too soon. He hasn’t had enough time with you. Hasn’t had enough time to talk to you, to take care of you, to love you, cherish you, adore you. He hasn’t had time to show you the world, as he’d wanted to for so long. He hadn’t had time to tell you the truth. 

Although, at this point, the truth is…unfortunate. His wings had been stripped from his body, his and his brother’s. His rights as a Guardian have been removed. Anything he could’ve used to save you…there’s nothing left. He has Fallen, but he couldn’t be more proud of it. He doesn’t have to hide himself anymore, doesn’t have to fear the man he once called Father. 

“Hyunjae,” Hye-Ri stands at his side, her eyes tired. “You know the doctor is right.”

“Shut up, Hye-Ri.” The young demon snarls. Hye-Ri doesn’t snap at him this time. She looks sad, almost pitying him. Sangyeon stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of you do.”

“Lee Hyunjae,” Sangyeon says sternly, “use reason. I understand you’re upset, but you need to understand that your soulmate is suffering and that you are being selfish.”

“Am I not allowed to be selfish?” Hyunjae cries. “Even now that I am finally free from God’s hands, am I not allowed to be selfish for once?” Hye-Ri leaves the room, her eyes lowered to the ground. Sangyeon steps forward. Hyunjae moves even closer to you. 

“You are allowed to want things, little brother,” Sangyeon speaks softly, so as not to anger Hyunjae further. “You are allowed to want her. You are allowed to crave more time with her, but you cannot have her like this. You know that.” For a brief moment, Hyunjae wants to scream. He wants to throw the vase of flowers that sits beside your hospital bed, he wants to tear this building down until there’s nothing left but a pile of bricks. 

But he doesn’t. He stands there, gazing down at you and brushing his thumb across your cheek. Your body is cold, and when he touches you, you don’t so much as twitch. His hand drops to his side. 

“Get Eric. Get the doctor.”

~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the beach in front of you. You’re laying in the sand, water washing up to your ankles. The sun is warm on your skin, but you aren’t sweating. In fact, nothing about your situation is uncomfortable. You’re at peace, more comfortable than you think you’ve ever been.

The second thing you notice is that you’re in nothing but a bathing suit and a beach cover. You don’t remember changing into this. In fact, you can’t seem to remember anything after the party.

“You’re awake,” you turn your head and you begin to smile. Hyunjae is dressed in a simple tee shirt and shorts, two classes and a bottle of champagne clutched in his hands. He’s grinning at you, and you rise to your feet.

“You’re wearing something other than black, I see.” You tease him. He lets out a laugh, and you think it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Hilarious, little bug.” He nudges your side, guiding you to a nearby table with two long beach chairs sitting side-by-side. “Come have a drink with me.” You follow him, the beach cover blowing behind you a bit. Your hair isn’t quite tussled by the wind around you, just brushed over your shoulders. Everything is perfect.

Too perfect.

Hyunjae takes a seat on one of the chairs, gritting his teeth when he removes the top of the champagne bottle. 

“I always get nervous opening these things. Far too dangerous for their own good if you ask me.” You sit beside him, and he side-eyes you. “I got you your own chair.”

“What if I want to sit next to you?” You challenge. He pauses, and for a moment you think he looks…sad. That moment passes quickly, and he’s smiling again and laughing to himself. 

“I won’t stop you then.” He takes one of the glasses and slowly fills it with the bubbling alcohol before passing it to you. You thank him quietly and briefly turn your gaze to the ocean. 

“Have you ever seen water so clear?” You ask, half rhetorical and half curious. He hums.

“Once or twice.”

“I didn’t think Heaven would have beaches this nice.” Silence behind you, and you turn back to Hyunjae, still smiling. He’s staring at you, his body completely frozen. You can see his body shaking, the liquid in his glass sloshing up the sides. You take the glass and the bottle from his hands, setting both on the table beside him. Tears are beginning to wet his cheeks, and you reach forward to wipe them away. 

“I didn’t…I’m so, so sorry little bug.” His voice cracks and the tears keep falling. 

“Jae, you knew it would happen eventually. I did too. That’s just…I just got the shit end of the stick in this life.” You slide closer to him and he lets his eyes close. “Besides, did you really think that I believed you had really good skincare? For almost twenty years?” 

Hyunjae wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you as close as he possibly could. You let him hold you, you let him whisper his apologies, and his regrets, and his whispers of I love you, I adore you, I’m sorry this happened before I got to show you the world. You just smile, running your fingers through his hair and rubbing his shoulders. 

When he pulls away from you at last, his cheeks are red and stained with tears. You’re still smiling, assuring him that everything is okay. 

“So,” you raise the two glasses of champagne and hand him one, “what are we toasting?” Hyunjae shakes his head, his smile returning.

“Whatever you want, little bug. Anything you want, I will give you.” You hum, kicking your legs a bit and digging your toes into the sand. 

“Anything, you say?” You wiggle your eyebrows and while he laughs, you know that he means every word. You know what he doesn’t have the strength to say yet. I am yours. You are mine. I will cherish you, adore you, and love you how I should have when you were alive. “Fine then.”

“Have you decided?” He turns toward the beach and you do the same, leaning your head on his shoulder briefly. You feel him flinch when you press your lips to his shoulder blade, where you can feel his wings once were. 

“I have.”

“So?”

“To merry bad endings, and to you for going against what you’d been raised to do, for believing in me and in your brother.” Hyunjae smiles, tipping his glass to yours. A small clink echoes across the beach.

“To merry bad endings.”

~

TAGLIST: @hyunjaespresent-deobi @just-here-to-read-01

[cf-377]

JAKE - boyfriend

It's crazy how crazy I am about you.

Jake!fem/reader

Date at the cinema.. and a kiss🤭

:tell me if yall want a serie I really want to do one so bad 🤔 (jk I already started at one😃)

⚠️OFF TOPIC - NEED TO BE READ IF YALL DONT WANT TO WAIST MONEY AND ITS 100%FREE⚠️

I do not use Spotify because I will not waist my money on it! But I have another app and it's the best app ever and I want more people to know about the app so they don't waist there money on spotify, the app is called AUDIOMACK and it's not an ad or whatever I really just want yall to use it if yall don't want to waist you're money!🤝🤝 JUST HELPING!!!

The theater is almost silent, only a few others scattered around, but it feels like you and Jake are in your own world. His arm rests over your shoulders, pulling you close. The movie has been playing for a while now, and although you try to focus, you’re too aware of him beside you, his warm presence and the way his thumb gently brushes your shoulder.

Then, on the screen, the two main characters exchange a glance—an unmistakable, lingering gaze—and you know what’s coming next. The characters in the movie kiss, slow and intense, the kind that makes everything else disappear.

You feel Jake shift beside you, his fingers freezing for a moment, and you sense his gaze on you. You turn toward him, heart pounding, cheeks already flushed. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering, like he’s thinking about it, feeling the same pull you do. The light from the screen reflects in his eyes, making them look even softer, and he leans in, hesitating just a breath away.

"Is this okay?" he whispers, his voice barely audible, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

You nod, almost forgetting to breathe, feeling like every second is stretched out, heavy with anticipation. Jake’s hand lifts to gently cup your cheek, his touch featherlight but grounding, as his lips meet yours. It’s a soft kiss at first, gentle and cautious, like he’s savoring every detail, like he’s afraid to break the spell. His thumb grazes your cheek, and you feel the warmth of his fingers, his steady presence grounding you.

But as you sink into it, as you respond to him, the kiss deepens, turning into something more raw, more real. His hand slips behind your neck, pulling you closer as if he can’t quite get enough. You lose yourself in the feeling of his lips moving with yours, his gentle yet insistent hold, the way he tastes faintly like popcorn and warmth.

The movie keeps playing in the background, but you’re completely oblivious to it now. All you can focus on is Jake, the way his hand cradles your face, the way his other arm tightens around your shoulder, as if he never wants to let you go. The kiss is intense, raw, as if you’re both pouring every unspoken feeling into it, all the words you haven’t said yet.

When he finally pulls back, just a little, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing unsteady, eyes still closed as he smiles, almost like he’s a bit overwhelmed too. You both stay there, caught up in the magic of the moment, not saying a word, just letting the silence and the warmth between you linger.

"Guess the movie isn’t the only thing I’m falling for tonight," he murmurs, his thumb tracing slow circles on your cheek.

You let out a quiet laugh, feeling the exact same, your fingers still tangled gently in his hair as you whisper, "Maybe we should come to the movies more often." He chuckles, and for a moment, everything just fades away, and it’s just you and him, holding onto a memory that feels like it’s yours forever.

:sorry if it's short!! And ikk there's gonna be a lot of post but because I've been working on them for long so I thought why not post them? Anyways- I hope yall like it and I take req so feel free.❤❤

[not-terezi-pyrope]

"A single fascist purge claims >1 mil lives"

Yall people are so fucking stupid it blows my mind everyday. Australia can enforce their shit rules during covid leading to 9 people on average killing themselves everyday in 2020, at stat I knew off the top of my head, and YOU WON'T NOTICE!

THIS ALREADY HAPPENED, DIP SHIT!

Quarantine was one of the worst things to happen to humanity in ages and ya'll already forgot all the death because you aren't close to your families so you didn't lose anyone. China fucked over their people, let them starve and it took people rioting after a building burnt down with people locked inside for anything to happen. Then once they got rid of their stupid policy, people didn't have any immunity built up to the virus. Morges were filled with bodies, hospitals had to burn corpses that were pilled in the streets. The furnaces broke down from being overused. But no, you didn't notice.

World politics and global warming are just talking points to you. You are so uniformed about the goings ons in the world you keep talking about things that already happened like they a hypothetical.

And maybe I should bake you a cake that says "I'm sorry that the communist counties fuck their people over way harder than the capitalist ones do." Yall were fucked over by how bad the american education system is, and how bad colleges are. Yall, dumb as all hell.

Are you okay buddy. It sounds like you might not be in a good place.

I'm not sure who you think you're talking to right now, but I'm sure not the right audience for it! Can't speak to the "American college system" for one, given that I've never gone to school in America.

Pour one out for anon, I hope that some day they can get out of lockdown truther/red scare circles and also learn what a genocide is.