#i love seeing two losers make each other worse

[ortegahaze]

anyone but you

[part one] | part two | part three | part four |

pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

synopsis: Tara and you, despite having mutual friends, have never met—until a Blackmore University fraternity party brings your paths together. The night is amazing, but the next morning is a disaster, and both of you hope never to see each other again. What you didn’t anticipate is that your best friends are getting married, and now you'll be forced to spend time together at their destination wedding.

warnings: no ghostface au, mentions of alcohol, fluff in the beginning, angst, bad writing, language, slight change in characters' age, mentions of a dead parent, “enemies” to lovers!

a/n: yes yes, totally inspired by the movie anyone but you, if you haven’t watched it, there will be spoilers. not sure if i liked this first chapter that much, next ones will be better, i promise🤞🏼

word count: 5,8k

—

Tara Carpenter loved to party, but mostly because she would always attend the fraternity houses’ parties with her friends who also attended Blackmore University. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that all her usual companions decided to skip the party tonight without bothering to tell her until the last minute.

There she was, dressed up as a pirate, frowning at her phone where her friends’ messages popped up, saying they wouldn’t be going. That was it—the start of a terrible Friday night. She considered going back home, feeling like a sad loser. But she knew exactly what awaited her there: Sam and Danny probably making out on the couch—or worse. Huffing, she shoved her phone into her back pocket, mustering the courage to enter the Omega Kappa Beta party by herself.

The music was loud, but good. Everyone was enjoying it with red cups held high. She made her way to the trashed kitchen, searching for something strong to help her loosen up and forget that her best friends had abandoned her for the night.

After three cups, she was already stumbling. The loud bass thumped through her chest, her head spinning just enough to make her a bit queasy. Needing a break, she headed for the pool area, which seemed quieter and less chaotic.

She slumped down onto one of the chairs, letting the cool night air hit her face. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster, but it sure wasn’t the wild, fun night she had imagined. She closed her eyes, the alcohol swirling in her system, trying to relax.

“Tara?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw a guy standing beside her. He had a kind of frat-boy look—probably one of the OKB members. Despite being a sophomore law student, Tara had never bothered to learn the names of these guys.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, squinting against the pool lights.

“You good?” the guy asked, concern creasing his forehead.

“Yeah, just… letting the alcohol wear off.” She slurred slightly, trying to sound more sober than she felt. The guy didn’t seem convinced but smiled anyway, offering his hand.

“I’m Frankie,” he said.

She hesitated before shaking his hand, her mind sluggish but wary. “Tara,” she replied.

He motioned toward the house. “You want some water? I can grab some for you in the kitchen.”

She nodded, standing up to follow him. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” she mumbled. Something felt off, but she pushed the thought away, blaming the alcohol for making her overly cautious.

As they walked back toward the house, she noticed fewer people by the pool. It was quieter, the conversations distant. That’s when Frankie spoke up again. “You know what? I have a minibar in my room. We can grab water there, and you can use the bathroom too if you need it.”

Tara’s stomach dropped. The convenient offer set off alarm bells in her head, her instincts kicking in despite the fog of alcohol. Why was he suddenly suggesting his room?

Before she could respond, someone stepped up next to Frankie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, babe. I was looking for you! I finished my set for the night. We can go home now,” the stranger said smoothly.

She blinked, processing the situation. What?

Frankie glanced at the newcomer’s hand, visibly confused. “Uh…”

“I can see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Frankie,” the stranger continued with a casual smile. “That’s great, but we’ve gotta go now. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, so I think it’s time we head out. Thanks for taking care of her while I was working tonight.”

Tara felt the stranger’s arm slip around her shoulder. The warmth and casualness of the embrace was oddly comforting, even though she had no idea who this person was. Still, she went along with the act, instincts telling her to trust this stranger over Frankie.

“Yeah, thanks, Frankie,” Tara echoed awkwardly. “We… uh… have to get going.”

Intertwining her fingers with the stranger’s, Tara took the first step, guiding them away from Frankie. Her heart raced—not from fear, but from the strangeness of the whole situation. She wasn’t used to needing to be rescued, especially not by someone who appeared out of nowhere.

When they were far enough from Frankie and back in the kitchen, Tara dropped the stranger’s hand. “Thank you… That was really nice of you.”

“Happy to help,” you replied, rummaging through the fridge. “Frankie’s not the type to handle rejection well, if you know what I mean… and by the look on your face, you were about to reject him.”

Tara flushed, embarrassment creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being seen as vulnerable. She hated feeling like she couldn’t handle herself. “Yeah, I was,” she admitted, brushing off her embarrassment with a small smile. “Thanks again.”

The stranger turned around, holding a bottle of water. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You extended a hand.

She shook it, noticing how your grip was firm yet gentle. “I’m Tara,” she replied, her voice a little quieter this time. She found herself holding onto your hand for a bit too long before quickly letting go, feeling the touch linger longer than it should have. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Uh, is there a bathroom around here?”

You pointed down the hallway. “Yeah, just down there.”

“Thanks,” Tara muttered, handing over the water and heading to the bathroom. Leaving you confused as you stand there with her water. Waiting.

She shut the door behind her and sat on the toilet seat, immediately pulling out her phone while peeing. Her fingers trembled slightly, the adrenaline of the night still buzzing through her as she quickly dialed Mindy. When Mindy picked up, Tara didn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Mindy, I just met this person, and I don’t know… It was something. They saved me from what could’ve been a really messy situation. But like… now what? I don’t even know them, but there was this… connection? Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.” Tara paused, shaking her head at her own words. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”

Tara finished washing her hands and looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes staring back. She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers lightly over her fringe, as if steadying herself. "Okay," she whispered, gathering her resolve.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she navigated back toward the kitchen, dodging a couple passionately making out near the door, grimacing slightly as she passed them. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked onto yours, and she couldn’t help but smile awkwardly when you handed her the bottle of water.

“Your water,” you said, grinning.

“Thanks.” She took it, and for a moment, the two of you held each other’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. You started to say something, but she beat you to it, breaking the silence with a small, resigned smile.

“Well, I think I should call it a night,” she said with a soft sigh. “I’ve had my share of excitement.”

Your smile faltered just a bit, but you quickly recovered, masking any disappointment. As she moved to leave, you hesitated, your mind racing. You turned, watching her head toward the entrance, and something compelled you to act.

“Hey…” you called, stepping quickly after her. She paused, turning with a curious look.

“So, are you gonna ask me out now?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she interrupted whatever you’d been about to say. Her comment took you by surprise, but you broke into a smile, catching onto the playful challenge in her tone.

“Yeah,” you replied, mirroring her smile. “Yeah, I am.” You both shared a quick laugh, then walked toward the door together, side by side.

As you walked out into the night, Tara looked up at you, her curiosity piqued. “You know… I go to a lot of these parties. How come I’ve never seen you around?”

Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you chuckled. “I’m not a student anymore. Graduated last year, but a friend of mine who still goes here got me to DJ tonight.” You let out a wry laugh. “Of course, he didn’t even bother showing up.”

She smirked. “Oh, sounds familiar. My friends did the same to me tonight.”

The streets were mostly empty, with the city’s usual hum softened at this late hour. Streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked, and a few blocks away from the chaos of the party, Tara seemed more grounded, though her steps were still a bit unsteady from the alcohol.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked alongside her. “What about you? What do you study?”

Tara hugged herself, more from a sense of vulnerability than the chill in the air. She glanced over at you, her expression guarded but curious. “I study law.” she replied, then added reluctantly. Her voice had an almost clipped quality, and you noticed the way she quickly redirected the conversation. “And you? What’s your story?”

Noticing her attempt to shift the topic, you chuckled. “I started out in computer science. That’s what my parents wanted, and it sounded like a solid career, so I went with it for a while. Did a couple of semesters.”

“Computer science?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Didn’t peg you for the type to spend your days coding.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, giving her a wry smile. “Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I switched over to music production—that’s what I’d always wanted to do anyway.”

She nodded, seemingly intrigued despite herself. “I bet your parents weren’t thrilled with the change, huh?”

You shrugged, eyes on the sidewalk ahead. “Not at first. But eventually, they came around. And if worse comes to worst, I can always fall back on tech if I need to.”

Tara’s interest was clearly piqued as she glanced at you thoughtfully. “So, you just sit in a studio with those fancy soundboards?”

You laughed. “Something like that. Mostly, though, it’s me with my laptop, some recording equipment, and way too much caffeine. But I love it—taking random sounds and turning them into something people can connect to.”

She seemed to admire your passion, though she tried to keep her expression casual. “Sounds like you actually went after what you wanted,” she mused, almost to herself.

You smiled at her comment, feeling the quiet camaraderie that had formed between you. “So… you want to keep hanging out for a bit? My place isn’t far from here. I’d offer coffee, but it’s a bit late for that. I make a killer grilled cheese, though.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, both surprised and amused. “Inviting a girl you just met over for grilled cheese? That’s bold.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, grinning. “I like to think so. But no pressure. If you’d rather call it a night, I get it.”

She paused, considering the offer. The sincerity in your expression was unmistakable, and after the strange night she’d had, she found herself craving something simple, something real. With a nod, she finally agreed, letting a genuine smile slip through.

“Alright,” she replied, matching your smile with a smirk. “Let’s see if you’ve got any real culinary skills.”

The two of you continued down the quiet streets, the city’s glow casting a soft light as you walked together. The conversation flowed easily, shifting from one topic to the next as you shared bits and pieces of yourselves.

The conversation moved from childhood stories to other random facts—Tara mentioned she used to collect keychains, and you told her about the time you accidentally broke into the wrong apartment while trying to help a neighbor. The night air carried your laughter, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of traffic.

—

The two of you stood near the kitchen counter, your movements methodical as you crafted the grilled cheese the way you always did—spreading butter on the bread and layering two slices of cheese. After adding butter to the skillet, you waited for it to melt before placing the sandwich on it, flipping it with the spatula as it browned.

Tara’s eyes wandered around your warehouse-turned-apartment, taking in the cozy but modest space. Music equipment cluttered one corner, while old vinyl records filled the shelves along the walls. She leaned against the counter, her gaze shifting between you and the space, but lingering mostly on you.

“So,” she asked with a playful smirk, “do you invite strangers over for late-night sandwiches often?”

Without looking up from the stove, you chuckled. “Only the ones who look like they’d appreciate my culinary skills. You seemed like the type.”

She rolled her eyes, but a cute smile played on her lips, you could even see her dimples clearly.

As you flipped the sandwich again, the smell filled the small kitchen, and Tara found herself relaxing, slowly letting her guard down in this oddly comforting moment. It had been a long time since she’d experienced a night that felt spontaneous, even a little reckless.

When the sandwich was done, you cut it in half and handed it to her on a plate. “Wait to cool down—” Almost immediately, she bit into it, only to wince and fan her mouth.

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot!” she exclaimed, laughing through the pain between painful chews.

You stifled a laugh. “I literally just took it off the stove. What did you expect?”

“Oh, my God.”

“If you’re gonna be a lawyer, you gotta understand negligence and breach and…” She furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look up at you. “McDonald’s versus that lady’s…” You locked eyes with her, noticing her judgmental look. “Habeas corpus.”

Tara chuckled, swallowing carefully. “You absolutely just butchered those terms,” she said, narrowing her eyes and shooting you a mock glare. “Maybe I should represent you in a case against yourself.”

You were both facing each other, holding eye contact as you playfully teased her. “How do you know? You’re not a lawyer yet.” She gave you a disbelieving look. “It’s not too late to choose a more noble profession!”

“Oh, like you?” She nodded toward the computer desk you’d left on from working earlier. You took a bite of the sandwich and followed her gaze.

“You know what? You’re right. Stick with it. I’m gonna need a lawyer to read my contracts at some point.” She chuckled softly. Looking back at her, you smiled.

The two of you stood there, the playful banter bringing warmth to the room that neither of you had expected. She chewed more carefully now, and as she finished the bite, her gaze softened.

“I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer,” Tara blurted, almost as if she hadn't meant to. She stared at the half-eaten sandwich in her hands, looking embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

You paused, unsure how to respond, but instead of words, you gently reached out and wiped a bit of cheese from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The gesture was intimate, more so than you’d intended, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow quieter.

She sighed, her voice dropping. “My mom’s a lawyer. I thought maybe if I followed in her footsteps, things would make sense. But… I feel like it isn’t really me.”

There was a small silence, but instead of pressing, you just gave her a supportive nod. “You don’t have to figure it all out now.”

She smiled gratefully and took another bite, the tension lifting again as you both relaxed into the conversation. The two of you laughed, easing the awkwardness. You took another bite, an unconscious smile lingering on your face. With Tara around, you almost felt like a different person. She brushed the back of her hand where yours had touched, glancing back at you.

“I’m sorry… My life is a disaster right now.”

“Might be turning a corner,” you shrugged, showing compassion for her struggle, making eye contact again. “You just met me!”

Tara grinned. “Yeah, or I could end up in a suitcase.” You chuckled. “I mean… you’ve got some, uh, serial killer vibes going on here. Why do you have a giant wrench?” She pointed to the large wrench sitting on the vinyl rack. You looked at it and smiled.

“Okay, harsh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It wouldn’t be a suitcase. It would be a carry-on, thank you very much. You’re about zero feet tall,” you teased, referencing her small stature. She shot you a light glare, making you smile. You glanced back at the wrench. “And my mom gave me that.” At this, Tara raised her eyebrows, paying closer attention. “It’s a reminder that no matter how broken something is, there’s always a way to fix it.”

She nodded at your words, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes briefly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m talking to you about my mom right now.” You squinted and shook your head, letting out a small chuckle.

Vulnerability hit you for a moment. You weren’t one to share much about your late mother with friends, let alone 'strangers' like Tara, but something about her made you feel at ease—like you could talk about the topic that usually tightened your chest.

Tara’s gaze softened. “No worries. That’s actually kind of sweet,” she smiled gently. “Now, tell me about that!” She pointed to an ATM machine in the corner, raising an eyebrow.

You smiled and nodded at the machine, which was in perfect condition, the screen still on. “That… is a long story!” You put your sandwich back on the plate and noticed her frowning at you. “Everybody survived!”

“Great!” She laughed, and you followed, the sound echoing through the small apartment. As the laughter died down, Tara took a deep breath, savoring the moment. She felt unexpectedly comfortable there—with you, in your quirky apartment, and with the smell of burnt cheese still lingering in the air.

In your mind, maybe that was the moment you started to hear romantic background music. You bickered and laughed together, even sharing a few silly dance moves in the kitchen after getting some water.

Tara eventually curled up on the sofa as you cleaned up the counter, chatting and laughing loudly from across the room. She teased you about your random quirks, and you responded with good-natured jabs, both of you secretly enjoying the strange, comforting ease. It didn’t take long for you to join her on the couch.

Letting the night unfold, an unexpected bond formed over random topics. Tara eventually settled on your lap, your hands resting on the skin of her waist beneath her silky shirt, facing you. The laughter slowly faded into quieter moments, one of you wrapped around the other. Lingering glances and more meaningful conversations pulled you closer until you both drifted off as dawn approached, feeling more at home than you had in a long time.

Soft morning light filtered through the large living room windows, casting a warm glow across the loft. Tara stirred and blinked awake, feeling a warm weight around her shoulders and waist. She found herself nestled against you, your arm draped over her, your breathing steady and calm.

But the quiet, comfortable intimacy triggered a rush of anxiety in her. Nudging her to move before things got too complicated. She knew she should say something, but no words came, and a sense of urgency pushed her to leave before things got more tangled.

Carefully, she slipped out from under your arm, holding her breath to keep from waking you. With deliberate silence, she stood up to put her shoes on, but one slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, betraying her. She winced and glanced back quickly, not seeing you stir from where she stood.

Your eyes blinked open as you took in the empty space beside you. You craned your neck toward the noise that had woken you, and your expression shifted from confusion to quiet disappointment as you watched her getting ready to leave without so much as a backward glance or goodbye. You held back the urge to say something, but the silence in the room felt suddenly heavy, filled with words left unsaid.

She walked down the stairs to the door, and as it clicked shut behind her, Tara hesitated for the briefest second, almost turning back. But then the weight of the moment became too much to bear. Meanwhile, you leaned back on the couch, staring at the empty space for a long moment, letting the silence settle over you like a heavy blanket.

Eventually, you got up, grabbing fresh clothes to wear before heading back to the living room. You tried to shake Tara from your mind, still feeling the ache of her sudden departure. But as you looked at the wrench, you almost stopped in your tracks. You walked over to it, picking it up in your hands and recalling how you had shared a part of your story that only your close friends knew. You thought Tara would stick around, at least for a while.

You didn’t have much more quiet time for introspection before you heard the door open. You turned your head so fast at the sound that you felt a slight disappointment upon realizing it was only your best friend.

His voice echoed up the stairs. “Yo, let's go, Y/N/N! Come on, cupcake! We’re gonna be late!”

“S'up, C?” You sat down in your computer desk chair, still not fully giving him your attention.

Chad stepped inside with his usual boisterous energy, walking around and dropping his bike helmet on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the skillet on the stove, noticing the remnants of last night's grilled cheese.

“Whoa. Did you cook? Wait… did you bring home a girl to stay over?” you didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the large wrench in your hands, turning it over absentmindedly. Chad moved closer, munching on a leftover piece of grilled cheese as he gave you a puzzled look.

“Dude, what are you doing with that? Why do you have the giant wrench?” He took it from your hands, examining it. After a few seconds, he pieced it together. “Wait—You told her about your mom, bro? You never talk about your mom with anyone.” His tone softened.

You looked toward the door that he left open, a pained smile crossing your face as you didn’t disagree with his assumptions. “Yeah, I did. Not sure what I was thinking.”

Chad let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “Fuck. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? You’re in love!” He put the tool back in its place and turned back to you. “About freaking time, too. You’re totally in love!” He squealed the last part, unable to contain his excitement.

Trying to brush it off, you shook your head, a hint of bitterness coloring your tone. “Fuck that. Not that it matters. I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” You looked at him with a straight face, attempting to mask the sting of your words. “This girl’s a disaster… she’s a nothing.”

—

Minutes before slipping out of the house, Tara walked along the quiet sidewalk, pulling her phone from her pocket as she dialed Mindy. The line barely rang before Mindy picked up, her voice tinged with early morning sleepiness.

“Tara? What’s going on?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry to wake you. I just… I don’t know. Remember the person I met last night? They’re… so fucking great, Mindy. We kind of walked around the city, talked, and, I don’t know, we spent the night together and fell asleep talking. It felt… different. Like I didn’t have to keep my guard up.”

“Oh, it was like that, huh?” Mindy’s voice perked up, her interest piqued. “So, what happened after all that?”

A silence stretched between them as Tara paused on the sidewalk. She hesitated, her expression clouded with uncertainty. “I… I left before they woke up.”

Mindy groaned on the other end of the line. “What??? You’re kidding. Why would you just bail? If they’re as great as you’re saying…”

“I don’t know why! Why did I?” Tara blurted, stopping mid-step and glancing back in the direction she’d come from. “What the fuck am I doing? Should I go back?”

“Seems like you already know the answer,” Mindy said gently. “Just go! Find out what this is.”

“Okay, I love you. Bye!” Tara managed a small smile. “I'm so sorry I woke you up. This whole thing is so new to me. Bye!” Her footsteps quickened as she retraced her steps to the building.

“I love you, T. You’ve got this.” Mindy smiled before hanging up, hurrying her steps.

As Tara approached the door, she noticed it was open. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Chad’s familiar voice from inside. His back was facing her, so she didn’t know who the guy was. She certainly wasn’t prepared to hear your sharper tone following in disagreement about you being in love.

“I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” “This girl’s a disaster… She’s a nothing.”

The words landed with a crushing weight, stealing her breath and pinning her to the spot. She felt her chest tighten, a surge of hurt and anger rising within her as she turned on her heel and walked away, quickening her pace as if the farther she got, the less it would hurt. She’d let herself be vulnerable, just for a moment, and this was what it had gotten her.

She didn’t stop until she rounded the corner, the city coming to life around her—a stark reminder of the distance she intended to keep. She had allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could be different. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

—

Six months had passed since that fateful night, and neither you nor Tara had crossed each other’s paths again. The silence between you both was deafening, leaving nothing but the bitter ache of unfinished business. You had carried on, pretending that the encounter hadn’t left a mark, but you couldn’t shake the lingering memory of Tara slipping away without a word. Each time you tried to forget, the night resurfaced—like a song stuck on repeat. Every quiet moment felt like a reminder that you’d let something slip through your fingers, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

Tara, on the other hand, had moved on—at least, that’s what she told herself. She had rekindled her relationship with Wes, her first love, and now she was engaged to him once again. There was comfort in the familiar, in the steady future she thought they were meant to have. Yet, sometimes, late at night, when she was alone, Tara’s mind wandered back to that night with you. She hated herself for it. She’d tell herself it had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, but that didn’t stop the quiet tug in her chest—a reminder of vulnerability, of something she couldn’t fully ignore. And so, she buried it deeper, clinging to Wes and the life they were building.

Still, neither of you had expected to meet again—until tonight.

The bar was alive with energy, the thrum of chatter and laughter filling the space. Mindy and Anika had orchestrated the night, inviting everyone out for a casual reunion. You and Chad arrived a little late, fresh from a lively Korean dinner, your usual laid-back attitude masking the subtle undercurrent of tension that had become all too familiar since that night. As you made your way through the bar, exchanging handshakes and hugs, your attention briefly flitted to the crowd. Anika grinned, subtly pointing out a group of attractive girls seated near the bar.

You raised an eyebrow and nudged Chad. “Looks like there’s potential,” you joked, but the moment was fleeting.

Across the room, Tara had just stepped through the door, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted her best friend waving her over. She smiled, though it faltered when her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd. Something about tonight felt off—familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place.

Mindy greeted her enthusiastically. “Tara! Get over here!” she called. Tara made her way over, her steps slowing slightly as her gaze settled on Chad… and then it clicked. You were there. Her pulse quickened.

Chad wrapped her in a hug before Mindy nudged him aside, beaming as she gestured between you and Tara. “Y/N, come say hi!” she called, oblivious to the growing tension. “Tara, meet one of my dearest childhood friends,” Anika added with a smile, making it clear that you and she shared a long history.

The second your eyes met Tara’s, the world seemed to stop. For a fleeting moment, neither of you moved, both taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. Tara’s chest tightened. How had you ended up here? She didn’t need this. Not tonight.

Your face hardened, instinctively putting up a wall. “Hey,” you said, your voice flat.

She crossed her arms, her tone equally sharp. “Yeah.”

Mindy’s brows shot up. “Wait, do you two… know each other?”

You answered too quickly. “We’ve met.”

“Barely.” Tara’s reply came just as fast. Her eyes narrowed, the distance between you two palpable.

Anika blinked in surprise. “That’s so random.”

Tara, visibly uncomfortable, nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, ready to escape.

You couldn’t resist the smirk forming on your lips. “If you’re looking to sneak out, the exit’s that way. I know that’s kinda your thing.”

The law student spun back to face you, her smile cold. “Well, I am a disaster, right?” Her words were laced with venom, a bitter jab that struck deeper than either of you cared to admit.

The group fell into an uneasy silence, but it didn’t last long. Chad, Anika, and Mindy exchanged wary glances before Mindy spoke up, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Okay! Let’s… let’s move on from this.”

Anika quickly chimed in, “Yeah, let’s head back to the table,” motioning for Chad to follow, though their eyes never left the tension between you and Tara.

You faced each other, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging in the air. The banter between you both was sharp, but beneath it, something more vulnerable flickered. There had once been something here, something deeper than either of you wanted to admit, and even now, in the harshness of your words, that connection lingered—bitter but undeniable.

You leaned in, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So, you a lawyer yet?”

Tara’s arms crossed defensively, her eyes narrowing, trying to shield herself from whatever it was you made her feel. “Why? Do you need a defense attorney?”

“I’m just curious how you passed that class on ethics,” you shot back, your tone cutting but with a hint of something softer beneath the surface. “You know, with all the bailing you do on people.”

Her jaw tightened, but something in her eyes flickered—something that said she understood exactly what you meant. It stung, more than either of you would let on.

Meanwhile, at the table, Chad plopped down, looking confused as ever. Mindy snorted, leaning back in her seat, her eyes darting between you and Tara. “I think that’s the alleged jerk who T got with when she was on her break from Wes.”

Anika’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “No way. So T’s the party girl who ghosted them?”

Chad, still lost in thought, nodded slowly. “I thought she looked familiar when I saw her that day… but, you know, I don’t really see faces. I just see souls.”

Anika chuckled softly, shaking her head. “At least they made her realize Wes was the one, right?”

Back at the war field where you and Tara stood, the tension reached a boiling point. Tara’s jaw clenched as she held her left hand up, displaying the ring—a symbol of the life she was trying so hard to convince herself she wanted. “I’m engaged now,” she said sharply, the words coming out more like a challenge than a statement.

Your expression barely flickered, but deep down, something twisted inside—a pang of something you refused to name. “Good for you,” you replied, forcing a dry smile. “Where are you registered? I’ll buy you a broomstick.”

She scoffed, but her smile was tight, forced. “I’ll send you an invite. You still live at 28 Fuckboy Lane?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, shaking your head. “You do remember. See, it did mean something to you.”

For a moment, something dark and raw flickered in Tara’s eyes, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper filled with venom and regret. “You’ll always be my rock bottom. The night I spent with a bitch.”

Across the bar, Chad squinted, trying to make sense of the distant conversation. “Did she just call Y/N a bitch?”

Anika leaned closer to Mindy, whispering, “Do you think they’re going to physically fight?”

Mindy smirked, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Or fuck. That’s a fine line.”

Back at the standoff, Tara’s words softened, though the bitterness still lingered. “Let’s just get through tonight for them, okay?”

You gave her a slow nod, your face unreadable but your heart tight. “Fine. I’m getting a drink, and I’ll toast to never seeing you again.” Your words were sharp, but the way you leaned closer, the tension buzzing between you, said otherwise.

Tara met your eyes, her lips curling into a slight, almost playful smile. “Cheers to that, bro.”

You were nearly nose-to-nose, the heat of your proximity almost suffocating when Mindy, Anika, and Chad appeared at your sides, gently pulling you both out of the intensity of the moment.

Mindy spoke first, her voice cutting through the tension with excitement. “Hey, guys, listen up. We actually have some big news.”

Anika’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed Mindy’s hand. “Hey, so the reason we brought you all together—we’re getting married. In Australia. And you’re all coming with us!” The couple squealed frantically.

Both you and Tara blinked in shock, the animosity between you momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of weight. Australia. A wedding. A trip where you would all be together—where you would have to see each other, to deal with everything that still lay between you. There was no running from it now. You were bound by your friends, by the promises of a wedding that would force you both to face what had been left unresolved.

The room seemed to close in, and though the words hung unsaid, you both knew that this was only the beginning of a confrontation you couldn’t escape. For better or worse, you were going to have to deal with each other—whether you liked it or not.

[winterrain-11]

some more gravity falls hcs :3

(a lot of these are sad)

cw for drug use, mentions of abuse, major character death, and other such depressing things

- mabel starts swearing like a sailor after the summer (ik that stan made an effort not to swear around the kids, but i don’t think ford did, and it made stan’s filter slip more) and gets in trouble for it at home. when stan finds out he tries to hard to pretend to be mad but he’s lowkey proud

- the twins have to fight tooth and nail to teach their grunkles to use a cellphone, especially facetime. they eventually get the hang of it, but the first few months at sea were two hour facetimes of the grunkle’s chins just bickering at each other and assorted “how’s it hanging pumpkin? how’s school?”

- stan and ford watched westerns nonstop as kids (though ford was more into star trek and doctor who) and they played cowboys often. stan was OBSESSED with cowboys and briefly tried to work as a ranch hand while he was homeless in his 20s

- dipper and mabel have a love/hate relationship with cw’s supernatural. mabel thinks the boys are hot and is definitely a destiel shipper. dipper loves the genuine supernatural-ness of the early seasons and now still watches it kind of as a joke but also because mabel got him on the destiel train. the last two episodes ruined their lives.

- the twins have opposite reactions to weed. it makes ford’s paranoia really bad and makes him nauseous, but it makes stan’s adhd brain quiet for once and allows him to relax for once. when dipper and mabel get older, they have very similar reactions. when stan catches mabel smoking, he tries to be responsible about it and tell her that smoking is bad for her and to not end up like him, but eventually they just smoke together on occasion.

- mabel is significantly better at guessing plot twists than dipper (in books, movies etc) and dipper DESPISES this fact (i think it’s the same for the stan twins too tbh)

- stan dies first, ford dies almost exactly a year later.

- stan picks up guitar while he’s homeless, uses it to make a bit of money on street sides. he teaches mabel in her teen years when his hands get to old to play.

- when ford and fiddleford rekindle, stan and fiddleford bond over regaining memory. they both relearn their instruments together (guitar and banjo respectively) and enjoy singing along to old outlaw country and appalachian folk rock (stan picked it up in his travels).

- (cont.) ford suggests music because it’s known to help dementia and alzheimer’s patients with regaining memories, and while that’s true, he really more just enjoys seeing his two favorite people happy again.

- both ford and stan think the other voted for trump (2016), neither of them did. stan thought hilary was hot (and thought trump was a loser) and ford voted third party (sorry he gives me centrist vibes). i imagine they both vote dem in 2020 and 2024 because they see trump as a much worse conman/asshole and a narcissistic sociopath respectively.

- (cont.) the twins have heard the stan’s complain about the other’s political ideologies and know that they vote the same but refuse to tell the other. wendy is also in on this and they all have to tackle soos on several occasions to keep him quiet before election day.

- nate and lee definitely explored each other’s bodies and when they finally came out to the friend group everyone was super confused because they assumed that they had been dating for years

- ford has a very addictive personality. while stanley does too, he can restrain himself (doesn’t smoke or drink around the kids, doesn’t lose himself in gambling), ford picks up smoking on the stan-o-war II and doesn’t stop until he dies. Stan has refused to go to Vegas with him even though ford begs, but stan knows an addict when he sees one. ford never acknowledges his problem.

- stan doesn’t tell ford about his homelessness and abuse at the hands of his father/pimps/drug lords until they’re several months deep on the stan-o-war II and certain things start to trigger his PTSD. Ford listens and opens up about his abuse under Bill and his life of crime in the multiverse. they definitely cry together for a long time.

- (cont.) Stan only tells the kids when they’re in college. mabel self destructs a bit during this period trying desperately to find herself and stan is terrified that she’ll go down his path of dangerous desperation for self-worth and wants her to know that he knows how she feels, they grow even closer because of this.

- stan did drag for a short period of time around the southwest in his homelessness. at first he was forced to do it to be degraded, but once he got his autonomy back, he began to do it on his own accord and really enjoyed it/was really good at it. he tried to convince himself that ‘he wasn’t queer or anything’ and was just doing it for the money, but he never really fully believed that. (where he learned to wear a girdle)

- once again. stan wanted to be a cowboy so bad okay i know this in my heart of hearts. this man LOVES clint eastwood and johnny cash and RAHHHH i know it.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hi! Hope you’re having a wonderful day u deserve it after feeding us all this Stans content! I wanted to rq a little smutty fic where Reader was Fords assistant/friend pre portal and after stays with Stanley to help fix it. They start to slowly fall for each other and eventually confessions and smut ensue! Tysm!

A/n: 10 outa 10... I love it.

Part of 1 of 2

It was an agonizing site, seeing your boss and best friend just vanish before your eyes. It felt even worse when you heard his brother's anguished cries banging on the portal.

Gritting your teeth, you knew it wasn't his fault. You couldn't blame Stan. Quickly brushing your stray tears away, you grasped Stan's arm tugging him away from the down portal. "Come on...I need to clean out that burn before it get's infected."

He didn't protest, he didn't have the will to even try and push you away.

Sitting on the edge of the toilet seat, Stan hissed as you gently cleaned the burn wound on his back, he couldn't even look you in eyes. "So much for a first impression." He gave you a weak smile then adverted his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize Stan"

Stan parted his lips, then quickly closed them his nails digging into his palm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Week's turned into month's as you and Stanley tried your best to fix the portal though you knew what was wrong, why it wouldn't work. Finding the man asleep on the ground clutching one of the journal your heart clenched at the sight. Taking a breath you woke him then helped him to his feet. "Let's get you to a real bed Stanley."

It wasn't that difficult, you've dealt with worse when you helped Ford. Helping him into the bed, you were about to leave until he snatched your wrist.

"Please....stay."

"Okay." Sitting next to him on the bed, you weren't quite sure what happened. One moment you two were talking and then he was kissing you. Everything was screaming at you to push him off of you, slap him, run away because weren't you waiting to confess to Ford?

But then why did it feel good to kiss him...why did it feel right?

Ford didn't occupy your dreams anymore, Stan did.

Stan was the one that made you laugh, that did his best to keep your spirit up when his was so low. He'd alway's try to reassure you, that he'd make it right.

No you wanted this...you wanted Stan and he wanted you.

Melting into the kiss, you felt his hand move to your hip pushing you down on the bed. Your shirt was the first thing to go, followed by your skirt. You couldn't help but be nervous under Stan's stare.

His hands gliding across your body, mapping out your curves as he finally slipped his hands into your own giving them a squeeze. "Beautiful."

You don't know when he gotten naked and you honestly didn't care.

Stanley's heart raced with unbridled desire as he drank in the tantalizing sight of you, body thrumming with anticipation. He couldn't believe this was happening to him, how could he be this lucky to have someone as wonderful as you want a loser like him?

He then captured your lips in another searing, possessive kiss as he positioned himself between your welcoming legs.

"Thank you," he rasped, voice thick with lust, nerves as he gave your hand another squeeze.

Bracing himself above you, he guided his throbbing length to your slick, receptive entrance. With a firm, deliberate thrust, he sheathed himself inside your silken heat, eliciting a strangled moan from both of them.

Hips rolling in a steady, punishing rhythm, Stan lavished your neck and chest with biting kisses and nips. His hands still holding yours as he did his best to savor this moment.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, Stan focused solely on bringing his lover the utmost pleasure. His world narrowed to the feel of your body writhing beneath his, the sounds of your mingled cries of rapture, and the overwhelming need to make this moment last.

His face nuzzling into your neck as he gave you praise after praise. The stubble tickling you, his hair framing his face. You couldn't look away, not when he looked so good, he was looking down at you with so much care...so much love.

Though it was a particular hard thrust from Stan that had you seeing stars, his name torn from your throat as your leg wrapped tightly around his hips.

Stan let out a guttural groan as your walls clamped down around him, your body trembling with the force of your climax. The sensation was pure, unadulterated bliss, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through his every nerve.

"That's it" he rasped, his hips continuing their relentless rhythm. God he was so close.

He watched, utterly enthralled, as you came undone beneath him - your gorgeous features twisted in ecstasy, your body writhing and shuddering with the force of your release.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful," Stan growled, he could feel the familiar coil of heat building in the pit of his stomach, his own release fast approaching.

With a few more desperate, piston-like thrusts, Stan found his own climax crashing over him in powerful waves. His vision went white as his body tensed, every muscle straining as he spilled himself deep inside your quivering heat.

He collapsed on top of your, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Stan gazed down at you, his eyes shining with adoration and reverence. "You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, a roguish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth until he nuzzled his face into your neck as his own body shook. "I think I love you."

Letting out a tired laugh, you ran your fingers through his hair. "I think I love you too....Stanley Pines."

[eydi-andrius]

Sore Loser (Love and Deepspace Characters x F!Reader)

Synopsis: After a very shitty day, you thought playing Kitty Cards with him will make your day better.

A/N: Girl, I hate this damn game. Lmaoooooo!

🗡️ Xavier 🗡️

Xavier didn't mean anything from it. He was just playing by the rules of the game, using his advance cards to parry and block your attempt to stop him from freezing your turn, four times by now. He was so focused on the game that he did not notice how your face became harder, and your eyes stared coldly at the board, now filled mostly with Xavier’s number cards. His kitties were cheering for him, and you watched helplessly as your kitties cried from defeat.

“That was a good game.” Xavier smiled to himself, as he saw how the game ended beautifully for him. He saved up as many good advance cards and used them at the right moment. He was so proud of himself and he can't wait to see your face. You usually analyze how he won, and take notes of what you did wrong. However, when he looked up, his joyous face turned down, and his heartbeat quickened when he saw how cold and mad you were. Your anger wasn't directed at him, instead, you were staring at the board coldly. But he knew at that time, he fucked up.

“I’m tired of this stupid game.” The chair scraped the floor, as you stood up so fast and grabbed your coat, placed atop the top rail.

“Hey wait!” He tried to stop you from walking out but he accidentally bumped into the board, almost toppling the cups and kitties over. In panic, he tried to support the wobbling table, and sighed with relief when it stopped shaking. He tried to find you afterwards, but he lost sight of you.

It has been two days, and as his partner hunter, it shouldn't be impossible for you to meet, but you must have been so mad because whenever he asks of you, you decline his calls and only reply in messages as promptly and professionally as an HR. He tried looking for you on your table, but most of the time, you were out or doing something else, whenever he came over. He was about to give up apologizing and accept his fate that he pissed you off at a game, so bad, you decided to cut him off, when Jenna ordered all the alpha team to meet at the unicorns headquarters for a debrief.

And he was right, you were there, but you were sitting in between two hunters he knew nothing about. He wasn't listening at all, he can always check on the information later, but he was afraid that if you manage to sneak out again this time, your relationship will fall apart and he doesn't like the sound of it, even when it wasn't going to happen because he will make sure of it.

“Let’s talk.” Before you can even stand up from where you were sitting, Xavier immediately moves over in front of you, calling your attention in front of the other hunters, making you unable to turn him down.

“Sorry. I should have known you were playing to enjoy that day. I didn't mean to make you mad. I will make sure to be more sensitive in the future about your needs. I know I can be slow at times, sometimes emotionless, but I don't want to repeat the same mistake and lose your company over a silly game.” Xavier started right after the door closed, leaving the two of you alone together. He looks tired. There were visible dark bags right under his eyes. He must have been torturing himself after you gave him the cold shoulder.

You feel silly now. You were not mad at Xavier for winning. It was just a shitty day and you were just looking forward to having a good day and resting with Xavier at your side, when it seems like even the Kitty Cards were against you. Xavier keeps on getting good cards, and you keep getting the most useless advance and number cards. You sighed and closed your eyes. You shouldn't have run away from him. Now, you made it worse and made him feel like he should tiptoe around your mood, instead of enjoying each other's company in your free time.

“Please, don't. It wasn't like that. I was just annoyed about my day at that time and losing was the final straw for me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that for days. But I wasn't sure how to confront you, especially when I was just acting like a sore loser. Have you not been sleeping well? You have a bag under your eyes.” Worried, you cupped his cheek and moved his face closer to yours, inspecting and noticing how his face looks paler, dry, and tired.

Instead of saying anything, he hums at your touch, and he moves forward, resting his head on your lap.

“Let me take a little sleep. I miss you.” He said before dozing off, and you stroked his hair while he slept.

❄️ Zayne ❄️

Zayne is bad at playing the Kitty Cards game. Due to his fatigue, sometimes he mistook some colors as the same, making his turn score nothing. But today was a bit different. Zayne keeps on winning, and he keeps on using advanced cards that will be fatal on your turn. He steals your advance cards, takes away your good number cards, and freezes your turn. Meanwhile, you keep on getting advanced cards that mean nothing when you have no good cards at hand.

“I win again, huh.” It was obvious that Zayne didn't mean anything from that, other than him wondering why he won again. But maybe you're already at your limit and hearing that made you snap.

“Well good for you. I’m going home.” It was all you have told him before you left him dumbfounded on his seat, leaving him alone at the cafe.

Whatever you did back there was just embarrassing. It was just a game but you took it personally. You're not going to wonder if Zayne refuses to talk to you now, other than being your physician, after that embarrassing display of attitude when you lose. You're not even sure how you're going to talk to him today.

It's your physical exam and it's been two days since you always kept him on read or only replies with emoji. You have to toughen up and apologize. Zayne did not deserve being treated that way.

Upon opening the door to his office, you breathed in, swallowing all the courage you needed. You walked towards the chair and sat in front of him. He was busy typing whatever on his computer, but you know, he already glimpsed on your way, because you felt his heavy stare for a second, before it went back to his task at hand. It didn't take long when he finished and stared you down. It was so awkward and it was at this moment, where you wished to be swallowed down by the earth and be gone. You gulped and opened your mouth to apologize when he started talking first.

“You didn't tell me you were injured that day.” You shivered at the icy tone in his voice. Just like his evol, Zayne can also be cold and scary. He didn't even need for you to emphasize on what he just said, because you already knew what he was talking about. A wanderer caught you off guard hours before meeting Zayne and it scratched your arm. The wound is not that deep, and you already put first aid on it so you never thought about it much, until the small wound did not heal as fast, and almost gave you a fever when it deepens. You realize now that it was the guilt of keeping you're injured to Zayne, and also, being a sore loser from the pain.

“It was very small. I don't want to bother you on your day off so….I kept it.” You squeak, when he glared at you, for being nonchalant about it.

“I don't care if it was my day off. It was my duty to take care of you. I hate it when you lie to me about being fine, when you know too well I can help you.” He continued scolding you, as he inspected the scarring wound, and offensively stared at it.

“I’m really sorry.” Was your only answer, to both, hiding your wound from him and to him receiving the burnt of your pain.

“Also, you can always ask me to switch our cards. I don't mind.” Zayne added as he patched you up.

🧜🏻‍♂️ Rafayel 🧜🏻‍♂️

Rafayel is the ultimate king of petty.

You already know that right from the start but nothing prepares you for the way he massacres you from the game Kitty Cards.

During at the last hurrah of your showdown, Rafayel finally revealed his advance cards, he uses freeze to stop you from playing, uses advance cards that will turn your cup scores into one, kicking out your highest score kitties from the colored cups, and replacing it with his, stealing your deny cards, and using it against you. It was so bad, that on the inside, you felt your blood boil on how cruel it was. If he did it the first time, you would be proud of him, but he’s been winning all the rounds, and every time, it ends up with him brutally winning. His wins hit a nerve and you finally snapped.

“Ha! Please don't cry. Losing isn't that bad.” He said proudly, as Rafayel nodded to himself. He loves teasing you and he enjoys your banter together. He knows at this point, teasing each other is a form of bonding.

He was celebrating his win when he noticed how quiet you were. When he opened his eyes, the smug look on his face dropped and he stopped in his tracks. The look on your face was devastating and he never saw that before. Your scrunched up face, eyes filled with upcoming tears. When both of your eyes met, there seemed like a switch in you, that made you burst into tears. Rafayel, who doesn't know how to handle your outburst, tries his best to console you. But he did not expect that you were still mad at him, so when he tried to hug you, you pushed him away and ran.

Since then, you have refused to reply to his texts. You even muted his calls so you won't have to answer it. Whatever you did that day was so embarrassing that you’d rather sever whatever relationship you have with Rafayel instead of relieving how sore loser you were. It was just a game, and you cried like a baby from it. There were times that you're trying to justify your tears by saying maybe Rafayel’s insults were too much that day, and it was the reason why you burst into tears, but there would be nothing so petty as pushing someone away and running due to losing from a board game.

Sighing, you just accepted that Rafayel will probably stop talking to you. It is what it is as you continue to go on with your day, when your phone blares and a notification about Rafayel being in danger popped up in bold letters. You did not hesitate as you rode your bike and flew to Rafayel’s whereabouts.

You burst through his studio door, and your eyes caught his figure slumped on the floor, leaning to his couch.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did you slip on your paint brushes again?” You asked worriedly, as you touched his shoulder, arms and legs, to see if he injured himself again. You were so worried and kept asking many questions that were meant silently, you were about to unleash the hulk at him for not answering, when you stopped on your tracks when you noticed the frown on his forehead and his glare.

“Really? Do I have to injure myself so you can notice me?” He bit down and you whimpered, not from his anger but from guilt.

“Sorry.” You apologized. You look down and twiddle your thumbs, not knowing how to dissipate the awkwardness of the situation and Rafayel’s glare.

It took a moment before you hear Rafayel’s sigh in defeat and open his mouth to talk again.

“You could have just asked me, and I will allow you to cheat by putting my kitties in different cups, or even by replacing my advance cards. All you have to do is say please.” He continued, exasperated.

All you can do is look down in shame and murmur an apology for acting so childish.

“Just….. don’t ignore me again like that, please. It doesn't feel good when the most important person in your life suddenly stops talking to you.” He added, his voice quivered a bit and you wince when you realize how your action affected him. Opening up his old wounds.

“I’m really sorry, Rafayel. I promise to be better next time.” A silence falls between you again. It took a moment before you realize despite how mad he was, he refuses to move his left hand. The air of guilt slowly turned into worry again.

“Did you injure your left hand?” You asked worriedly and slowly touched his left hand when he flinched and gritted his teeth from the pain.

“Probably sprain it when I fell.”

“You fell!?”

“It's fine, Ms. Bodyguard. I bet it will heal tomorrow. Just feed me for now.” He chuckled at your worried face and you watched him move his left hand with no worry, following your reaction from it. You just shake your head at how silly that was, and was so happy he was okay, before you stood up, helped him up, and treated him like a prince just for today.

[pha55ed]

Attracted to U | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: fluff tw/cw :: sex joke (ollie) contains :: kimi!, ollie, pepe request :: attracted to u by pinkpantress w ollie, paul, kimi, pepe (damn u guys really love this quad LOL - but im a littleee tired so i didn't do paul for this :( sorry love!) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

When Kimi sees Ollie Bearman come into the room, he instantly starts to panic. Not because he doesn't like Ollie, quite the opposite, they're very close friends. But he panics because he knows any and every girl falls for him, and he does not want you to be another one of his fan girls - or even worse, for Ollie to crush on you as well.

But it's too late, it's as if you both charmed each other the second you laid eyes on each other. With a simple greeting, Kimi could already tell that Ollie had a small liking towards you and you felt the same - which only gave Kimi one idea: he must ruin this.

From that day on, he tries to give both of you the ick for each other. He tells you how Ollie can be a slob at times, how he's a slow texter, and how he has a crazy ex girlfriend. He tells Ollie how you're sometimes emotionally unavailable, how busy you are with school, and how your friends are kinda weird. He's doing everything he can to make you both seem like the last person on Earth that you'd want to date.

Ollie Bearman | 87

Although Ollie is a heartthrob, there's another guy on the grid that makes more than heart's throb, and that's Paul Aron. The same exact guy who suddenly started flirting with you right after Ollie brought you to the celebration party from his win. Although Ollie won the race, he felt like the biggest loser as he watched Paul make you laugh.

He knows it's slightly petty, but he can't help but try to butt in and ruin it for you both a bit. He knows Paul would respect Ollie's wish to leave you alone, he just needed to do it subtly so you didn't know. As he walks over to you and Paul, Ollie sneaks as arm over your shoulder - sending Paul a look that says "I called dibs".

Paul catches on and just nods, disappointment that you're already being sought after from Ollie. But as Paul leaves, he whispers into Ollie's ear, "If you mess up, then I call dibs." Instantly, Ollie is a bit offended, but he doesn't worry too much since he's sure that he'll never ever lose you once he gets you - he'll make sure of it.

Pepe Marti | 21

One thing about Pepe, is that he's possessive. Although you're not his yet, he's already called dibs in his mind. So when he see's the new prodigy Kimi Antonelli trying to flirt with you, he's instantly walking up to you two to stop it. But, he's still polite about it, he's never rude to Kimi because he knows that Kimi isn't aware of Pepe's secret crush on you.

He'll walk up to you both, sneakily putting his hand on your waist - something you gasp at lightly since he's never done that before. Although he's not super threatened by Kimi, he just wants to be sure that Kimi gets the hint. Pepe knows you won't think too much of his touch, since you're kind of oblivious.

Kimi gets the hint and backs off, which makes Pepe sigh in relief. He's not the type to share, whether you're dating or not.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

can you do like a tom x reader fic where theyre arguing and reader drops the line "pull up your goddamn pants you loser!" from that one sound LMAOO EVERYTIME I HEAR THAT SOUND I THINK OF TOM😭😭😭

(Hello! I love this idea sm and I couldn't help it s here ya go! Enjoy!)

Pull Up Your Pants

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, Fuck me?! Fuck you!"

"Woah!" Bill opened the door, freezing in the door frame with his hands in the air as he walked into what resembled a war zone.

"What's going on…?" Gustav asked, looking around the room to see thrown chairs, you and Tom screaming at each other and clothes thrown around.

"He's a fucking problem! A horn ass dog!" You yelled as an answer, not even looking at Gustav before you threw a shoe at Tom.

"I'm a horn ass dog?!" Tom yelled back, eyes wide in defense as he deflected the shoe, cursing as it hit his finger.

"Yeah! Eye-fucker!" You yelled back, almost laughing when you finally hit your target as Bill, Gustav and Georg walked through the door finally and stepped over thrown articles.

"At least I haven't fallen like an ass on stage!" Tom bickered back, getting a middle finger and throwing another back.

You and Tom didn't even remember how this started, you commented on his flirting with fans and it all spiraled.

Now, like the children you are, you refused to stop.

"What does that have to do with anything?" You yelled back, scoffing at Tom as he turned heel and went towards the door, still looking at you.

"I don't know!"

"Where are you even going?" Bill asked as Tom stormed past him.

"That I also don't know!"

"Don't come crying to me when your 'big dreams' fall apart!" You yelled at his retreating back, it was his usual habit to storm out then storm back into your hotel room.

"Don't fucking hold your breathe!" Tom spit over his shoulder at you, grabbing the door handle and swinging open the door.

It looked oddly weird with how Tom almost ran with his oversized pants, almost weighing him down as you took your chance before he left.

"Pull up your goddamn pants, you loser!" You yelled, completely stopping Tom in his tracks as he slowly turned to you, more offended than ever.

Tom then decided to pull up his pants by both hands, practically jumping, looking like he almost gave himself a wedgie as Gustav had to look away not to laugh and make the argument worse.

"At least I have a fatter ass than you, hoe!" Tom yelled his final insult, and even if it hurt to admit, he did.

The hoe comment was normal, as you guys were best friends before dating so comments were normal, but the ass comment got a beer can thrown at him from the table.

The beer can hit the wall, busting open just as he slammed the door closed with a loud thud, almost shaking the walls.

You all stared at the door for a moment, Gustav, Georg and Bill sharing looks as you plunked yourself onto the couch, breathing heavily.

"Wow…" Bill trailed off, getting a glare from you as he held his arm, slighting and bobbing his head.

"He really does have a fat ass." Georg let out his final thought into the room, getting a look from Bill as Gustav couldn't help but let out his laugh finally.

"Really?" You scoffed, Georg shrugged as you flipped him off.

"The pants hide it." Gustav finally agreed, Georg shot him a look, getting another one back by the Schäfer boy before they slowly turned to you.

All eyes then slowly turned to Bill, who started to collect the chairs and threw around articles.

He finally noticed the silence, turning around to see Gustav and Georg staring at him from where he could see.

Bill looked at them confused for a moment, looking down to see where their eyes were before it clicked.

"Are you guys- are you looking at my ass?!" Bill exclaimed, giving the two looks as they quickly turned away, rubbing their necks or whistling and looking at anything other than Bill.

"Oh my god?!" Bill continued on, giving the two weird looks before he turned to see you leaning back on the couch, a weird look on your face mimicking Georg's an Gustavs.

"(Name)!" Bill yelled, watching as you jumped and turned back right on the couch.

"Why?! What's is- what is wrong with you, assholes?!" Bill yelled, watching you and the two other boys exchange looks.

"I mean…you are identical twins…"

"...I hate you all.

[periludic]

Ahhhh I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you until now I’ve been really sick 😭

But can I basically just request a OLN&F step two crushing scenario with both Tamarack and Qiu(separate), the gist of it is that MC has always been a physically affectionate person as a kid and kept up with that attitude even as a teen, but! is also very unaware of the fact that because they are so physically affectionate with Qiu/Tamarack people all the time think their dating 😭

" AFFECTION "

📌 Pairing: Step 2 Qiu/Tamarack x GN!MC (Separate)

📌 Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took a while :D and I hope you're feeling better <33

Qiu "Autumn" Lin

This jerk is so smug about it.

Whether they're 10 or 14, they love that you're clingy with them!

They're absolutely beaming as you hold onto their arm

And if you're being affectionate in public they'll look at the poor people surrounding the two of you, shit eating grin on their face as if they're saying "See this? They chose me and not you. Lol. Losers"

If there's a rumor going around that the two of you are dating, Qiu wouldn't deny it if someone asks them whether its true or not

"So are you two actually dating or..?" "Maybe, maybe not" "…So are you?" "Are we :]?"

Gosh they're insufferable

Makes those rumors worse by either flirting with you or subtly reciprocating your affection where people can witness the moment (the latter rarely happens)

If people start hating on you because of how affectionate you are towards Autumn, they'll start flirting with you even more just to spite them

And because they find your reactions adorable <3

Oh, and Qiu totally puffs out their chest proudly like a lion whenever someone mentions that you're more affectionate towards them than anybody else

Though they're overly smug and teasing about it, they absolutely melt inside. Especially if you're being affectionate in private

They love your little private moments so much. It makes them feel special that though you could've been with anyone else, you're there being affectionate with them instead

Qiu doesn't put in effort to be physically affectionate with anyone these days, but they're willing to do so if its for you

They got so used to your affection that anytime you're near each other and you don't start getting touchy with them after 2 seconds, they kinda get annoyed

Would always be searching for your warmth, it doesn't have to be much, just your pinkies intertwined or your shoulders brushing against each other is enough

You're their special someone

They'll never admit that out loud though! (Yet)

Tamarack Baumann

Flustered! Very very flustered

But is equally happy that you're being affectionate with them

Tamarack was a very affectionate kid, she hugged you anytime she was given the opportunity!! So even if she's more reserved as a teen, throwing her arms around you feels as natural as breathing

Would get a teeny tiny heart attack if you're really affectionate with her in public

But if you're doing it alone together, in the forest or either one of your houses, she'd be drowning in your affection

I think she's equally clingy in private if you have a good relationship with her to be honest

Now. Tamarack definitely always knows what's going on in town, and in school

So it doesn't take long for her to find out that people think you two are dating

As much as she denies this rumor whenever someone mentions it to her, she's absolutely giddy about the thought of the two of you being together like that

She honestly doesn't want people to stop believing in that rumor, but what would you think??

Tamarack doesn't mind, but what if you don't like the thought of you two dating? What if you grow distant because of it?? What if you're grossed out??? What if-

Okay yeah you get my point but she stresses over it a lot

So unless you confirm that you're okay with it, she'll absolutely deny it

She doesn't want you to be uncomfortable, and she doesn't want to ruin what the two of you have just because of a rumor

You're her safe place, she doesn't want to lose you

Tamarack may be doubting her place in the world but she knows she fits right in your arms perfectly

[momentomori24]

Surprisingly, hearing Vox and Val technically (I love how technically needed to be added) aren't dating didn't upset me as much as I thought it would. It did... for like a minute until I thought about how painfully much it fits them.

Val throws tantrums and is ready go out and kill people to let off steam, but decides to stay put in his room and sulk instead while he waits for his flat-faced prince to come and comfort him before he does anything drastic. He's killed and abused people for the slightest hint of non-compliance, which he sees as giving him an attitude or questioning his authority, but he doesn't so much as flinch when Vox raises his voice and starts shaking him in frustration more than once. He doesn't lash out or get angry when Vox tries to talk him out of marching towards the hotel, but instead listens to his points and takes his words to heart even when they weren't what he wanted to hear. He's not interested in Alastor, but is willing to sit through watching the extermination broadcast because Vox is a passionate football dad about his one-sided rival getting dunked on. He doesn't even act jealous towards Vox's obsession, just weirdly amused and supportive even tho he hates not being the center of attention any other times. And then there's Vox, who acts like he's annoyed to have to put up with Valentino but still does it anyway. He acts disinterested about Val's ranting over Angel until he hears that Angel might've quit because he's an jealous, insecure loser that wants that mf's attention to himself. He lights his cigarette and decides to call up their lowest earners for him to terrorize without being asked just to lighten his mood a little (unrelated but i feel for their employees). He keeps his eyes on him both in his room and when he's at the pub through the cameras he's got everywhere. He takes his hand like one would with a princess and smiles fondly at him before disappearing when noticing they're being watched. He's the only person that Val trusts enough to calm him down when his temper gets the better of him. And Val-- despite his volatile temper and obnoxious quirks-- is someone he respects and cares about, both as his business associate and romantic partner.

And they aren't dating. Val and Vox clearly have a connection and understanding and attraction yet are unable to confront those feelings in fear of being vulnerable. So they aren't dating. Val obsesses over Angel and Vox obsesses over Alastor to distract themselves of the other only to fall back into each other's arms at the end of the day. Even tho they aren't dating. They celebrate, dance, sing, support and shamelessly make out with each other. They're the only ones that would put up with each other's bullshit no matter what-- but for some reason, they're still not dating. They are two of the worst Overlords in Hell, capable of committing so many despicable acts and jumping to immoral tactics for their own gain without any regrets, but opening that door into genuine emotional vulnerability? Acknowledging their softness for each other? That's where they draw the line. They're clearly made for each other, but neither of them dare to step over that line to commit to something more.

Which means that we could get to actually see these changes take place. We could get to see more sides to these two we still haven't seen before. We could get to see them actually start dating and the complicated journey it took to get there. We could get to scream and kick and seeth as these two morons continue to dance around admitting their very much requited romantic feelings for every stupid reason under the sun episode after episode. We could get to see these two fix each other and make each other worse simultaneously. Mostly make each other worse. We could get to see them have a romantic duet. We could get to see them be happy together-- officially together-- while they make life worse for everyone around them.

All this mumbo-jumbo, sleep-deprived ranting will likely not happen, but the potential character growth, the dynamic development, the resolved romantic tension, the SONGS we could get??? I'm clinging onto this hope for dear life until it's ripped from my cold, dead hands.

[simping-on-the-daily]

Being stuck between Bill and an insane Ford seems like one of the worst places to be. If this is a world where Ford is under Bill’s thumb (willingly or not) then it means weirdmageddon is probably universal, so even if you could run there’s nowhere to go. And Bill is basically a god. So death probably isn’t an option either. Either he get’s bored of you and you end up another body on the pile or you’re just stuck. I can’t fathom that kind of helplessness and despair. (I’m also all for it, yandere’s are a guilt pleasure lol)

no-one is coming out of that throuple a better person everyone is coming out worse!! reader's fucked ford's fucked bill's fucked they're all ruining each others lives they enable their worst qualities,,,

this interpretation of bill ain't killing reader though dw about that lmao,,, reader may be the newest addition but bill does think reader completes them, they're the new mystery trio. if ford is on one end of the line, bill's on the other, meaning reader is the middle, and bill wants to see reader make the middle theirs, to unlock the potential bill knows reader has because she doesn't choose losers, no, she goes after important people!! you can change the world, just like ford has by collapsing the barrier, she knows it because she's bill cipher

they love both ford and reader but he's bill cipher so he expresses that love by forced pet regression and mind control and mutilation and gore and letting the two most important ppl in his life watch the world burn from the penthouse suite, and waiting to get the others so the fam photo can be complete,,,,

the bad ending is ford, reader, bill, the kids, stan and whoever you want as a found family to replace the one bill lost (soos and wendy are on thin ice, but they're still here), laughing over the ashes of a fun world, better world. nothing's wrong with the way an insane reader beats down pup!ford, both of them loving each other so much but your love has been twisted and altered into something destructive. nothing's wrong with how bill devours your guts and uses your eyes to season salad because they'll grow back, you've been blessed. the bad ending is that everyone who sits on the fearamid's throne will ever want to leave

[slut4megantheestallion]

Adam and lute headcanons ☆

adam x lute x black!angel reader

Summary: Adam and lute have taken a liking towards you, and they can't take their eyes off of you, and they both want you to themselves.

● Adam was attracted to you the minute you ended up in heaven. You were so gorgeous and had a pure heart even if people didn't deserve it. He favors you a lot, and I think a lot of people notice even lute.

● Adam had a huge ego, and he's self-centered, so of course, he tries anything in his power to sabotage anyone who tries to get close to you or he sees as a threat.

● He finds you wings very pretty and the way you fly so effortlessly elegant which he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

● Adam tries to get lute to like you, but she didn't she was very intimated by you and jealous how you and Adam have gotten close, leaving her left behind, which angers her.

● Adam flirts with you, a bit touchy with you, Adam finds it cute how flustered you get when he flirts with you he finds it so hot, typical adam.

● Lute would glare at you or have an attitude with you, but she dials It down so Adam doesn't get pissed. Lute doesn't really like or care for you, but she tolerates you because of adam. She rivaled her sisters, even vaggie over adam, until she had him for herself until you came along.

● Lute hated how the things she did for adam did it for him, like anything she did, you're doing it for him. Adam sees the hostility lute had been given to you, so he confronts her.

"What the fuck is your problem, lute?" Adam asked lute as she glares in anger.

"Nothing, sir," she says, deflecting.

"Really,because it seems like you're jealous and acting weird towards y/n," adam says, making lute blood boil by the sound of her name.

● "I'm not jealous of her, sir." Lute lies knowing has been jealous of y/n since the moment she saw you and Adam gotten closer.

"Yes, you are, you're jealous," adam laughs and teases her, making her roll her eyes.

"Cmon, at least try to like her for me." Adam pleads with her giving her those puppy dog eyes.

Lute rolls her eyes. She doesn't want to get along with you, but for Adam's sake, she does listens.

"Fine" lute huffs as she walks away from adam.

" Fucking yes, bitch!!" Adam smiles shouting as he leaved going to find y/n.

Lute had been following you around because Adam told her to while he's off doing whatever and keep you safe. Lute has been around you for a little while, and she thinks you're ok. She thought you would be worse than she expected, but it's not the case.

● You like to see the best in people, lute thought you were way too kind, which isn't bad, but she didn't want to see you take advantage. Lute tried so hard to dislike you, but you were hard since you were so perfect. She sees why Adam likes you.

Lute pretends to be rude to you to hide her feelings for you and her heart beating whenever you are around. Adam smirks at the way lute is around you, his two favorite girls getting along with each other it was so hot, gave him a boner.

● Adam and lute are psychopaths wanting to see hell crash and burn and rule heaven with each other.

● Lute will not hesitate to kill anyone who disrespects you or tries to harm you. She doesn't want any of the disgusting creatures from hell corrupting your purity. Lute has no problems killing or going to hell, just for you to stay in heaven where you're safe and protected.

● Adam doesn't want to kill anyone even though he really wants to, but he's doesn't want to be in hell with those losers, so he's just aggressive verbally.

● Lute finds joy torturing others but not in front of you because the last time she killed someone in front of you, you cried and were afraid of her, but she reassured you she would never hurt you.

● Adam is very obvious about his feelings with you and lute, and he wants to be in a relationship with you both. But since you love and fell for the both of them, you ended up being in a relationship with them.

● Adam and lute get jealous easily, seeing you with someone that isn't them. They have no problem threatening or having a "friendly" chat with the person to back the fuck off.

● Lute is very stubborn when you try to do something for her. She brushes off and says she's fine because she doesn't want you to worry about her and take care of you.

● Adam may be an asshole to everyone but he genuinely cares about you ever since he lost two women in his life to lucifer he doesn't want to lose you against lucifer, but you promise it won't happen because you love him and lute.

● Lute kisses you with a lot of passion and love. She wants to make you feel good and special. She just can't get enough of you.

● you get flustered anytime, adam and Lute flirts with you. Lute can get rough with you in bed, but she can be sweet and gentle with you.

● Lute love giving you cheek kisses, snuggling, she tries not giving you affection out in the open but sometimes she can't help it.

● Lute loves when you tug on her hair when she eats you out it makes her go crazy.

● Adam has a size kink. He's really tall and loves to tower over you, makes him feel powerful. he finds it hot the way you and lute kiss and make out, and he joins in pleasing both of his favorite girls.

● he has tried every sex position, but he mostly loves missionary and doggystyle.

● Lute loves fingering and eating you she finds it attractive the way you moan and gaspbin pleasure you look so innocent.

● Adam is awesome at giving head but his dick is amazing, I mean he is the "dickmaster" eve and Lilith were missing out.

● Adam and lute both have a virginity kink and were both happy to take your virginity. Adam also has a breeding kink he wants to fill you up with is cum and have a baby with you.

● Adam and lute take care of you after sex making you feel loved and safe. Adam and lute don't want to let you go. They'll do whatever it takes to have to themselves even I it put them in danger they both were madly in love with you.

[lovesickonmybed]

bully ellie is really really mean and i really really want her, so I want to ask what would be her reaction to reader in a date with someone like her (a loser)

bully!ellie my beloved. she's soooooooo mean and so jealous that anyone is hanging around her nerd but her. in my mind she's pretty possessive over reader even though they aren't together and she bullies her. i think ellie finding reader on a date in general would make her lose it, but finding you with another loser would make her 10x worse. this was gonna be short but it turned into a mini fic. pls feel free to send more bully!ellie stuff bc i love her.

i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

masterlist | info abt palestine | donate to gaza

Maybe y'all are out at a coffee shop or something, sitting in a booth near the back talking about your favorite movies when Ellie walks in. You're sitting facing the door and she spots you immediately. She looks pissed when she sees you and walks over without a plan for what she'll say or do. You sigh and look away from her, dreading what's about to happen, your date looks around confused until her eyes land on Ellie. 

Ellie sits down at your booth, shoving your date to scoot over, shooting her a mean glare, "When did you two losers get together?" she snarks, raising an eyebrow and looking between you two. Your date scoots closer towards the window and looks Ellie up and down fearfully. 

“Ellie we’re just trying t-” you try to speak but she’s quick to cut you off.

“Trying to make small talk before you lose your virginities to each other because no one else wants to fuck either of you?”

Ellie’s response shocks both you and your date, your eyes go wide and your jaw drops. Your date quickly scrambles to try speak up but Ellie narrows her eyes at her threateningly to shut her up. “Don’t try to deny it, I could smell you desperate losers from a mile away. You,” she points to you and smirks, “You’re probably wet at just the idea of having her lazily attempt to fingerbang you in the back of her moms Honda. She won’t get you to cum you know.” 

Your face heats up with embarrassment and you look down and take a sip of your water as Ellie continues to humiliate you and your date. Ellie turns to your date to address her, “You were gonna give her an awful fuck weren’t you? Y’know Dina told me that she heard you talking to your little friends in the locker room about how you finally came for the first time just last week. One sad little orgasm doesn’t mean you should promise little losers like them,” she motions over to you and chuckles, “a great night. It’s not fair to get her hopes up like that.” 

Your date looks down, very clearly feeling humiliated by Ellie and her words. “P-Please move,” she mutters to Ellie. Normally Ellie would tell her to speak up and humiliate her further but she’s already quite satisfied with the girls humiliated state and gets up for her to exit the booth. As the girl pushes past her Ellie is quick to grab her waistband that’s showing over the top of her skirt and pull hard enough to get her to yelp. Your date rushes off out of the coffee shop, stuffing her pulled panties back into her skirt as she rushes out to her car.

“Seriously, Ellie? You had to ruin a date for me too?” You groan, your head falling into your hands in frustration. 

Ellie rolls her eyes and takes a sip of your date's discarded drink, “I saved you from having to fake an orgasm for a girl who can’t even get herself off. You should be thanking me, loser.”

“In your dreams. You just ruined my chance with her and she left without paying!” 

Ellie rolls her eyes and throws a $10 down onto the table, “There, I even paid. Happy now, loser?” Ellie walks closer to you and grabs your hand, pulling you to the edge of your seat. She closely examines your makeup and outfit, smirking to herself while she does, she extends her hand to you, “Get up, you’re coming with me.”

“No I’m not,” you cross your arms over your chest in defiance, looking up at her with a glare.

“You are, you don’t have any other way home now that your little date is gone. Lets. Go.”

You think it over for a second before sighing and taking her hand, letting her help you up from the booth. You follow her out to her car and get in the passenger seat begrudgingly. As you buckle up she reaches over and lifts your skirt and looks down, “You wore some pretty panties for her loser, shame she didn’t get to see them hmm.” 

You groan and pull your skirt back down, crossing your legs. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“And you eat it up, nerd.”

[toxictigertonic]

Glad to see that my mad ramblings are entertaining this corner of the outlast community, I will continue to talk until I've juiced the smooth ball of gum I call a brain of all its flavor. Pspsps Franco fans hiiii tell me what I should draw him doing/wearing pleaaaase.

Today's headcanons are: How are the prime assets when it comes to board/card games?

COYLE

- Do not play games with this man unless you want to have the least fun of your life.

- He has the rule book out on the table as you're playing so he can read them off at any point.

- In fact I know that fucker memorizes game rules and starts fighting people if they don't play by them.

- "WE GOT LAWS AROUND HERE! WE GOT FUCKING LAWS!" "Leland calm down we're playing uno..."

- If he catches someone cheating he's hopping the table, there's a crime in progress and he's about to be SUCH a good cop.

- Play monopoly with him to experience The Thrill of being tased over fake money.

- If you use a +4 on this man in Uno he will scream until you show him your hand to make SURE you're not lying about not having any other cards to use. He'll also pout about you using it in general.

- The sorest loser ever, genuinely. Somehow worse than Franco. And Franco is a baby man with a gun.

- It should be a rule that he's not allowed to play cards with Franco but Phyllis is stubborn and wants them to get along. It never ends well.

- Gets far too giddy playing Mousetrap.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- Forces Leland and Franco into game nights. They can't say no or they'll upset her, thereby upsetting Futterman, thereby risking their lives to The Goose.

- Has a massive collection of card games and board games, take your pick.

- And she knows how to play all of them, mind you. She has the rules memorized as well but doesn't have an electric stick up her ass like somebody we know.

- LOVES Candyland and Parcheesi. The brighter and more colorful the board the more she finds it adorable.

- Futterman eats pieces when Phyllis is losing. Don't turn around he's a hungry little guy.

- He got caught eating pieces once and had to wear the Bag of Shame for multiple game nights afterwards.

- Futterman also is allowed to play the games, somehow always wins in the end. Leland is suspicious of him cheating (but isn't willing to face drill wrath to investigate)

- Have I mentioned that Futterman will call both Franco and Leland awful names when he's losing? Because he does. Has made both of them cry before. Game night had to end early and Phyllis felt very bad.

- Not a sore loser per se, but will ask to play again until she wins. Futterman will stare whoever down until they agree to another round.

- If you don't help her put away the board or cards she's holding a grudge. And if pieces are missing you BETTER help find them, even if it means shaking them out of Futterman's mouth.

FRANCO

- Play silly games, win silly prizes. I'm saying if you try to beat him at cards (and you're not a fellow prime asset or someone whose lap he wants access to) you're getting shot in the foot.

- He's required to turn in Lupara at the beginning of game nights now after he tried to take Coyle's shin off. He only gives Lupara up bc Phyllis asks so nicely (and because he's a simp lol).

- Really good at cards, but still cheats. Mainly to fuck with Coyle. He'll take any opportunity to piss that man off.

- Sometimes wants to play solitaire like an adult, other times he's playing candyland with Phyllis having the time of his life.

- If it's a game with unique pieces you BETTER let him pick his piece first or he's throwing a tantrum.

- If Leland's winning he'll kick him under the table then say he was imagining things. Leland is THIS 👌 close to starting a fight.

- He lets Phyllis win to get on her good side. Doesn't matter the game, he'll let her win. Gets pissy when she wins naturally though.

- He always tries to gamble when they play anything. Coyle does not approve of gambling. Have I mentioned these two want each other dead?

- Phyllis complimented him on being really good at shuffling a deck of cards and he rode that high for weeks.

- Very good at convincing the others that it's his turn if they've lost track of who goes next. Doesn't matter if he just went, he will get to go again.

- Likes to play card matching games by himself when he doesn't wanna think about the game too hard. Phyllis sometimes sits with him and plays too. Futterman calls them both stupid if they fuck up.

I love how much Franco and Leland hate each other I want them to fist fight ❤️. Lock them in a room together and whoever crawls out at the end wins. No weapons just two bald bastards.

[underhousearrestblog]

Shameless | A.T.

(summary) you’re tipsy and accidentally mistake Aemond for Aegon... Aemond doesn’t mind at all...

(warnings) non-con due to Aemond pretending to be a different person and not securing your consent (reader, although drunk, “consents” to Aegon, not Aemond), a bit dark, marriage-trapping someone

(warnings) if swear words offend you, we might have a problem here...

(pairings) Aemond Targaryen x reader (main; romantic), Aegon Targaryen x reader (platonic; fuck-buddy vibes)

(genre) room-temperature smut, one-sided pining

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(word count) 5.1k

(also) reader is Rhaenyra’s child... so Aemond’s niece...

(also) DRUNK CONSENT IS NOT CONSENT, FOLKS. THIS IS DARK FICTION SO BEWARE!

HAPPY READING!

Stupid fucking loser, Aemond’s hand clenched into a fist under the table. Take your hand off before I break it off!

Right in front of him, right across the table, Aegon had you smiling at him affectionately. His right hand was resting casually on the back of your chair, dangerously close to your neck. From Aemond’s place, he could see his brother’s fingers lightly stroking strands of your hair.

You had leaned in closer towards Aegon, as he half-drunk told you something you seemed to be way too interested.

Bullshit, Aemond thought to himself, that loser couldn’t string along an interesting story to save his life...

You just wanted to fuck him.

Was it better that you actually didn’t find his brother interesting or funny, that you just appeased him to get him into your bed? Was it worse that you wanted to sleep with the bastard?

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he tried to find your motivation for this absurdity. There was no way Aegon had rumors going around about him being good in bed. He was known to be a sloppy, drunk, selfish fuck who wouldn’t give two shits about your pleasure. His brother had no charm... Were you trying to make him fall in love with you? Make him marry you?

That had to be it. There was no other logical explanation. No way you craved some drunk when there were men begging on their knees for you attention, men begging on their knees for you to pick them and allow them the pleasure of your company.

He would.

Aemond.

He would beg you on his knees to allow showing you all the ways he wanted to worship you.

But you didn’t see him. Ever since your mother, Rhaenyra, had brought and left you here, you hadn’t even looked at him twice. Not when the great Aegon “Cant’t-Fight-For-Shit” Targaryen was standing right beside him.

After his mother had introduced you to everybody, Aemond had already taken a step forward to introduced himself separately when his stupid, good-for-nothing brother had thrown out a half-conscious joke about him teaching you to drink ‘cause that’s all he’s good at. You laughed. Aegon was pleased and had given you a rare smile. Nobody else mattered, and Aemond had stepped back, watching Aegon snatching your attention.

Somehow both of you got along. It was as bewildering as it was annoying. His mother was very much pleased, and Aegon seemed to be more... neutral.

Was it wrong for Aemond to be okay with his brother falling back into bad habits and addiction if that meant that you no longer spend any time with him?

He looked away from both of you, unable to watch any longer without launching  any utensil available at his brother’s head. Accidentally meeting his mother’s eyes, Aemond realized he’s given too much away and turned his attention back to dinner.

Everyone seemed to pleased at this god-forsaken dinner table. Greens and Blacks didn’t get along too well but with the king demanding peace and two members of Greens and Blacks were practically on each other at all times, something similar to an alliance had formed for this evening.

Once the music started and his stupid nephew had asked his sister to dance, Aemond noticed Aegon flicking his eyes towards the dance floor more than once.

Don’t even dream about it, fucker, Aemond wanted to scream at him.

He was drunk. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t take two steps without falling flat on his face! What kind of dancer would his brother make tonight?

Aemond moved almost on a whim once he saw Aegon getting up. Due to his brother being heavily intoxicated, Aemond was able to cross the room in the time period it took for Aegon to get up.

You looked up from where you where sitting and then your eyes slid down to Aemond’s extended hand. You swallowed, watching the younger brother towering over you with such intensity. You were also quite tipsy, although not as much as your companion.

In your intoxicated state you hadn’t noticed how everyone who still sat at the table had stopped talking and had turned their whole attention towards the end of the table where you sat. Alicent looked almost scared as if she knew exactly how violently Aemond had pictured dealing with Aegon. Your father looked vaguely entertained. Your mother seemed a bit surprised.

- Are you sure your high education covered dancing, brother? – Aegon who had also stood up, no doubt to ask you to join him on the dance floor, softly laughed at his brother. – You know, you can’t learn that from b-

- Shut up, - Aemond spoke to Aegon but his eyes didn’t leave yours. – A dance, my lady?

You put your glass down and placed your hand in his warm one that completely engulfed yours. Aemond’s fingers lightly tingled wherever your skin touched his. Aegon sat back down and everyone – either bored or out of politeness – returned to their boring discussions.

You were more drunk than you thought as you miscalculated your steps and ended up almost running into Aemond’s chest.

- Sorry, - you murmured, backing up. – I don’t think I’m gonna a good dance partner tonight, Aemond.

Aemond.

Not lord Targaryen.

Not prince Aemond.

Whenever you were distracted or tipsy, you almost always called him by his name. At those rare moments he could imagine replacing his brother as your companion and friend. You never called him by a title.

His other hand, the one not holding yours, reached to steady you by your bicep. He easily towered over your height and when you looked up, he decided that that right there is the sight he’d cherish to see every day for the rest of his life.

- It’s fine, - he lead you towards where Jacaerys and Helaena already danced. – I’ll lead.

The moment you started dancing, Aemond realized exactly why this was such a bad idea. Once one of his hands went to rest on the small of your back and the other grasped your hand, he noticed how close you stood. But that wasn’t all because you were also drunk and by proxy – forgot to give enough space.

Your left hand reached under Aemond’s arm, up his back and rested on the back of his shoulder. In your drunken stupor, you couldn’t keep yourself up steady so your lightly pressed your face against his shoulder and let him lead.

Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat. You were so, so close. He only had to lean down a little bit and he could place a kiss directly on the top of your head.

- You smell so good, - you quietly giggled, sucking in a deep breath, burying your face in his shirt.

So quietly that for a second the prince thought he might’ve imagined it.

Was this how you would’ve danced with Aegon, had he gotten a chance to ask you? Would you say those same words to him?

Not unless you liked the mix of wine and sweat.

For a moment Aemond’s blood froze in his veins. Did you think he was Aegon? You were drunk enough to mistake your mother for your father.

- Who am I? – Aemond threaded carefully. – Can you say my name, sweetheart?

You looked up with a puzzled expression but not an unconscious one. As your brows furrowed, you tried to pull your hand back from Aemond’s hand but he snapped his fingers shut around it.

- What?

- Do you remember my name, Y/N? – he whispered softly.

You stared for a moment longer before bursting out laughing. It was Aemond’s turn to look bewildered.

- I’m not that drunk, prince Aemond, - you proclaimed, leaning back against him. – Everything’s just spinning and blurring.

Aemond exhaled in relief. Looking over your head, his eyes found Aegon’s who was still still nursing a glass of wine. Once their eyes met, Aemond couldn’t help but look smug.

Watch me, brother, he wanted to laugh in Aegon’s face. Watch me steal her and keep her all to myself.

Aegon either was too drunk or simply didn’t care.

What an idiot...

***

As the dinner was wrapping up and most of the family had already left, you stood up too. Your mother and father had retired early, saying that the babe could come any day and they needed all the rest they could get. Both your brothers were still at the table, so was Helaena and Aegon.

At least you thought that was Aegon.

He was watching you from his seat, as you lightly stumbled on your feet and knocked over an empty glass.

Had you been sober, you would’ve noticed that the blonde prince sitting in front of you was far too calm and stiff to be your drinking companion.

- Shall I escort you, sister? – your oldest brother offered.

You shook your head. Last thing you wanted was to fuck up his chance with Helaena after he spend the whole ride here gushing over her.

And you were prideful enough not to agree to be escorted to your room by the brother half your age who probably was too young to even see his sister in this state.

In the state you were in – everything blurring together and your body barely holding you upright – you didn’t notice the young Targaryen prince’s eyes never leaving your form for a second.

You stumbled into the hallway and the strong burst of clear air coming from the open windows gave a little bit of restart to your brain. You leaned against the wall and greedily inhaled the pleasant evening air, all the while trying not to vomit.

Hangover’s gonna be a bitch tomorrow...

- Shall I help you to your room? – a voice behind you made you jump.

- No, Jace, I’m... – your started but once the person talking entered your very limited peripheral vision, you quickly correct yourself. – Oh, it’s just you.

Aemond tilted his head, watching your unfocused gaze run all over his body. He hated when ladies of the court did that, it made him feel insecure. However, he had no problem with you checking him out so thoroughly.

- How are you okay, Aegon? – you half-laughed, lightly punching Aemond’s side. – You drank more than me!

Aemond felt freezing cold seeping into his bones. You checked him out because... you thought he was Aegon? You laughed and smiled because you mistook him for his brother?

Even now when his brother was nowhere in sight, even now he could feel Aegon’s amusement dancing around the empty hallway.

Still no chance, brother?

I’m not even in the same room, and she still chooses me? Damn.

Aemond felt a deep need to go find his drunk, undoubtedly passed out brother and threaten, plead, beg him to never speak to you again. Maybe then he could have a chance to be looked at, to be seen by you.

Everything suddenly flipped before your eyes and you felt yourself lose balance but before you could hit the ground, you felt yourself being lifted up by two strong arms and being held close to a man’s chest. You head lulled to the side and fell into the croak of Aemond’s neck.

Your warm breath tickled his skin and your messed up hair stuck to his skin, as Aemond began walking.

You weighed nothing in his arms, and the young prince narrowed his eyes. Had you even eaten anything at dinner? Or were you just drinking?

Fucking Aegon.

Aemond felt even more bitterness seep into his heart. Aegon truly didn’t care.

I would, he decided. I would make sure you are fed, warm, happy, healthy.

- Just take me to your room, - you muttered under your breath.

Aemond sucked in a breath and his heart skipped a beat only until he realized who you thought you were talking to. His good-for-nothing brother. Fucker was not even here and was still ruining everything.

- Over my dead body, - Aemond threw out and began the long walk to your own quarters.

Once he had you in your room, he carefully placed you down on your bed and grabbed a blanket to cover you. You tried to shrug it off but he knew that you’d be cold once you sobered up. He brushed few loose strands away from you eyes and bent down to kiss you.

A forehead kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone...

However, the closer he got to your half-conscious form, the more his eyes strayed to your lips. He towered over your sleeping form and then suddenly, before he could talk himself out of it, leaned in closer and pressed a kiss against your lips.

Heaven tasted like a mix of you and wine.

He closed his eyes, taking it all in. Your lips were soft and made to be kissed by him. He wanted to feel them on his face, on his neck, down his chest, around his dick.

- What are you doing? – your eyes were wide open, and Aemond immediately straightened up.

Aemond cursed himself for being foolish enough to let his temptations and greed take over for even a second. He stood completely still, hands behind his back shaking a little.

- I-I’m sorry, - his voice cracked, imagining that he’d ruined everything. – I didn’t mean-

He couldn’t finish though because in the next moment you had already risen to your feet – still obviously intoxicated but more stable due to the fresh air – and crossed the short distance between you two. With concern Aemond regarded your hooded and still very much unfocused gaze, as you rose to your tiptoes.

Your right hand slid into his blonde hair and tugged. Aemond felt himself getting harder – if that was possible – as your lips touched his neck. You kissed his skin lighty before biting him.

Aemond’s hands went to hold your waist, as he felt himsef lose more and more in your touch, in your taste, in your presence.

- You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, - your whispered, licking a hickey you’ve just given him before looking up into his eyes. – But you never seemed interested...

You pushed him against the wall and Aemond’s hold on you tightened.

- You’re so cold all the time... – you mumbled to yourself, as you started unbuttoning his shirt. – Only nice to me when you need something...

Aegon’s a fucking bastard, Aemond thought but secretly enjoyed that both of you weren’t as close as it had seemed from afar.

He desperately waited for some morals to kick in. Was he really okay with you thinking he was his brother? Was he really that desperate to be with you, sleep with you, that he would be okay to be called by his brother’s name?

An answer came as soon as you placed an innocent, chaste kiss on his chest.

He turned you around so that now you were the one against the wall. His mouth practically attached yours and one of his hands slid into your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss your neck. When you moaned, he felt drunk and delirious.

And triumphant.

Fuck Aegon and fuck your feelings for him. He was gonna destroy every single thing you felt for his brother...

- Aegon, - you moaned.

Aemond gathered your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above your head.

- Don’t say my name, - he begged more than commanded. – Not tonight...

He gave you a few hickeys on your neck and breasts. He’ll enjoy you seeing them in shock in the morning. You tugged on your wrists to be released but Aemond only held them tighter.

- I fucking love this, - you whispered.

- You won’t tomorrow, - he whispered, putting his free hand on the nape of your neck before kissing you softly. – But we’ll work it out.

When you looked up at him, he thought your eyes looked clearer and gaze was less hooked. For a second, he thought you might’ve regained enough sobriety to recognize him but you only pulled your wrists free, put your hands on his naked chest and pushed him into your bed.

Climbing on his lap, you were the one who initiated kiss this time. The cold rings on your fingers touched Aemond’s skin, as you cupped his face. You kissed passionately and breathlessly, and Aemond hated that Aegon had probably felt the same kisses at some point.

Doesn’t matter, he thought to himself. You’re mine now.

He quickly flipped you over and pushed the unbuttoned bodice of your dress down to your hips. You moaned louder as his lips found closed around one of your nipples. Your hands went into his hair once again but this time he pinned your wrists against the bed.

- What do you want? – he asked, looking up at you. – Tell me what you want.

Your lips looked bruised and thoroughly kissed. As they should look. Every day for the rest of your life...

- I want, - you panted, as Aemond’s long fingers brushed against your lower lips, losing your train of thought. – I...

Aemond chuckled darkly, detaching himself from your chest.

His useless brother could never...

Would never.

- Please, fuck me, - you begged. – Please, fuck me, Aemond.

He completely froze above you. He didn’t dare to breathe. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Has he gone completely mad in the short time he spent with you?

- What did you just call me? – he asked, voice dangerously low. – What did-

Even in your drunken stupor, you had attitude. You dared to roll your eyes – no joke – into the back of your skull out of sheer annoyance.

- I’m sorry, Aegon, - you stressed his brother’s name with frustration. – You know I mess both of your names when drunk...

Aemond still stood himself still. So... You’d done this before? You’d made out drunk with Aegon but called out his name? Aemond felt rush of electricity through his body. There were evenings when he would retire to his room without knowing that somewhere in the castle you were screaming out his name in pleasure?

- That’s fine, that’s fine, - he said neither to you nor himself. – It’s all fine.

So you weren’t as unaffected by him as he had thought? You did notice him? You’ve noticed him enough to fantasize about him while in between the sheets.

Aemond felt estatic.

- Just fuck me and be done with it, - you commanded Aegon – Aemond – and pulled him down for a kiss.

Aemond flipped you on your stomach and peppered kisses down your spine. You tried to turn back around but he stopped you with a hand on your back, pressing you down into the matress.

- Stay still, sweetheart, - he whispered against your back. – I want to take my time.

- You’re annoying, - you huffed but still let him do his “enjoying”.

Aemond was nervous. Mostly, because he had never done this with anyone since that first time Aegon had brought him to a brothel and forced him to lose his virginity.

Would you notice a difference?

You probably would sober but now – even though you were fairly coherent – now you would probably assume Aegon had mastered something new from one of his nightly visits.

An insecurity he’d never felt before gripped his heart.

What if he was not enough? Good enough, satisfying enough for you? He always had the need to excel at everything but now – with you – that need to be the best you’ve ever had was overwhelming.

- Stop teasing and fuck me already, - you whined, looking back at him.

He slowly slid inside your tight cunt and pulled your back against his chest so you were forced to practically sit back against him. He wrapped his hand around your neck and pressed his lips against your ear.

- Do I fuck better than him? – he whispered, as he roughly thrusted into you again and again. – Or does that drunk moron actually knows what he’s doing in bed?

Your eyes narrowed, as he the other arm of your lover wrapped around your naked waist and pressed you further into him, continuing to fuck you fast and rough. You felt him in your stomach...

For the first time...

Ever...

Aemond licked your earlobe before leaning down to suck a hickey on the side of your neck.

- Quite frankly, I don’t care, - he said darkly into your ear. – He’ll never fuck you again.

Something flashed in your memory. The scent. It was oddly familiar.

- He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure of it...

Your eyes widened as you recognized the scent of your dance partner earlier tonight...

But it was too late anyway.

Aemond roughly pushed you forward and you landed on your elbows, his fingers digging into your hips as he mounted you from behind. You had sobered up enough to recognize that this was not how Aegon fucked. He was never passionate about it. You couldn’t tell from just looking at him but Aegon actually preferred slower sex.

This was no Aegon.

Realization came too late because the moment Aemond’s fingers touched your clit, you felt your orgasm explode and dark dots started dancing across your vision. He let you ride out your orgasm before he pushed into you to the hilt and came deep inside you.

That was the last thing you felt before you lost consciousness.

***

Your eyes weren’t open yet but you heard voices. Whispering, angry voices just few feet away. Your body seemed to be on fire, every fiber and muscle ached. You tried to pull the blanket over your head, only to realize that all you had on you was a thin silk bed sheet.

That was new.

- You know what’s going to happen now, - an angry woman’s voice sounded somewhere close. – You were heard by dozens of servants. They know.

You opened your eyes and saw the queen standing by the door. Your head was pounding as you tried to see with whom she talked.

- I know, mother, - a familiar husky voice responded. – I’ll take care of it.

There was a pause.

- The right way.

As you dressed, you had disturbingly erotic flashbacks from last night. You were with Aegon. Surely. Blonde hair. Strong arms. No doubt there was no one else you would “accidentally” fuck while drunk.

It was no secret you and Aegon had somewhat of a fuck buddy relationship. You got drunk together. You slept together. You did stupid shit together. That was your thing because at the end of the day you didn’t love him. Didn’t even like him. Probably couldn’t tolerate him sober. Although, that theory had never been tested due to both of you never staying sober for long.

He was a nice toy, a nice placeholder, coincidentally beneficially looking a quite similar to a different man who often craved...

As you went down for breakfast, you were met with few servants giving you dirty looks. It would bother you if you weren’t so damn hungry.

Maybe they heard me and Aegon last night.

That had to be it.

Entering the dinner hall, you immediately noticed two things – your mother looked nervous and Aegon was nowhere to be found. Furrowing your brows, you went to sit down in your usual spot – next to Aegon’s seat that was empty this morning. Then you noticed that your spot at the table – where there usually would be dishes of food and glasses of drinks – was empty as well.

- Did we rearrange seats? – you half-laughed, looking at your family.

Your father gave you a look of pity, while your mother looked down. Even both of your brothers were silent.

Freaky.

The queen cleared her throat and silently tilted her head to the empty seat in front of her. In front of her and right beside prince Aemond who sat back in his seat with one hand on the table, clearly enjoying your confusion way too much.

Not wanting to create a scene and question these changes, you went to take your seat when Aemond suddenly stood up to pull back your chair for you. You stopped, surprised.

- My lady, - prince greeted, a smug look on his face – You look well rested this morning.

That was a weird statement and clearly not the truth but you brushed it off and sat down. Your eyes kept going to back to where Aegon was supposed to be.

If he was with you last night, where did he go? How did he make it back to his room drunk out of his mind?

- Where’s Aegon? – you asked no one in particular.

When no one answered you, you locked eyes with the man on your left.

He was already looking at you.

- He’s probably passed out somewhere, - Aemond explained softly. – I heard he had quite a night.

You wanted to throw out something witty or laugh but you had strong suspicion you and Aegon were heard last night so saying something right now might be innapropriate...

Where did he pass out though? When did he leave?

- With one of the servant girls...

It took your foggy brain a sizeable amount of time to process his whole sentence together. Aemond’s eyes didn’t leave your face, as you finally put the words together.

Passed out somewhere... quite a night... with one of the servant girls...

Wine on your lips got bitter aftertaste. It took you a lot of effort to swallow down a gulp. Your eyes met with the queen’s over the table. She looked at you. As a matter of fact, everyone at the table was.

You put the wine down and cleared your throat. Aegon... No, he had to be the one in your room last night...

Involuntarily a horrified realization washed over you.

The words were different...

He’ll never touch you again.

The touch was different.

The scent was different.

The man was different.

Because it was not the same man at all...

Your head snapped to your left where Aemond sat, quite satisfied with your reaction. You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by your mother.

- I think it’s best if we just get this over with, - she said. – The less time passes before the wedding, the less people will talk about this... incident.

You turned to your mother.

- What incident? – you asked.

It seemed like your mother had trouble putting it into decent words so she looked down again. It was your father, Daemon, who spoke up.

- People know about your... nightly endeavours, daughter, - he finished. – A wedding as soon as possible would help your reputation and serve as an alliance.

- Wedding with who? – you started to feel cold sweat cover your back. – Wedding with-

You couldn’t finish once you felt warm fingers touch the side of your neck. You knew it was Aemond before even turning your head. His fingers slowly stroked your skin and you felt a small ping of pain exactly where Aegon... Aegon had...

Where Aemond had left a hickey. Last night. When he fucked you.

- I think it’s for the best, wife, - he savored the title on his tongue. – We don’t want people saying that the man who took your virginity didn’t want your hand in marriage...

You straight up laughed, roughly batted his arm away from your neck and stood up to tower over him.

- If it’s the virginity that’s so important for marriage, I should probably marry Aegon! – you hit the table with your hand.

Aemond stood up too, and you had suspicion he only did that to gain height advantage. He leaned in closer, into your personal space, and whispered so only you would hear him:

- There is no proof of that, aside from suspicion from our families, - he chuckled darkly. – But there’s more than enough evidence for what we did last night.

You looked up at him, horrified how well he had thought everything through.

- I guess it’s a good thing both of you hid your relationship this well, - he smiled and continued talking to you in his low, husky voice. – And, unless you’re ready to publicly admit you lost your virginity to a married man, I’m afraid formally you lost it to me...

You slapped him across the face with all the strength you could muster after last night.

His head tilted to the side only a little bit. The bastard laughed.

- There’s that spirit from last night! – he said, looking at you thriumphantly. – Save it for our marriage bed, princess.

- Aemond, - the queen warned him.

In any other case, you would be horrified to have these things said to your in front of your family. Right now you didn’t care.

- You set me up! – you accused, and upon realizing that nothing will salvage your reputation in front of these people, added just as loudly. – I thought you were Aegon!

He saw a glimpse of irritation that you now recognized as familiar because that’s the look he always got whenever you spoke about his brother. Then it just as quickly disappeared and was exchanged for a smirk.

- And still you called for me, - he had lowered his voice again, as if not wanting to share too much of your intimacy with anyone. – You came for me. You screamed for me.

- Fuck you!

Glimpse of amusement flashed in his eye and only now somewhere in your brain it registered that he hadn’t worn the eye patch while fucking you. Glimpses of memories of the blue saphire solidified the fact that it was indeed Aemond who was with you last night.

- That you will too, - he promised darkly. – You’ll never fuck nobody else, wife. If you dare to attempt that, I’ll deliver his cock to your as a gift to look at while your husband fucks you...

You had no idea how much people around you had heard, and, frankly, didn’t care.

- It’s just you and I from now on, princess...

[vilhelios]

-; I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU. / IT'S ROTTEN WORK.

(NOT TO ME, NOT IF IT'S YOU) ; in which wriothesley lets you tend to his wounds after the dramatic affair with the beret society.

CW: not beta-read. cerberus chapter spoilers! gn!reader, slight hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood, injury, and violence. mention of scars (+ my headcanons of how wrio got some of them), & finally, lovesick loser wrio!

"i'm telling you, sunshine, i can handle it myself."

at his words, your hands still, pristine rolls of gauze and bandages already soaking in red blood. a frown breaks across your countenance as you glare up at wriothesley, eyebrows furrowed. there will be no stopping this, you know; there will be days where your beloved duke returns to your arms with a new wound that you're sure will scar. days he brandishes blooming bruises on his knuckles, and you'll eventually press butterfly kisses to them. perhaps, he will crawl into your loving embrace, his warm home, with blood dripping from his fingertips. (grimly, you wonder how much of it will be his own. you know you'll thank the archons when it's not all his.)

with a sigh and a dab of the alcohol-soaked cotton against his exposed side, you mutter: "you always say that. look where that's got you now."

"it's just a scratch."

"wri, it's a bullet wound. you're lucky it only just grazed you."

"so... what i'm hearing is that it really is just a scratch."

now that earns him another glare (which he sheepishly smiles at).

"look, as stupid as it may sound," he sighs, clear blue eyes finding your own, "i didn't think dougier would have a gun with him." the duke's expression contorts ever so slightly, a weak hiss slipping from his gritted teeth, as you rub a cooling ointment against his angry, red wound. "didn't think he'd have that many gardemeks either."

(another comment, much quieter: "and i thought it'd be cool, really.")

and with that, you both fall into relative silence. the classical music playing from the office gramaphone, your steady breathing, and the occasional pained hiss from wriothesley (followed by your whispered string of apologies) permeate the space between. in the quiet, your mind eventually runs rampant with thoughts of your love getting injured. wriothesley may have proven to you time and time again that he would always return to your side, but he wasn't invincible. your gaze wanders, frowning further when you soak in the sight of the scars that mar his chest. they do nothing to comfort you.

"hey," wriothesley starts, when he notices your stare on the claw marks etched into the skin of his neck. they stretch downwards, the cruel tally marks stopping right above where his heart would be. you try not to think about how they could've easily torn out his throat. "i know you'll still worry about me, but i've been through much worse." he raises his own hand to trace the scars, playing with the black wraps around his neck; "and, as you can see... i fought and won."

( you know he has. he's told you all about them, once. on a sleepless night, where you two lay in bed and traced designs on each other's skin. his calloused fingers against your softer flesh, your touch along the lines of his many scars. some were from fierce sea creatures, he tells you, with a teasing lilt in his voice that makes you giggle. others from his time serving his sentence, fighting for his life in the ring. when you trace one along the back of his arm, smaller than the rest, his voice gets a little softer — he got it on the day he spilt his first blood. you had kissed along all his scars that night, and he had returned the favour with a shower of kisses along your cheeks.)

"promise me you'll be more careful." you say, as you unroll a new roll of gauze and begin wrapping it around his torso. it's a beat, and then two, and when he doesn't respond you turn your gaze back to him.

wriothesley frowns, now. he could do cheeky proclamations of victory, tell you he'll always crawl back to your side alive... but he can't promise you that. not with your current lives in meropide. "you know i can't—"

"wriothesley." the syllables roll off your tongue and he quickly seals his mouth shut—it's been a good, long while since his full name has graced your lips. (he much preferred wrio, or sweetie, or darling; something from you that made him kinder. softer.) "please?"

the silence comes back for a heartbeat. you think you feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes—

"alright, alright. i'll try." he says, quickly relenting to your teary-eyed gaze. and when that's not good enough for you, highlighted by the pout of your lips and the slightly-aggressive tightening of his bandage wrappings, he says: "fine. i promise to be more careful. as best as i can."

a smile graces your lips. (wriothesley thinks he's seen the sun. you, his darling star, whose mere presence lights up his gloomy underworld.)

"sigewinne and i will keep you to it then."

he can't help the way he leans into your warmth as you press a quick, gentle peck to his temple nor can he help how he almost whines when you step away from him. his gaze is on you even as you pack up the first aid kit and make your way to the stairs (how cruel you are, leaving your lover while he toils in pain!) wriothesley stands from where he leans against his table, just as you reach the bottom of the stairs. he stands up a little straighter, smiles as you shout out:

"oh, and i heard from the traveller! your stunt did sound pretty cool."

a/n: happy birthday wriothesley! here's a very short, indulgent, not beta-read thing to celebrate his birthday and his c1 coming home during his banner! sorry if he's a little ooc or this is just. a really oddly worded / structured fic — this was very much so written in a haze after seeing his story quest cutscene... he's so dreamy. . ..

[suenoji]

nerd!eren SUPREMACY!!! my favorite white boy! i wanna make a little series with him so bad… reblogs and feedback appreciated!

contains: just m!masturbation

nerd!’ren and reader took it slow when they first met. trips to the library, the icecream shop to get your favorite caramel and pralines double scoop. then his or your dorm when you two had to study some more. it was preferably done in your room, cause he just loved getting the chance to see what new things furnished your dorm. maybe another pillow? a fluffy crocheted blanket? some decor? a new candle. whatever it was it made him happy seeing you swell and overflow with joy.

you’d get all bouncy, dancing around your room on the tip of your toes. slipping off all your clothes till your in nothing but a tank top and some really short shorts with no panties. then eren proceeds with his usual. he goes to bathroom, he’s gotta piss or so he says. but really he’s just a weirdo, he stares at your hamper. eyes glazed and fixated on the black laced thong that sat at the top of the pile. he moves quickly. he plucks them from the top and balls it up in his hand. then he’s putting up to his nose, inhaling every inch of you relishing in the scent that gets him harder then ever. his back’s to the door and he’s tugging his sweats down. he’s gulping down his whimpers as his fists wraps around his cock. his thumb is shaky as he swipes it over his tip. translucent beads of precum pearl at his tip, and drip down his sides following the shape of each vein as they flow to the base of his cock. for the most part, he keeps himself trimmed, but he’s been so stressed with school it’s gotten a bit messy.

from the other side of your bathroom door you can hear him groaning. there’s a lewd air that permeates the door as the sound of his palm, wet and sticky against his cock, grows louder. your fingers don’t do enough to stimulate your clit. you feel like such a loser. why can’t you just open the door and tell him every time he comes over your pussy gets all sticky and that masturbation doesn’t quell the thought. seeing his print through his loser sweats, the brunette strands that travel down them. he’s a curse, a big freaking loser who you need in between your legs. but it only gets worse. you hear him groan your name and your stomach does flips. it’s not only your name, it’s the things he says after. like how he wants to put a baby in you, he wants to knock up the pretty girl who only cares about herself and her grades. he’s moaning about how he’d give you the best dick of your life if you’d give him a chance. you always look like you want to give him a chance too, so is he wrong for assuming so?

on the other side of the door, he’s dripping profusely. his knuckles are trembling as he milks himself, his tummy jerks with each pull. he’s thrusting his hips, fucking his hand and losing himself in the smell of you. then he gets the big idea to cum on your panties. his balls twitch from overstimulation, but his slit pulses as more cum trickles out into your panties. he pants weakly, ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ spew from his mouth. he’s hot, his dick won’t go down, and he made a fucking mess of your panties. you can hear him shuffling on the other side. you hear the turmoil, the disgust with himself for being such a whimp. “um, ‘ren? you okay in there?” you slightly shout as you step away from the door.

“yeah...ha- totally! i-i just made a little bit of a mess so i just have to clean up…a-around the sink…haha.” he’s damn awkward and such a terrible liar.

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

You Should Find Another Guiding Light - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Dear Reader Duology: Part 1, Part 2

Summary: With you drunk at Kelce’s party, Rafe has to drive you, his ex, home. Neither of you are over each other and both of you know it, for better or for worse. That doesn’t make things easy. Not at all. Word Count: 3.7k+ TWs/CWs: She/her pronouns used, adult/profane language, descriptions of a party, descriptions of drunkenness, a guy being a weirdo, Rafe being a little bit crazy, angst with the potential for a happy ending, I guess. Note: The title is in fact a Taylor Swift lyric lol. I don’t know, I just wanted to dip my toes in the OBX writing arena and I just had this idea pop into my head and not leave me alone so here it is. I think I might end up doing a part 2 for this just because I don’t want this to be Sad, but we shall see.

Rafe heard the chant of, “Go, go, go, go,” from the other side of the house.

The chant didn’t interest him even remotely. Pretty much nothing about the party did, actually. And if it weren’t at Kelce’s house while his parents were out of town, he wouldn’t have even bothered to come. The high he’d been riding had faded nearly an hour ago, and the drink in his hand was not nearly strong enough. He wasn’t even buzzed anymore, this was boring. All these fucking parties were boring now. Had been since…well, long enough now.

“Rafe,” he heard to his left, while about to bring the cup to his lips. He cut his eyes to the side. It was Topper, a grim look on his face, lips turned firmly downward. Rafe raised an eyebrow, lowering the cup. “Get the fuck out here, I need your help.”

“What?” he asked, huffing as he put down his cup on the nearest surface. Before Topper could answer, though, Rafe noted the ongoing chants from outside. A chant that was exclusively a mixture of his ex’s name—your name, the reason that nothing was enjoyable anymore—and cheers. “Oh fucking hell no.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Topper said dryly. “Me and Kelce just had to stop her from doing a keg stand in a skirt.”

“I swear to God,” Rafe growled. 

Rafe shouldered past him quickly making his way outside. You were dancing. He didn’t inherently have a problem with that. He loved watching you dance, in fact. Especially when you were drunk. But, that wasn’t even half the issue. He was torn between a mixture of fury and concern when he saw you, standing on top of the outdoor bar with some random guy holding your legs and trying to look up your skirt. The skirt that Rafe knew personally you almost never wore anything under. He couldn’t even imagine how drunk you were right now to not be flicking that guy’s hands off of you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Topper advised.

“Shut the fuck up, Top,” Rafe retorted harshly.

He strode forward, landing his hand aggressively on the guy’s shoulder and squeezing it until the man winced and tried to pull away. Then, Rafe only squeezed tighter. The guy shouted in protest to the rough grip, but Rafe didn’t care. The tool still had the nerve to have his fucking hand on your leg. You hadn’t even noticed that Rafe was standing there yet, which was another mark to just how out of it Rafe knew you had to be.

“What the fuck, Cameron?” the guy demanded.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Rafe spat. “And what the fuck do you think that you’re doing?”

The guy, obviously far too stupid for his own good, smirked at Rafe. Actually fucking smirked. Rafe felt his blood pressure rising. Rafe saw, somewhere in his periphery that Topper and Kelce were both coming his way. He didn’t particularly care. He could easily handle this loser himself.

“You two aren’t even together anymore,” the guy said smugly. “So, last I checked she’s a free agent, isn’t she?”

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ,” Kelce muttered behind him.

Rafe paid no mind to it, hand moving from the guy’s shoulder to his throat. Rafe smiled at the shock in the guy’s eyes, an angry glint in his eyes. He ignored the other’s weak attempts at dislodging him and instead took a step closer, glaring down at the little fucker.

“Take your hand off her or you won’t have a hand,” he said flatly. Idiot that he was, literally being choked and surrounded by Rafe’s friends, the guy still didn’t move his hand. Rafe let out a harsh laugh, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking more pissed by the second. “We can jump from you losing the hand to me killing you. Your fucking choice.” Starting to go purple in his face, Rafe laughed at the guy again, not loosening his hold. He reached over with his other hand, peeling his grip off of your leg, squeezing hard enough that Rafe was shocked the bones weren’t cracking. “Wasn’t so fucking hard to listen, was it?”

“Rafe,” Topper said sharply.

Rafe glanced back at him and then rolled his eyes. He let go of the guy and threw him away, hard, towards the ground. A good friend as always, Kelce caught the guy, then he and Topper started walking the jackass out to make sure he actually left the party. Yeah, Rafe was going to have to make sure that he never saw that guy again. Or, if he did, that it wasn’t in public like this. Rafe turned his attention back to you and was startled to see you looking down at him already.

“Rafe?” you asked, cocking your head to the side, looking, quite frankly, like a confused puppy.

Clenching his jaw, Rafe reached up, patting the bare skin of your leg, forcing himself to keep it brief and not let his hands linger on the bare skin. “Come on, Princess,” he said firmly.

Your brow furrowed. “Fuck you! I’m having fun,” you slurred.

At that, Rafe let himself roll his eyes. “Yeah. I’m not letting you dance on the bar and do a fucking striptease. You’ll hate yourself tomorrow,” he said sharply. You glared down at him, but Rafe didn’t care, knowing that he was absolutely right. “Get the fuck down.” You didn’t listen, unsurprisingly—you never had—so he physically grabbed you, carefully maneuvering your body off the bar without exposing you to the whole party.

“Rafe,” you whined, “stop it. I don’t want to go with you!”

“Liar,” he said, scoffing before he could stop himself. When you were level with his face, he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “Stop fucking fighting me before you flash somebody.”

You glared at him. “Who cares if I do?” you asked.

Once again, Rafe rolled his eyes. “I’ll take their fucking eyes out. But, let’s not do this, Princess. I’ve had enough shit today without this added on,” he said through grit teeth, losing the limited patience he’d started with. He helped you off the bar—manhandled you, really—until you were standing on your feet, using his body for support to stay upright. 

“You have no right,” you said, sniffing.

“How much have you even had to drink?” Rafe asked, amusement overcoming his irritation for a second.

“Oh fuck you,” you repeated, pushing weakly at his chest, even though your hand tangled in the bottom of his shirt like it always did when you were utterly sloshed. “I haven’t even had that much!” You then took on a distinctly dizzy look, swaying and Rafe cursed, catching your waist to steady you. “See? I’m fine!”

“Yeah, you’re so fine,” he agreed sarcastically. 

Without waiting for you to say anything else, Rafe started guiding you toward the exit. He nodded at Kelce and Topper as they passed. He ignored the looks on his friends’ faces as best he could. He didn’t need to think about the shit he’d get from them about this in the morning. No, instead, he focused on forcing you into the passenger seat of his truck and making you get buckled up. Only after Rafe got into the car and started it did you seem to register that you weren’t at the party anymore.

“Hey! Where the hell are you taking me? I’m not going home with you!” you slurred, clearly in an argumentative mood.

“No. You’re not. I’m taking you home. To your house,” he replied, patience coming back at least a little bit now that they weren’t in the stupid party crowd.

“Rafael Cameron you fucking suck,” you accused glaring at him.

“Why’s that?” Rafe asked, backing up and then putting the car in drive and practically peeling out of Kelce’s driveway.

You scoff at his question. It would be adorable if it weren’t at his expense, Rafe was sure. “First you fucking break up with me out of nowhere! And give me no explanation at all! And you take half our fucking friends in the end! And then you kill the goddamn vibe the second I try to have fun at a party,” you declare sounding genuinely pissed.

“That’s not—” Rafe began, stopping himself with a sigh when you cut him off.

“No! Shut up!” you demanded, hitting his arm, once, twice, a third time, until Rafe sharply pulled over and turned to glare at you. He was angry now, except his anger was short-lived. The moment he met your eyes and saw that yours were full of tears, he deflated. Your bottom lip trembled and Rafe had to actively count his breaths to keep from not reacting to it. “Why are you ruining parties now? Was my life not enough for you? You have to take the rest of the good things left too?”

Rafe inhaled shakily. He pinched his nose and tapped his fingers against the wheel and then looked back towards you. “You know you didn’t want someone else touching you,” he said calmly. “You hate when people think they can touch you at parties. You always have.” He took a breath. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you. Especially when you’re too drunk to think clearly.” You went to retort but Rafe shook his head. “No. Stop. Just listen to me.” You rolled your eyes and looked away. Rafe caught your chin and turned your face so you were looking at him again. “I’m not going to watch some losers take advantage of you. Ever. You think that’d stop?”

“Why do you even care?” you spat, displaying sadness more than the anger he knew you were going for.

“Don’t ask me that,” Rafe warned, shaking his head. “Don’t act like you don’t know already. The dumb act has never worked for you.”

You scoffed. “Oh? So you’re a coward now too on top of everything else? Cool,” you said. “Can’t even talk to me, huh?”

Rafe let go of your face and turned away from you, pulling back on the road and driving faster now towards your house. “You know damn well why I care,” he said through grit teeth.

“Do I?” you challenged.

“Princess,” he said sharply, “don’t do this right now.” He took a deep breath even though he didn’t want to. “You’re drunk.”

“And?” you demanded. “That makes me an idiot?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said, groaning in irritation. You swatted at his chest again. And truly, if this were anyone else, he’d have kicked them out of the car. But it was you. “Come on, Princess.” He tapped the steering wheel to manage the anxiety brewing in his chest at the thought. “We can have a conversation about it when you’re sober if you want. But I’m not doing this with you drunk. Fuck that.”

“Fuck you,” you reiterated as if you hadn’t already said it to him a thousand times that night.

Even with that declaration, you were blessedly quiet the rest of the ride. You fiddled with the heat on your side of the truck, getting comfortable, and just stared out of the window. And for the rest of the ride, Rafe could almost pretend that things were normal. The way that they should’ve been. Except that you were leaning on the door and not him. And that both of his hands were on the wheel, instead of one resting on your leg. And your stony silence, even when your favorite songs came on the shared playlist neither of you had gotten around to deleting yet. The silence in the car in general, really.

At your house, Rafe had to nearly throw himself from the car to get to your side before you opened the door and tumbled out. Even doing that, you nearly fell from the truck in an uncoordinated heap, stubbornly not wanting his assistance. He huffed and righted your feet on the ground, holding your waist and looking you over. You leaned into the touch for a second before seemingly realizing it, then you pulled wildly away, nearly falling again until he caught you.

“You can be angry after I get you to your room,” he said firmly.

“Fine,” you muttered, frowning.

Rafe went to move but you wouldn’t move. He tried to force you to move, but you resisted every logical piece of your mind, and every attempt he made. You were firmly stuck to your spot as if trying to grow roots like a tree. So, he picked you up again, carrying you to the door. Graciously, your parents weren’t in town and the house was empty, so no one had to see this disaster unfold. 

He took your key and unlocked the door easily, locking it behind them for the time being. He didn’t really feel like risking someone coming in when he was corralling a drunk you and he couldn’t pay full attention to everything else. Then, he carried you upstairs like it was nothing to him. He dropped you gently on your bed and avoided looking at you as he grabbed a pair of clothes for you to change into. He went into your bathroom and got makeup remover, knowing that you’d be pissed if you woke up with a trace of makeup still on your face still. 

As he walked back into the room, Rafe regretted leaving almost immediately. Your eyes were swimming with tears and a few were spilling down your cheeks. You looked away from him, trying to avoid his gaze, but he wasn’t an idiot. He’d noticed. You tried to scrub them away and he sighed almost silently. Rafe put the stuff down on the bed next to you and then knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your hands but didn’t say anything and waited.

“I hate you,” you said weakly, bottom lip wavering.

“I know,” he said, nodding. He cracked a fake grin. “I do too.”

“Fuck you,” you said, shaking your head. You sniffled and Rafe immediately knew that he wasn’t leaving for a while still. He stroked the back of your hands and waited once more. You always cracked. It didn’t take long, only a few breaths. “I love you. I…I fucking hate you.” You leaned heavily toward him and he wrapped his arms around you without hesitation. “I love you. I wish I didn’t.”

“I know,” he repeated. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. He let out a slow breath, deciding that fuck it, it didn’t matter anyway anymore, not if he didn’t think you’d remember this in the morning. “I love you too, Gorgeous. You know that.”

You let out a watery laugh. “No I don’t,” you denied. He frowned at the words. “You left me. I…I hate that you left me. I didn’t do anything!”

Rafe sighed. “We talked about this,” he said quietly.

“Fuck you. You decided. We didn’t talk about anything!” you reminded him.

And that was true. He grabbed your chin again, forcing your eyes to meet yet again. This time though, he leaned your foreheads together. Your bottom lip trembled, but you happily stayed close to him. He took it as the tiny, tiny, minuscule win that was. He moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, thumb tracing a pattern up and down, soothing and slow.

“I need to make sure you’re safe,” he reminded you.

“You’re stupid,” you said, pulling away from him. “Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I’m safe. Everyone knows that we were together. Everyone knows that to get to you they’d just have to use me. So I’m not suddenly more safe.”

“Safe from me,” Rafe gruffly corrected. When you open your mouth to retort, eyes alight with anger, he places his hand over your mouth. “Like I said, Gorgeous. We can talk about this later. When you’re not drunk. If you even want to still.”

“Oh? You’ll stop ignoring me then?” you asked from behind his hand. “Act like the adults that we are?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been giving you space,” he said. He let out a rough sigh, then shook his head, reminding himself that this would have to wait. “I promise we will talk about it if you want to. “Now can I please just help you change and get this stupid fucking makeup off you?”

Miracle of miracles, you didn’t try to fight him on it. So, he helped you change, ignoring the wandering hands and clumsy advances from you with ease. And then he forced you to get all the makeup off and brush your teeth. Then, he made you drink a bottle of water and settle in bed. You were pouting at him, tears still falling from your eyes—he didn’t know if they’d stopped since they started—that he brushed away lazily. Rafe sighed and sat next to you, stroking your cheek. Your hand landed on his knee, the touch almost hard as though you needed to squeeze his leg to remember he really was there. It broke his fucking heart.

“Come on, you gotta stop. We just got more water in you,” he said softly. “You know I can’t leave you when you’re upset like this. Not when you’re alone here.” He nearly winced at his phrasing when you seemed to cry harder for a moment. “Come on, Princess. You gotta stop crying.”

“Then I guess you can’t leave,” you replied shakily.

Rafe bit his lip, looking down at you. Knowing that he was already fucked anyways, he moved, pulling you practically into his lap. He held you tightly, glad that you didn’t even make an attempt at brushing the affection off. No, you leaned into the touch like you’d been starved of love your whole life. You laid your head right over his heart, eyes closed. He felt the way that your hands tapped the rhythm of his heartbeat into his arm. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I don’t want you to doubt that I love you. I don’t want you to doubt that…that our relationship is…was real,” Rafe said. “I do love you. It’s just…hard, Gorgeous.”

You turned your head up to meet his eyes. He watched a flurry of intense emotions—every single one he’d ever experienced…more, maybe—flash through your eyes in a matter of seconds. You reached up and stroked his cheekbone…his nose…his lips. Then, you dropped your hand to lay on his chest, right next to where your head was.

“We’ll talk about it,” you declared. “I want to. We have to.”

“Okay, Princess,” he agreed softly. He knew that there was a chance sober you wouldn’t actually want to talk to him. He could ignore that in the meantime. He could live in this moment. In the false hope of a promised future where you did want to talk to him. “We’ll talk.”

You leaned up and pressed an incredibly short fleeting kiss to his lips before burying your face in his chest. He closed his eyes and held you tighter, wishing that things were…different.  “Can you just…stay until I fall asleep?” you asked quietly. “I know you won’t stay all night, but…please?”

Rafe’s heart, again, broke for you. And he hated himself for hurting you the way that he was. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. He stroked your arms, soothing. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, Princess.” He knew it wouldn’t be long anyhow. Your eyes were already heavy, staying shut longer than they were staying open.

“I miss you, Rafe,” you admit quietly.

“I miss you too,” he said, equally quiet.

You paused. “I love you,” you said.

Rafe inhaled shakily. “I love you too. So much,” he said, voice sounding choked and short.

“Do you promise?” you whispered.

He paused. He had no doubt you heard his heart stutter in his chest. “I promise.”

Your eyes started to drift closed longer and longer while Rafe rubbed a soothing pattern up and down your back until he was sure you were asleep. You were incredibly beautiful in this peaceful sleep, with even breathing and a smile on your face. It was the happiest he’d seen you look in a while. He knew it was his fault. Again, he hated himself for it. It made him sure that he did the right thing even if it killed you both right now.

He had to leave.

He let out a sigh and pressed another kiss to your forehead, then another. He took the time to inhale your scent, memorize the way that you felt in his arms…to be with you again. Then, carefully, he got out of your grasp and stood. Rafe then settled you comfortably on your bed and tucked you in. He pressed a final kiss to your forehead then stood and walked to your bedroom door.

He had to leave. He didn’t want to.

For a beat, Rafe paused in the doorframe. He looked down at your sleeping frame. He longed to just lay down with you and forget the trials of the past two months without you. The hell he went through without you. He shook his head though. You deserved better. He was sure of it. He was almost certain that sober you would agree. Still, as he walked quietly down the hall, locking the door again behind himself, and slipping out back to his truck, he found himself hoping. Hoping that you would call him. Hoping that you would still want to talk.

He had to leave. He didn’t want to. He loved you.

In the quiet of his car, he took the time to look at his phone. Just after two thirty in the morning now. Your smiling face, still his wallpaper, looked back at him. He stared at the image of you, smiling at him like he was the sun, and felt his heart squeeze so tightly it took his breath away. 

He had to leave. He didn’t want to. He loved you. You were everything, even now.

He started the car and started to drive back to his own place now. He tapped at the steering wheel again to avoid chewing at his nails like you hated—even now you kept him from bad habits he had, even if they were the little ones.

Rafe knew he wasn’t strong enough to stay away and he didn’t want to.

Even if it made him selfish, he hoped you called him—he hoped for a second chance.