#i think the conclusion makes sense to come to but i really love that the project allows for so much gray area and deliberation :')

[flowersforthemachines]

Lucanis's Logbook, 6

Relationships: Female Rook/Lucanis Word count: 3300 (oneshot, complete) Rating: General Audiences Main tags: Diary/Journal, Established Relationship, Mid-canon, Missing scene, Angst

Excerpt and summary:

We are back from Tearstone Island. Rook is gone. Davrin and Bellara are gone. I don't know what else to say.

Lucanis’s journal kept throughout the time between Rook’s disappearance at Tearstone Island and the day she’s rescued from the Fade.

[good-beans]

It makes me sad when people read the Milgram vote percentages as if it's saying characters are "more deserving" of a verdict with a higher percentage. A big ratio number doesn't mean we really think they deserve that verdict, maybe everyone who voted for that outcome just barely came to that decision. It's showing the ratio of final decision of the fan base, not the strength of their opinions...

I just feel like it dumbs down/ignores so much of the complex reflection that goes on for a lot of fans. Maybe some people vote with 100% of their spirit, but for a lot of people it's an interesting and complex choice that may be made hesitantly because of all the factors at play

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[lucky-clover-gazette]

the way prince's gambit depicts the "attraction -> attachment -> acceptance of Having Feelings -> crush -> private acceptance of love" pipeline is way too fucking real

[dennisboobs]

most annoying thing about being me is that i cannot engage with like. any fanon shit about dennis because i'm constantly on some advanced derangement and the stuff i thought two years ago when i was first getting comfy in the fandom is still the way everyone else looks at dennis but i'm like. yes but its Worse than this. you're like a quarter of the way there. this isn't the interesting bit, this is a symptom of it, keep going.

[rookru]

i think what some people don’t understand is sometimes i will be obsessed with a media and then realize a few months after the fixation leaves me that i don’t even like it that much. but there could be one character or aspect or something about it that compels me so i have to know everything about the media just so i understand everything there is to understand about that one single aspect

[sovonight]

,

[tender-rosiey]

Hi. This is my first time writing arequest so i dont really know what im doing but i love your husband sukuna series and i wanna ask for a husband sukuna with a shy baby daughter bc your sukuna is 🤌

reluctance — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works <33 hope this one is to your liking as well MWUAH 🫶

“come on, d/n,” you coax gently.

your daughter, barely two years old, shakes her head from behind your legs, her tiny hands clutching the fabric of your kimono as she hides from the imposing figure of her father.

sukuna stands at the doorway, his arms crossed, his usual stern expression in place.

“she’s still hiding?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, his deep voice filling the room, though it isn’t harsh.

you kneel, gently petting your daughter’s head, “she’s shy. you know how she gets when you’re around.”

sukuna exhales slowly. he observes your daughter quietly. wide-eyed but cautious, her tiny fingers tightening their grip on you. your daughter was notably quite soft.

it didn’t help that her father, sukuna, didn’t exactly have the most inviting presence.

“come here,” he says, his tone gruff, holding out a hand.

the little girl hesitates, her bottom lip trembling slightly. you place a reassuring hand on her back and whisper softly, “it’s okay” you smile, “that’s your dad; he won’t hurt you.”

at your words, sukuna looks down at your daughter, his daughter.

she looks up at you, then back at sukuna. with the smallest shuffle, she takes one step toward him then sees him quirk an eyebrow which makes her quickly retreat, still unsure.

sukuna clicks his tongue, while you giggle. your daughter clings harder onto you at the sound of his disapproval.

“she sure is jumpy,” he says, stretched hand moving to rest on his hips, “how the hell is that my daughter?”

“ever studied biology?”

“do not get smart with me,” he warns, but his threats have long lost their effect on you.

the little interaction gives your daughter a sense of familiarity, seeing you talk so easily with him. with some courage finally mustered, your daughter blinks up at sukuna, her small voice barely audible as she mumbles, “papa...?”

sukuna’s sharp gaze relaxes just the faintest bit at the sound of her voice, “yes. I’m right here.”

she stares for another moment, before she toddles over to him. she stumbles and holds desperately onto his legs. she looks up at him, and he gives her no reaction.

your daughter takes that as a good sign, and she looks back at you with sparkly eyes.

“there you go,” you laugh, standing up. “see? not so bad.”

sukuna looks at your daughter, then back at you, “you coddle her too much.”

you fold your arms with a playful smirk, “she’s two. she’s allowed to be coddled a little.”

“she’ll be stronger if she learns early.” sukuna’s voice is firm. she is clinging to him now, a little less hesitant as she begins to tug at his kimono.

she lets out small mumbles as she tries to gain his attention.

"uh-huh, sure," you tease, stepping closer and placing your hand on his forearm, "you’re so tough, honey. maybe we should get her a little curse to toughen her up. would that make you happy?"

he scoffs but doesn’t answer, his attention flicking back to the girl holding onto him. you could see the faintest hint of something in his expression, though it wasn’t something he would ever acknowledge verbally.

for some reason, the scene of his daughter faced with a curse, at least in this age, doesn’t particularly please him.

her eyes are soft. her entire being is. there is no way that she would survive, and knowing his little daughter, she will burst into tears the moment the curse appears. that conclusion makes him think.

he stays silent, before he finally mutters, "never mind. she's fine the way she is.”

you beam at his words and pull his face down to place a kiss on his cheek, “aww, you are going soft, yay!”

“I will kill you,” he sneers, but then he feels his daughter raise her arms. he looks down at her with a scowl, “what do you want, you brat?”

the tone makes her flinch back, but then she tightens her fist and stutters, “u-up!”

“you and your mother are insolent,” he side-eyes you, and you raise your hands in surrender. his eyes flick back to her, “you ordering me around?”

her eyes start to water, but she tries to persevere, “up…?”

your husband groans and bends down to pick her up. the way he gives into her demands is sweet in its own way.

it would make you laugh, if he didn’t pick you up in process which instead makes you gasp. now, both you and your daughter are carried—effortlessly—in his arms.

you smile widely at your husband, while he avoids looking at you. sukuna instead looks at you daughter. he then asks, “are you happy now?”

your daughter stares silently at him, and he stares at her back. in the midst all this staring, your daughter realizes something: her dad has a second face.

her lips start quivering, and she raises her hands to cover her face as she starts bawling and wailing

“ugh, why is she crying now?” your husband groans, irked by the sudden loud noise.

“your face probably scares her.”

“I hate kids.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

[3hks]

How to Write a CHARMING Villain

Everyone loves a good villain, and they especially love a charming one. If you want to write an antagonist who's both evil yet irresistible, look no further!

1. Show Their "Kindness"

Kindness? Wait, I thought you said we're writing a villain today.

Yup, I mean it--make your antagonist appear kind. Realistically, someone who's polite and friendly is often considered more attractive than someone who's rude and judgmental, so make them kind. It doesn't have to be honest kindness, but you want your readers to doubt the malevolence of your character, if that makes sense.

You can show this kindness through small, daily actions; they don't have to have a lot of impact on the story. Something simple like leaving a big tip, granting a minion a vacation, letting someone go first in the line, and holding open the door all contribute to this image.

2. Smooth Talker

Effective communication is everything. If your villain is eloquent, they seem more capable and intelligent! However, if you're looking to expand further, explore what they can do with their speech.

Does everyone pay attention when they start speaking? Are they able to calmly resolve conflicts verbally? Are they really persuasive? Do they speak elegantly?

Show the effects of their communication skills!

3. Good leader

Make them a good leader. Make them consider how their subordinates might feel. Make them choose good decisions. Perhaps they give their workers days off when they need it. Perhaps they engage with their followers often. Perhaps they're more down-to-earth.

A solid leader looks respectable while a poor one looks ridiculous.

4. Intelligent + Logic

I say this all the time, but make your villains smart, make them logical, make your readers understand where they're coming from. Some of the best antagonists I've ever seen are not the ones that seem excessively evil or unhinged, but rather the ones that seem logical in their actions. And knowing that they're well-aware of their actions and the consequences makes things that much scarier.

if you want a charming villain, you have to start with someone who is competent.

5. Conflicting Moments

At the end of the day, your character is still the antagonist. Yes, they might appear kind, but that's not going to last forever. There will be times when they act unnecessary cruel, and that's okay.

Your audience might be unsettled and confused from the whiplash, and that's okay. Don't force your character into being someone else to satisfy the readers. Embrace the difference.

6. Backstory

Backstories matter for all different types of reasons. From establishing the basis to one's goals, morals, and values to providing the foundation for their character, an effective backstory can do a lot.

However, I want to specifically talk about how the backstory demonstrates someone overcoming their obstacles. If they made it to the present, then they really defied all odds to be here, and honestly? That's admirable (and attractive), no matter what kind of person they turn out to be.

Now, if you're thinking "what if I don't give the antagonist a painful backstory?", I'll address that real quick. You don't have to give them a super depressing past, but there will always be pain and hurt in their past, even if it isn't something "lifechanging" or there 24/7. There is no such thing as a perfect, happy past.

CONCLUSION

To quickly conclude, a charming villain is often not one who appears visibly evil, but one who appears compassionate, intelligent, well-spoken, and acts like a good leader.

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[michanvalentine]

Another thing I absolutely love about Astarion’s redemption arc is how some narrative threads introduced in Act 1 find their resolution in the good ending.

The first and most obvious one revolves around the beautiful concept of a gift.

When the player offers their blood to Astarion, he receives a gift that goes beyond mere nourishment. In that moment, what Tav/Durge is giving him, beyond blood, is understanding and trust.

And this concept comes full circle after the ritual, where this narrative thread finds its conclusion. That’s when Spawn Astarion thanks the player for the gift they have given him—gently guiding him by the hand toward a new path where he is truly free.

But not just free. As the vampire spawn himself says in that ending, he is honestly free. And for that gift, he is grateful.

I think that’s absolutely beautiful.

But the meaning runs even deeper than that. This ties into the theme of seeing and being seen—not in a superficial sense.

After all, Astarion’s appearance is both a curse and a shield, something he has learned to wield, just like his mannerisms, his charming words, and the sarcasm he uses as a distraction.

It’s an important concept because it means going beyond the surface, seeing him for who he truly is, feeling him, and experiencing him in his entirety.

Astarion deeply struggles with his condition—not just as a slave, but as a vampire. He’s so happy to be able to act human again thanks to the Illithid tadpole, to do simple, mundane things like crossing running water or entering a house without permission. And let’s not even talk about his joy at standing under the sunlight.

When you meet him on the beach for the first time and reveal what will happen if they don’t get rid of the Illithid tadpoles, Astarion’s bitter reaction, complete with laughter, shows just how much it truly weighs on him: "Of course it’s going to turn me into a monster, what else did I expect?!"

In fact, when his vampiric nature is revealed for the first time during the bite scene, he fears rejection and is quick to emphasize that he’s not some kind of monster. The morning after, when Shadowheart tactlessly points out this aspect of him, his expression changes, and we can see how being perceived as a monster wounds him. It keeps him at a distance, sets him apart as something other. Later, he will even say outright that he wants to be treated like a person—not as a slave, not as a vampire. Just a person. Not superior, not inferior. Exactly like everyone else. Because Astarion wants to be part of the world, to reconnect with people.

This is especially clear when he approves of Tav’s perspective—that he could find a place for himself in the world, where he could be accepted, supported, if he is willing to open up and do the same for others. He approves because the idea appeals to him—it makes him feel like he can belong. Not as a monster, but as a person finding his way back into the world he once inhabited.

But I’m digressing.

The mirror scene isn’t just there by chance—it’s narratively strategic. In that moment, Astarion explicitly asks the player what they see, because he wants to know how the world perceives him. He worries about how others see him precisely because he feels separate, othered, like a monster. And it’s not a matter of appearance—Astarion knows he’s gorgeous. He’s heard it thousands of times over the centuries. But he’s insecure about his place within the group, within society, within the world.

That’s why he appreciates it when Tav/Durge reassures him on the two things that trouble him most—his piercing gaze (the red eyes of a vampire) and his dangerous smile (the sharp fangs of a predator). He relaxes because, in that moment, he feels accepted. Because he realizes his defining traits aren’t the insurmountable barriers he thought they were. Because the person in front of him sees him—not through the lens of prejudice, but for who he really is.

This theme returns later, during the confrontation with Aurelia and Leon, when Astarion deflects the idea of being heroic by saying, "I can’t be what you see in me." Again, the motif of seeing, of looking deeper, of recognizing something more, of reading between the lines—both of the narrative and of his character.

And it’s beautiful when, the morning after the ritual, that relaxed, happy Astarion, with that wonderful smile on his lips, says that Tav/Durge saw something in him. Something different from everyone else. Something beyond his monstrous nature, beyond his darkest intentions, beyond his fear.

Tav/Durge saw him. Saw his potential.

And if you’re in a romantic relationship with him, in the graveyard scene, Astarion will bring up this idea once again. With a heroic Tav/Durge, Astarion feels safe. And he feels seen. Seen, for god’s sake. That’s huge.

This is where this narrative arc—about perception, about seeing him throughout the entire journey—finds its resolution. Astarion is truly more than what Cazador made him to be. He breaks free from the pattern of monster/vampire. He chooses to start living again. To rediscover himself. To reclaim his identity in the most human way possible—through the world and the people around him.

Perhaps his body has not regained its human traits, but spawn Astarion is, without a doubt, the Astarion who has reclaimed his humanity the most.

[gyaruhana]

thanos fluff hcs pls ?

Thanos/Choi Su-bong - Headcannons

Synopsis: fluffy thanos headcannons..

A/N: i have so many thanos requests i'm tweaking out !! glad to know i'm not the only one who loves him..

Warnings: none just thanos being a cutie :3

➠ Thanos might be a little unhinged but he’s actually a total sweetheart when it comes to his partner

➠ I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again, he always has an arm around you !! he likes touching you in public because he’s very open and proud of you

➠ I’m ngl.. He probably sleeps on top of you 

➠ Somehow, you two go to sleep with you on top of him, his arms around your waist, and then the next morning you wake up with him on top of you practically crushing you

➠ If he wakes up before you he’s going to coax you awake with neck kisses for the record

➠ If you’re both in the squid games, he’s always right next to you. He will never leave your side and he will make sure you’re safe !!

➠ If you almost get killed then he totally dips from the game and decides the money isn’t worth it

➠ To him, you are everything

➠ On a different note, he makes far too many raps about you !!

➠ He’s always talking about how he’s so deeply in love with you and how you’re so pretty and it’s so god damn corny but he refuses to stop

➠ Sometimes he even freestyles out of nowhere

➠ (probably freestyle rapped at your wedding)

➠ Honestly likes playing with your hair and like twirling the strand of hair between his fingers..

➠ He does NOT care if it's corny, he has matching rings with you far before he even proposes to you

➠ He really really really loves matching with you !! 

➠ He probably gained a sixth sense with you too

➠ Like the typa sense that makes him hand you a tissue right before you feel a sneeze coming on

➠ Everyday with him is also super fun because he's always taking you out to places 

➠ Parks, clubs, concerts, beaches- literally anywhere with you because he every place is his favorite place if you're there

➠ In conclusion, he's an absolute sweetie who adores you and wouldn't trade you for anything !!

"Yo, senorita! Did you miss me?" the familiar voice of your boyfriend calls out as he skips toward you. He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him with a smirk. Despite the confident smirk, his eyes told a different story of vulnerability and trust. "I was thinking I could take you out on a nice little date. Treat my girl, yeah?"

[delugyu]

hii ! i definitely need a part 4 of the beomgyu drabble please 😭

hehe glad to see people are still enjoying this

one / two / three / four

(wc: 4.3k / warnings: gyu being kind of a bad friend 😭, dry humping, spit kink sorry, fingering, masturbation, virgin!reader, a bit of nipple play, cum eating, jealousy, some possessiveness)

it feels a little weird when beomgyu hangs out with you again. everything was fine until your mutual friends decided to leave together, leaving him alone with you at the bar. beomgyu had no problem being normal and cool a minute ago, but that all leaves him in an instant.

a month ago, this would have been the easiest thing ever. he would have been able to continue the night laughing and chatting with you like friends. how was he to know that teaching you how to give a handjob was going to lead to all this? that it would make it impossible to even look at you a little too long?

“i’m shocked yeonjun left before you did,” you say. he wonders how you can still talk to him so normally, as if nothing had happened between you two at all.

he tries his best to not make himself a fool in front of you. “yeah,” he says. he doesn’t know what more to say. he can hardly stand to look at you for more than a couple seconds at a time.

“you plan on leaving alone?” you ask. beomgyu’s body tenses for a second. a hopeful part of him thinks you might be flirting, but he also knows hope is synonymous with delusion when it comes to how much he wants you.

“not sure yet. are you?” he asks.

you shrug. “taehyun said he might come by, so i’ll”—the rest of whatever you say gets tuned out by beomgyu. he wants to listen and smile and root for you, and he feels like the worst friend ever for not being able to do so, but it’s so impossible to hear you talk about taehyun when beomgyu’s struggling with these weird feelings for you. he doesn’t even know what he’d call it. it’s not like he’s in love with you, but he feels sick whenever he thinks about you with anyone besides him.

he’s never caught feelings for anyone just from hooking up, so it can’t be that. he’s sure that whatever he feels for you is purely physical. he’s a man, after all; it only makes sense that lust would blind him this badly. he chooses to ignore all the signs that would lead him to any other conclusions.

beomgyu misses when you didn’t care about boys; he didn’t have to deal with all these confusing emotions back then. you and beomgyu were never super close, but being part of the same friend group meant that you at least hung out often. it was always fun and easy, at least until now.

“are you and taehyun really serious now?” he asks. maybe he should’ve bit his tongue, but he trusts that the question is innocent enough at face value.

you seem like you don’t know how to answer that, taking a moment to think of a response. “define serious,” you end up saying.

nothing that comes to beomgyu’s mind would be appropriate to ask you. do you let him touch you? do you go on dates as more than just friends? do you treat him like he’s your boyfriend? and, god forbid, do you have feelings for him?

“are you exclusive with him?”

you blink at beomgyu. “i mean… i guess not.”

“what do you mean you guess not?” beomgyu wants a straight up answer, cause if you’re not exclusive, he’s taking you home tonight, and if you are exclusive… well, taehyun will just have to hate beomgyu’s guts tomorrow.

“we never really talked about it,” you say.

“then you’re not. taehyun would make you his girlfriend if he wanted to badly enough,” beomgyu says, and it comes out much harsher than he intended. he only realizes it when he sees a bit of offense on your face. he quickly tries to recover, “i mean, i’m sure he really likes you, and he’d be super lucky to have you as his girlfriend.”

you just look more confused, brows slightly furrowed, head tilting just a bit. god, beomgyu wants to punch himself. what the fuck is wrong with him?

“what’s the point of this?” you ask.

beomgyu sighs and looks off into the crowd, trying to find his answer. instead, he finds taehyun walking into the bar, scanning the room until his eyes land on you. this is such a joke.

in an ideal world, in which reputation doesn’t matter and beomgyu doesn’t have to be mindful of his actions, he would have taken your hand and ran out of this place with you. he’d kiss you in the parking lot and make sure taehyun was the last thing on your mind. this is not an ideal world, though, and instead beomgyu has to smile at taehyun when he sits next to you.

beomgyu might literally throw up. why are you smiling at taehyun like that? you’ve never smiled at beomgyu with such adoration. taehyun’s whole demeanor is just sunshine and rainbows, and beomgyu’s sure it must feel so swell to have all your attention and affection at his whim.

whatever. “i’m gonna grab a drink,” beomgyu says, excusing himself from the table.

the bartender eyes beomgyu up and down like he knows exactly what’s up. beomgyu’s not exactly trying to act all happy, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s in a bit of a mood.

“just give me something strong and cheap,” beomgyu says. he needs something that will make the sight of you and taehyun being lovebirds semi-tolerable.

he heads back to the table after finishing his drink, and taehyun’s laugh is a lot more grating than he remembers. you look happy to see beomgyu come back, which at least feels like some kind of win. beomgyu’s not drunk, but he’s buzzed enough to sit here without feeling miserable.

some amount of time passes by before taehyun finally seems to be leaving. if you ask beomgyu, he’d say it was about five hours—the clock shows it was more like one.

“oh, come on, you’re not even gonna have one drink?” you laugh, grabbing taehyun’s hand when he gets out of his seat.

“he’s not much of a drinker,” beomgyu answers for him. taehyun laughs and agrees.

“i’ll see you tomorrow though,” taehyun says, squeezing your hand and smiling at you before stepping away. “and we gotta hang out soon too, bro.” taehyun slaps a brotherly hand onto beomgyu’s shoulder, patting it in parting.

“for sure,” beomgyu says, hoping he sells the excitement that he does not feel. he’s such a bad friend, and he feels like shit for not being able to act normal.

you look all set to go a few minutes after taehyun heads out. it’s late into the night, so beomgyu can’t blame you. but he also can’t let you walk home alone like this.

“can i bring you to your place? or at least get you a ride?” beomgyu offers, rising from his seat when you do.

“you can come to mine and just stay over. it’s late and i live closer anyway,” you say. a smile finds its way onto beomgyu’s face before he even realizes it. he’s surprised to see your lips curl up into a sweet smile back at him.

when beomgyu gets to your apartment, he takes his time analyzing your room. you have a lot of decor that he gets to look at while you change into more comfortable clothes in your bathroom. he’s already sitting on your bed when you come back, and his heart does this weird jumpy thing when you’re in his sight again.

“do you want the bed and i’ll just sleep on the couch?” you ask, standing in your doorway. beomgyu laughs at how cautious you are. you act as if you haven’t shared a bed with beomgyu before.

“just come here,” he says, patting the spot on the mattress next to him. you look so shy and sweet when you walk over, taking tiny steps and getting onto the bed like a dainty little thing. “you’re so cute,” he laughs, not bothering to hold back his words. he’s glad he didn’t, cause the way you smile and look away at the compliment makes his heart race.

beomgyu’s got this terrible thing where he just can’t keep his hands off you when you’re alone in a room. he rests a hand on your thigh, innocently enough to just be friendly. he thinks you look so adorable in your pajamas, meanwhile he’s still dressed in the same outfit he went to the bar in. the contrast between that gorgeous dress you wore earlier and the sleep set you wear now is so funny and endearing.

“beomgyu, can i ask you something?” your voice holds some sort of seriousness to it, and it hits beomgyu like ice cold water. his hand stiffens on your thigh.

“anything,” he says.

your hand lands on top of his, just lightly resting over it. your eyes are on your hands instead of beomgyu’s face. he runs his thumb over your skin to soothe you, trying to get you to relax, even if he’s a little scared to hear your question.

“do you not like taehyun?”

beomgyu halts all his movements. he doesn’t even breathe. it lasts just for a second before his facade comes back. “taehyun’s my friend. why are you asking this?”

you pick up beomgyu’s hand and lace your fingers between his. beomgyu thinks it might be the alcohol in your system that’s getting you to act so clingy and brave.

“you just seemed weird about him tonight,” you say.

beomgyu hums and nods slowly. “don’t worry about it,” he reassures, coming in to place a kiss on your cheek. maybe the alcohol’s got him acting brave too.

you turn your head and give him a smile that seems like you’re just begging him to kiss you. beomgyu’s not a strong-willed man—he sees you batting your eyelashes at him and it’s game over. with a hand on your chin, he leans in to give you a sweet kiss, and for the first time, he doesn’t think he has sexual motives behind it.

well, until you moan in his mouth. then he has a bit of a change in plans.

he brings you carefully down to the bed, not disconnecting from your lips once. his hands hold your face still, keeping you nice and pliant for him to lick into your mouth and keep making you mewl.

“we should make a new rule,” beomgyu says, face hovering just an inch from yours. you hum in question. “no more talking about taehyun when we’re alone.” the suggestion is accompanied by a laugh, but beomgyu’s only half-kidding.

“you’re crazy,” you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss. he thinks you’re the best kisser on earth. nothing feels as good as kissing you does, besides maybe making you cum.

“can i touch you?” beomgyu asks, breathing hotly against your lips, hungrily pecking you just for a moment so as to not stop you from answering.

you turn your face to the side then, and the slightest frown tugs at your lips. something about it makes beomgyu’s chest tighten.

“what?” beomgyu asks, coaxing your attention back to him with his gentle fingers on your jaw. he pouts as he observes your hesitance. “do you just want to kiss tonight?” he won’t push you farther than you’re willing to go. he’ll always prioritize your pleasure, and with that comes your comfort.

“gyu, tell me this isn’t wrong,” you say, running a hand through his hair.

“why would it be wrong?” he would hope that everything you do with him feels nothing but right. that’s how it feels to him.

“cause taehyun doesn’t know,” you whisper.

beomgyu’s quiet for a second, then he brushes your hair back soothingly. “he doesn’t need to,” he whispers back. his hand goes beneath your shirt to rest on your waist. the feel of your skin never fails to send electricity down his spine.

“what if he asks me out soon?” beomgyu hates the way your eyes shine when you say that.

“i thought we agreed not to talk about taehyun anymore,” beomgyu laughs, but it doesn’t sound very convincing. taehyun’s name becomes a bitter weight on his tongue.

what will it take for you to forget about him? does beomgyu need to imprint himself into your head? beomgyu’s lips tingle with a need to kiss you again, to burn his taste inside your mouth. he wants you to be full of him in every way you could be.

he leans in to capture your lips slowly, deeply. it’s a mess of saliva and needy moans, but when he feels your hands gripping onto his arms, he feels like a winner. he wants more of that—more of you being desperate for him, less of you thinking about other men. fuck, is kissing you stupid all it takes? because that’s not too bad of a price.

your hips cant up into beomgyu’s, and he can’t stop the laugh he huffs out at your eagerness. he’s normally the one pleading to get you off, so to feel you seeking out pleasure without beomgyu having to beg for it seems like a miracle. he presses his hips into yours, more than willing to give you the relief you’re looking for. you whine as he grinds against you, and he eats up your every noise like it’s what he was made for.

he pulls away to catch his breath, eyes full of lust as he watches your face contort with pleasure. god, he could watch you like this all day. he can’t believe no one else has ever seen this before. he leans down to your neck, sucking hard and not caring whether or not it bruises. he wants you more than words could let you know; he turns to marking you to show you just how bad he craves you.

you yelp when he starts grinding against you a little harder, and he bites down a smirk at the satisfaction he feels. he holds your hips down, keeping you in place so he can give it to you just how he wants, just how he knows you’d like. you have no clue how good he wants to make you feel; he’d love to see you overwhelmed and trembling, shaking nonstop and begging with tears in your eyes for more and more. he bets you don’t even know how much you could take. he wants to push you to your limits and find out.

his body’s buzzing with the need to get you off, to have you creaming in those cute little pajama shorts. he laughs when you whimper out his name, clawing at his shirt like this is already too much. he wants to go a lot further than this, though.

“we’ll have to stop when taehyun asks me out,” you whisper, breaking beomgyu’s fantasy. he almost runs a hand down his face from the exhaustion and irritation, but he holds back. instead, he levels you with a stare, one that seems to make you shrink back a bit.

his eyes flit to your lips. “open up,” he commands, patting your cheek lightly. your wide, confused eyes dart across his face for a moment, then you oblige. your mouth parts slowly, pretty pink tongue just barely visible. “wider,” he says, and you do.

he needs to show you what happens when you don’t listen to him. he lets a glob of his saliva fall from his lips, watching it slowly drip towards yours. your legs clamp around his waist, and he could almost laugh at the whole ordeal. you’re getting even needier cause he spit in your mouth? or is it because he’s being a little more strict with you? do you like being put in place?

he watches his saliva land on your tongue, dark eyes finding yours. “now swallow,” he says, and he rubs his hand over your clothed cunt as he says it. he feels your body tremble a little. you keep eye contact with him as you close your mouth and do as he says. beomgyu nearly cums in his pants on the spot.

“don’t bring up taehyun again.” he grinds his palm against you a little harder to get his point across.

“i’m sorry,” you say, and you sound so docile that beomgyu feels a little bad.

“it’s okay, baby. you didn’t know better. i just have to get this pretty head to stop thinking, right?” he kisses your forehead, and he feels you nod. you’re so needy right now that beomgyu thinks this might be a wet dream—he’s been dying to see you like this again. “will you let me inside you? just my fingers?” he asks.

you gasp as his fingers circle your clit, and he’s starting to feel how wet you are even through the layers of clothes. he imagines sinking his finger into you, something no man has done to you before. he gets to have all your firsts, he’ll make sure of it. no one else deserves it. no one else could make you feel like he can.

“j-just go slow,” you say. beomgyu can’t take your clothes off fast enough, throwing your shorts and panties to the floor in seconds. he has to stop to admire your pussy, rubbing your slit and gathering your arousal on his fingers.

“you’re the prettiest,” he praises, bringing your hand to his lips so he can kiss the back of it. you smile shyly, then gasp as he glides his fingers across your clit. he continues just playing with the swollen bud for a minute, wanting to get you soaking before he stretches you out.

he circles his finger around your entrance, teasingly applying pressure just to watch you squirm. he feels the ultimate power rush right now—he’s going to change your life, going to make sure you come crying back to him every night asking for his touch.

“are you ready?” he asks.

“yes, please.” you’re so sweet. he’d kiss you if he wasn’t so focused on watching your cunt as he starts pushing his finger in.

his eyes almost roll back at how much you're clamping down on him. he pushes in until his finger’s halfway in and gives you a moment to adjust to the feeling. he gives a couple shallow thrusts, listening to your breath catch, before he pushes in the rest of the way.

“look at you, doing so good,” he coos, letting his free hand caress your thigh.

“i-i can take more,” you say, clenching around his finger.

“are you sure?” you nod vigorously, and who is he to deny you? he pulls out, circling your entrance with two fingers now. “tell me if it hurts,” he says.

he pauses when you cry out as he pushes in, looking at you in worry. “no, keep going,” you insist, rolling your hips eagerly. he continues, getting his fingers in you the rest of the way and stopping to let you adjust. you already look so fucked out, body twitching and hands grasping at the sheets.

“can i move?” he asks.

“yes, please!” your voice is so whiny and breathy, and it makes beomgyu feel fucking crazy. he has to control himself and not jackhammer his fingers into you, even though he’s love to see you take it. you bring a hand to his arm, holding onto him like he’s keeping you anchored. he’s reminded of the greatest feeling in the world: the feeling that you need him.

“i’ll give it to you, baby,” he promises, slowly fucking his fingers into you. you’re insanely tight, and beomgyu doesn’t know if you’d even be able to fit his dick with such a tiny cunt. his cock sits hot and heavy in his pants, but he barely pays it any attention. he’s much more focused on working you up to the greatest orgasm ever.

you sob out his name, and he thinks it’s so cute that you’re already such a mess. he almost wants to put a third finger into you and watch you struggle to take it, but he thinks that might be too cruel. your walls are getting adjusted to his fingers now, and the slide becomes easier, fucking into you a little faster.

“oh my god,” you moan, arching your back and digging your nails into him. he can’t wipe the grin off his face, more than satisfied at your reactions. “feels so good,” you pant.

“yeah?” beomgyu asks, breathless as he increases his pace a little more, curling his fingers up. it takes him a minute to find what he’s looking for, but he knows he’s got it when you cry and your leg kicks out helplessly. he keeps pressing into that spot, curling his fingers up to hit it every time, relishing in the garbled moans that spill out of your mouth.

“beomgyu, i’m gonna”—you’re cut off by your own gasp, whining and arching further into the feeling. you look like a mess, and beomgyu’s never felt more attracted to you than right now. he’s dying for you to lose control, to spill your juices into his hand and become a brainless thing for him to play with.

he feels you tightening around his fingers, so much he can barely move, stuck pressing into you relentlessly to get you to your peak. you’re such a dream when you’re mewling and panting like this.

“fuck, that’s it, just let go for me, give it all to me,” he says, bringing his palm to your clit to aid in your orgasm. you look breakable, and beomgyu would do anything just to tear you apart and rewire your brain to only think about his cock. you lying so prettily beneath him, looking all vulnerable and sweet, makes him feel like the biggest creep in the world. the things he imagines doing with you right now are driving him insane.

he wants to flip you over and pull your hips up in the air, put your cunt on full display for him to ravage and do whatever he wants with. he wants to ram his dick into you while you gasp and whine under him, not even knowing what to do with all your pleasure. he’d make you all his one way or another, fuck you nice every day, make sure you never get the chance to want for another man.

he pulls his fingers out of you when it looks like you’ve had enough, and his slick hand immediately goes to his dick, pulling it from his pants and jerking himself off over your body. he doesn’t care how much of a horny dog he looks like—he’d hump your leg like a bitch in heat if that’s all you’d let him do. he’s just aching to relieve himself, beyond worked up after seeing and feeling you fall apart for him.

“pull up your shirt, babe,” beomgyu breathes out as he fucks his fist. you obey so nicely, exposing your tits for him to spill all over. he can’t even be embarrassed that you just watched him jerk off for less than a minute before cumming. he fucking needed that.

he groans as he milks out the last of his orgasm, watching the white substance land onto your tits and stomach. he collects what landed on your stomach onto his fingers, then brings them up to your mouth. he doesn’t even have to tell you to open, you just do. you’re so well-trained for him already, it makes his heart skip a beat.

your tongue laps at his cum, keeping your eyes on him as you clean him off. he pops his fingers out and leans down to lick the rest of his cum off your tits. you bring a hand to his hair as his tongue licks a stripe up the valley of your breasts. beomgyu thinks he was made for this—to ruin your body, to fix it, to please it, to worship it. he feels like this is the right place in the world for him as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud.

you sigh out, tugging harder at his hair as he gives your other breast the same treatment. he releases your nipple with a pop, then flicks his tongue over it just to watch you jump a little. he soothes your tits with eager hands, fondling the flesh as he sits back between your legs, looking down at you with a proud smirk.

“i should shower,” you say, fixing your shirt back down. you sit up and stretch, and something about this moment feels so domestic.

“let me join you,” beomgyu suggests, pulling you in by the hips to sit you on his lap. you laugh a little as he does so, then try (and fail) to push away his face as he delivers a million kisses to your cheeks.

“stop,” you giggle, leaning away to escape him. he probably should stop; he’s going a lot further than just simple hook ups. he relents, choosing to just look at you instead. you’re so cute, just staring back at him and holding back a smile. you stay like that for a minute before you look away.

“go shower,” beomgyu says, patting your thigh. you get up and he follows behind you eagerly. you turn to him in the doorway of your bathroom, poking a finger against his chest.

“i didn’t say you could come with,” you say, but you don’t sound like you’re totally against it.

he pouts. “don’t make me wait out here all alone.” your eyes trail down his face, and beomgyu realizes that this smile of yours is quickly becoming one of his favorite things in the world.

you step aside. “fine, but keep your hands to yourself,” you say.

“i will,” he agrees with a wolfish grin. safe to say, beomgyu breaks that promise the second you’re both beneath the water.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 5

shy!reader really wants to tell construction worker!rafe how she feels but what if he doesn’t feel the same way?  

c/w: the L word, mostly fluff, her being an overthinker & getting a little jealous, pda, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k 

sooo this is the last part! (might write some extras but i make no promises) & just wanted to say how much i appreciate everyone who reads my stuff. the first part was my first piece of writing on this blog and i was overjoyed by the warm welcome and all the kind comments, asks & reblogs (nothing goes unnoticed by me!) so thank u so so much for being so lovely <33

series masterlist

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

It’s been exactly two weeks since she came to terms with the fact that she’s in love with him.

She hasn’t been able to sleep all that well and has tried her very best to avoid Rafe, albeit fruitlessly since he insists on driving her home every day and on top of that, often invites himself over or asks her to stay the night at his— not accepting her excuses about being tired and having to wake up early.   

“Why don’t we jus’…be tired ‘n wake up early together then?” his grin is playful. And how is she meant to refuse that?  

And if everything he does wasn’t already suffocating her enough, he’s now helping with the renovation of the cafe since her boss wanted to expand the business; turn the small coffee shop into a bigger one in hopes of more space for new tables and seats, because the amount of clients they got was beginning to be too much for everyone to comfortably enjoy their stay. 

Therefore, she now has to work in the same building as him every single day because (unfortunately) the renovation work isn’t disturbing the current cafe from running nor decreasing the number of customers with a sweet tooth or a craving for their usual morning coffee.   

And none of this would be a problem, if Rafe wasn’t walking around all sweaty and dusty, biceps bulging whenever he’d lift wooden planks over his shoulder or carry around different equipment— looking as attractive as ever.

And with these newfound lovey-dovey feelings trying to break through the surface, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to stop herself from ogling him or keep her rapid heartbeats to herself whenever he wanders over for a chat on his breaks. She tries to act as normal as she can, but she can tell that he’s starting to pick up on her excessive rambling and stuttering, flushed cheeks and anxious fingers fixing her hair every two seconds whenever he’s talking to her.  

In fact, she’s certain he can see right through her, knows that she’s hiding something. She can practically see how he wants to bring it up more often than not, but seemingly hasn’t found the right way to approach the subject yet, and she can sense that she’s running out of time— can’t tolerate lying to him for much longer.   

She’s been thinking this whole thing through over and over again, to the point of her head hurting while she bakes Rafe’s favorite lemon raspberry cookies as a distraction and because he’s been working so hard she wants to surprise him; see the soft smile that makes the whole world glitter whenever he graces her with it.  

And she wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply she feels for him; how much she appreciates him but every time she tries to open her mouth, the words seem to evaporate before they’ve even begun to sprout on her nervous tongue.

Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this is all just a casual thing for him and she’s making it into something more than it is? These bleak thoughts turn her mood sour— a pout forming on her lips as she concentrates on topping the flamingo pink icing with fresh blueberries, adding the final touches to their most popular vanilla cupcakes.

And as she’s taking Rafe’s cookies out the oven, she comes to the conclusion that she really only has two options; she either tells him or she doesn’t.

If she tells him, there’s a very high possibility that he looks at her with a crease between his brows and words about not wanting for this to be anything serious hitting her against the face. And if she doesn’t, then…well she doesn’t really have anything to lose, does she? Except maybe the what ifs haunting her for the rest of eternity.   

She tries to get rid of the tormenting thoughts with a shake of her head as she sets the cookies off to cool down, and begins to place the finished cupcakes onto the display counter, trying her hardest to just forget about it all.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

Later that day, when Rafe is contently munching on the cookies she plated for him and happily distracting her from work, someone approaches the counter; a girl with glossy lips and shiny hair.   

“Hi! Could I please get a mango matcha latte?” her eyes are as green as grass as she places her order.  

“Of course, would you like it with ice or no ice?”   

“With ice, please.”

“Coming right up,” she gives the girl a polite smile when her payment goes through.   

“You’re working on the renovation?” the girl’s attention then turns towards Rafe, making Y/N’s gaze flicker over to them as she puts blended mango into the bottom of a tall glass.  

“Yeah, the cafe’s gon’ be twice as big as it’s now,” he drawls, putting the half-eaten baked good down.   

“That’s so cool. You know, I’ve always wondered how construction workers are so strong. Do you go to the gym a lot?” a saccharine voice reaches Y/N’s ears, making her brows furrow while she measures the right amount of matcha powder, trying to appear nonchalant.   

“Uh, yeah, yeah, also think m’workdays sometimes count as workouts,” he scratches the back of his head as she lets out a giggle. It wasn’t that funny, Y/N thinks with a roll of her eyes.   

“Hey, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime? Could give you my number?”   

Something muddy swirls in her stomach in response to the girl’s straightforward question. She doesn’t particularly appreciate the fact that she’s blatantly hitting on Rafe right in front of her, even if she’s painfully aware that they’re not together and the girl probably assumed they were just friends, which they are.  

However, she can’t prevent herself from turning grumpy from the mere notion of him being interested in someone else. After all, the girl is stunning and she wouldn’t really blame him if he wanted to at least consider her offer.  

“Uh, m’actually not available right now,” he offers an apologetic smile when the girl’s shoulders slump.   

“No? That’s a shame. Well, let me know when that changes?” she gives him a flirty smile that makes Y/N quietly scoff as she pours the milk into the mix.  

“S’not changing anytime soon,” she mutters under her breath, making both of their heads turn towards her.   

Fuck, did she really say that out loud?  

“Sorry?” the girl asks, muted jade settling on her suddenly tense form.

“Oh, um— jus’ that…here’s your drink,” she peeps out in her state of embarrassment, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into the side of her face as she sticks a paper straw into the beverage; the ice cubes clinking together when she hands it out to her.

“Right, thanks,” she says before looking over to Rafe once more, seemingly expecting him to give her an answer of his own.  

“Uh…yeah, what she said. Not changin’ anytime soon,” his grin is wide, making the girl’s cheeks flush.  

And when it’s just the two of them again, she flits her eyes down— busying herself with a wooden container of tea bags she’s trying to organize, unable to face him.  

“What was, uh…what was that about?” his tone is taunting, an annoying smirk playing on his features.  

“Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, avoiding his gaze.  

“Nothin’? You’re tellin’ me you weren’t just real fuckin’ jealous two seconds ago?”  

“N—no,” she can’t even convince herself with the pitiful denial.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, m’all yours, alright?” he chuckles as he stuffs the rest of the cookie into his mouth.  

“How did you know I jus’ was cravin’ these?” he asks around the mouthful as she tries to brush aside the sudden tingle in her ribcage.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

A few days later, when her shift is coming to an end, her other coworker already beginning to take orders and telling her she’s free to go, she drags Rafe behind the counter and practically forces him to taste test a new recipe she’s tried out; a walnut carrot cake with lime buttercream. 

“Wow, this is…amazing. The sourness in the frosting is so good,” his voice is muffled by his chewing and her heart warms in response to his commentary, never one to shy away from showering her in compliments.  

“You think so? I actually added the lime jus’ cause I know how much you like citrus fruits so, m’really glad you like it,” she beams at him.  

“Yeah? Made this jus’ for me, huh? Can I ask why m’gettin’ this special treatment all of a sudden?” his tone is playful, tongue licking over his bottom lip to clean up the bit of icing lingering there.   

“Well, cause I love you and—” she blurts out before her entire body tenses; mouth hanging open in shock and wide eyes slowly moving to look at him, trying to verify whether he heard it or not. Of course he did. She wasn’t exactly quiet now, was she?   

“You…you love me?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“Uh…I— I didn’t mean to…I mean, you probably don’t feel the same so doesn’t really matter. Just— um...jus’ forget I said that. I don’t know why I—”   

“What are you talkin’ about? You think I spend most of my time with you cause I…what? Dislike you? You can be so silly sometimes, you know?” he scoffs, setting the golden fork down on the porcelain plate.  

She stays silent. 

“What I’m sayin’ is that m’obsessed with you. I mean, you’re even in my fuckin’ dreams, right? But listen, love has always been a little, uh, tricky for me cause m’relationship with my family has always been, uh, complicated? But if me wantin’ to spend every second of my day with you means I love you too, then, shit, maybe I do. But I need some time before I can really say that shit, you get that?” his words are honest and raw and she thinks her rattling heart is going to beat out of her chest.  

“I— um…yeah, of course. Take all the time you need,” she finally manages out.  

“Hey, c’mere,” he says before he’s practically dragging her dumbfounded form into his embrace; — beefy arms pulling her flush against his chest.  

“I mean, we’re basically already datin’ at this point, no? Wasn’t sure how to make it official without freakin’ you out but since you love me, think you’re all good, yeah?” 

She mumbles something incoherent in response.  

“So wanna be my little girlfriend or what?” he murmurs into her hair.  

“I— of course I do,” she speaks against his shirt.   

“Yeah?”   

“Mhm,” she hums before he tucks an index finger under her chin and lifts her face to look up at him—his thumb toying with her bottom lip before he’s leaning down and smearing a sloppy kiss against her mouth.   

“Shit, you’re so adorable, jus’ wanna swallow you whole sometimes,” he murmurs with a soft smile tugging at his lips and eyes twinkling with something syrupy in them.   

“I love you,” she mumbles, almost inaudible; words still too tender to consciously say out loud.   

“Say it again,” he practically demands.  

“Um…I love you,” her voice is nearly a whisper.  

“What was that? Think you can say it a little louder?” he teases.   

“Rafe, stop…you’re embarrassing me,” she whines, cheeks heating up.

“No, m’not. Jus’ wanna hear you say it,” his smirk is all big and smug and it makes her huff.  

“ILOVEYOU, okay?” the words mesh together like fluffy clouds in the sky and her volume is louder than he’s probably ever heard it, causing a couple of curious heads to turn and the lively chatter around them to quiet down some.   

“Yeah? You guys heard that? She LOVES me,” he’s nearly shouting, looking around with a stupid grin on his face— making her flush and hide behind her hands as a few customers cheerfully titter in entertainment.  

“Congrats, dude!” someone even yells.

“Oh my god, Rafe. Why would you do that?” her mortified eyes widen as she crouches down; trying to find shelter behind the pale-yellow counter. “M’never leaving my house again,” she complains with a glare.   

However, he doesn’t seem all that bothered by the whole thing, simply chuckling with dimples denting his cheeks— the light-hearted sound making her stomach flutter despite the humiliation crawling up her spine and making her want to vanish into the cracks on the floorboards.   

“Of course you are, m’your boyfriend now which means m’takin’ you out on a date tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts her up with a grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him while his fingertips slip underneath the hem of her shirt, smoothing over her bare stomach and making her let out a squeak.  

Then, he’s grasping her jaw in one hand and pressing his mouth on hers again— her protests withering away like a dead rose when he slips his tongue past the seam of her lips, dragging out an involuntary whimper from her, before she pulls away and hides her face in his chest when she feels multiple pairs of eyes staring at them.  

“Rafe, can we just go already?” she pleads, voice small before he’s guiding her out of the coffee shop; his hand resting on the small of her back and calming her down some. 

And despite the little scene he caused, she thinks she might just be the happiest girl on the island as he helps her climb into his truck with a honeyed kiss warming the apple of her cheek.

[maiiuelle]

what if rafe and reader are more than friends but they didn’t really put a label on it and even top and kelce noticed but rafe still has the occasional hookup and one night when reader was js thinking abt stuff and then she realizes that shes inlove with rafe but when she came over to tannyhill to confess and rafe answered with his hair all messed up and him shirtless and he basically smelled like sex and when rafe asks why shes there she randomly just runs away and cries in her car while driving home so basically just angst (does that make sense idk)

you feel like your going crazy, standing at tannyhill’s front stoop twiddling your thumbs.

your relationship with rafe cameron is complicated; you’d almost call it a situationship, but you couldn’t put a label on it. you’d been going to all of his parties to serve as arm candy, posed with him at the golf course, and hooked up with him more than once. it’s beyond casual, but he has yet to pop the girlfriend question. even with his little commitment, you’d been finding it hard to keep your mind off of him — or rather, what the two of you had done together. you have to mean more to him than he’s letting on.

so, you knock on tannyhill’s giant glass front door again, biting your lip nervously as you look over the texts you’d already sent him to let him know you were coming.

“hey! just thinking ab u.. are u free tn? <3” you asked right after work, hopping in the shower in hopes you could head straight to his place after.

“busy. work shit. u free on friday?”

“oh idk. sucks we cant do tn, i miss u.” you followed your message with a picture of you sitting on your pink bedsheets, posing in the mirror to show off your silky pajamas. you thought he just needed a little convincing, but he didn’t respond.

“can u call me before bed? sorry, i know u said ur busy.”

by then it had been an hour or two, still no response from rafe. you were pacing around your room. all you wanted was to spend time with him, even if that meant lounging around while he works. anything would do, you just couldn’t stay away.

you came to the conclusion had to show him how much you care somehow, and what better way than to go to tannyhill and confess your love for him — it would be like a romance movie, he’d probably be exhausted from work and happy to see you by then!

“i’m sorry if this is sudden, i just feel like i really need to see you. i’ll just drop by for a second xoxo see u soon”

suddenly, the front door swings open, revealing a very disheveled rafe cameron. his bangs are a mess, sweaty and strewn across his forehead. his whole face is red, his lips swollen, and all he’s wearing are blue flannel pajama pants. you’d seen him like this before, pussy drunk and stumbling around a dark room. your heart deflates as he pushes open the front door, familiar blue eyes squinting at you through the night. “the fuck are you doing? you’re gonna wake up my fuckin’ dad.”

“work shit, huh? really, rafe?” you snap, looking him over completely disgusted. “what’re you d—”

“nah, nah. i told you i was busy — did i not?” he cuts you off, holding a finger in your face and grabbing your upper arm with the other hand, making you jump. “could’a kept yourself from all this if you just listened to me, right? right?” he jostles you, like he could shake a response out of you, but you’re frozen. he lets you go at the sight of your face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “fuckin’ figures.”

“are you.. high?” you pull your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, tears already beginning to brim your waterline at the utter betrayal.

rafe recoils, acting overly offended to take the heat off his obvious cheating. “you’re gonna talk to me like that at my own goddamn house? do me a favor — go home, and i’ll think about callin’ you.”

“don’t bother. asshole.” you cry, turning away. the last glimmer of hope you have is snuffed out when you hear the glass door slam behind him, leaving you alone once again.

defeated, you retreat back to your car, wiping your tear stained cheeks pitifully. you should have known, rafe cameron is a player.

➺ do you…

⟡ hear out rafe’s apology

OR

⟡ tell jj what rafe did

[sy-on-boy]

Damianya turning point

I'm sure this is fairly obvious but I adore Damianya so I'm still going to write this. Damianya has subtly shifted over the years so has my fanon interpretations of them. I think they've became less one-sided and the bus hijacking was when Anya started to see Damian differently (ie. in a better light).

Anya has always reacted in accordance to whether Damian is being mean or nice. (Eg. She only went for Plan B after Damian saved her from the dodgeball despite initially disliking him to the point of not bothering with Plan B.) So when Damian takes the initiative to apologise, Anya instantly beams and sincerely tells Damian he was "super cool". She even calls him a hero (heroes like her dad and Bondman). I think this is genuine on Anya's part because when Damian did his big self sacrificing moment, he had no idea the bomb was fake. He saw all of that danger with none of Anya's knowledge and decided to go for it.

Anya likes being the protector more than the protected (ch 105.5). She is very proactive in trying to save her parents and her classmates. While her parents and the adults are obliged to look after her, Damian is... not. Arguably, his higher social status would make him more "worthy to be protected" than a commoner kid. But while Anya puts on a brave front, she gets scared and anxious like any other kid, seen as when the adrenaline rush fades and she cries into Yor's arms.

Damian, as a fellow child, is not obliged to stand up for Anya. He said he would make the perfect hostage, and while what he said makes sense, Anya can read his mind. The catalyst for Damian to make a move was seeing Anya "look scared" (misinterpretation of Anya being overwhelmed by other's thoughts). And I think hearing Damian's panicked thoughts afterwards made Anya appreciate him more, because he wasn't fearless. He stood up for her while being acutely aware of the risks and being terrified himself. He was a "hero" who 1) wasn't obliged to protect her 2) lacked the information Anya had 3) was just a kid like her. Anya now sees the similarities between herself and Damian (will protect people they care about) while feeling touched by his determination. She's always protecting people so it feels nice to be protected. (And not just in silly situations like dodgeball matches.)

Note that Anya only called Damian a hero after his apology, but not before he called them friends. Anya might be reminded of Strix afterwards, but before that, it was all genuine. Damian acknowledged his mistakes and said something nice, so Anya was also willing to say something nice (and be honest).

There is also the aspect about Damian's family. I think Anya has always understood, even if just subconsciously, that she and Damian are similar because they want to impress their fathers. Now that Anya has met Melinda (and Demetrius), she comes to the conclusion that Damian's family is weird. Someone who wants the same things as her (a loving, caring family) is less fortunate than her. I think this is why Anya directly reassured Damian that his mom loves him + why we got that close up of Damian saying "your family seems nice". Now that she sees more similarities between herself and Damian (and feels better about him), she wants to be kind to him.

Then it seems like Damian and Anya are returning to their bickering status quo. Interestingly, Damian apologies in both the post hijacking chapter and the crunchy cakes chapter. Granted, for the latter he was apologising to Henderson, but I think Anya could tell Damian really wanted to give her the cakes. She happily agrees that they're even and that they can be good friends.

And then, of course, the famous school party chapters.

It is SO important to me that Loid literally thought Anya could dance with whoever she likes. He had a logical train of thought Anya could follow. "So long there isn't any major rift" -> Damian and Anya's friendship improved after the hijacking, and while they still bicker, it's not anything major. Loid points out the Desmonds wouldn't consider Anya and Damian deserves to make his own choice. After Loid "set Anya free", Anya looks at Damian (reading his mind? Judging the situation?) and decides she wants to dance with him. This is a decision she made of her own accord. Throughout the story, Anya obediently followed Loid's requests for Plan B, but when she is permitted (and requested) to "not go for Plan B" and can choose whoever she wants, she still goes for Damian.

Then Anya fought tooth and nail to be Damian's dance partner. It didn't matter that she looked undignified or tore her dress. She just really, really wanted to win. And she shocked even Loid. She won this part without any interference from Loid or reading minds. Anya's just that determined.

And then we have the second most insane panel of this chapter.

No sparkles! No mind reading sparkles! She knows! Because of course she does! While the other girls see it as an opportunity to swoon over Damian, Anya gets straight to the point. She didn't do it with fanfare, didn't do it with a smug "heh". She just said what she knows. Because she knows Damian.

Tying in with what she knows about Damian's family, Damian's words seem like a confession. He's already admitted to her that he's not close with his parents (bus hijacking chapter), and he's now openly envious of a commoner's family. Then he tries to walk it back but Anya knows the truth.

So she also tells him a truth. A truth that she keeps hidden from her own family, but will tell the boy she calls a hero.

Anya openly values Damian as more than an asset to Plan B and no longer grudgingly puts up with him. Sure, he's still a jerk sometimes, but Anya's also seen his nicer/ more vulnerable sides. If Damian is nice to her, she will be nice to him. If he tells her a secret, she'll also tell him a secret. They are similar kids with similar motivations. And Damian is important/special enough that Anya told him her most well guarded secret (which can be dangerous!! Given he's the son of the "evil superboss"!!).

I don't Anya likes Damian in the way he likes her (ie. not puppy love), but she definitely cares about him and almost has a soft spot for him? Like when she truly wanted to dance with him. And she told him that his mom loves him AFTER Damian said something mean (while reading his true thoughts).

While Damian frustrates Anya and she says she doesn't like him (for good reasons lmao he's still annoying), she is willing to be kind and vulnerable. She sees through Damian's snark and arrogance. Almost like she wants to encourage the softer side of Damian to come out instead of his prickly defensive side.

This is subtly different from the fanon in the initial Damianya boom of spring/summer 2022, in which it was jealous/pining/tsundere Damian x smug/annoyed/oblivious Anya. They aren't just bickering push-and-pull frenemies with romcom potential, they're kids with a real connection and they're willing to be soft in front of each other while toughening up around everyone else (eg. Damian instantly calming down in the cake chapter when the other kids left). Anya has always been special to Damian, but now Damian is also special to Anya even without Strix. And he will likely continue to be special. <3

[valentina-writes]

The Distance He Keeps - Part 2

Azriel x Reader

summary: Finally, you confront Azriel about why he is avoiding you. Later, you find yourself inside his mind, revealing a deep secret about your relationship (I'm really bad at summaries, it's been so long ugh)

warnings: drinking, slight hurt/no comfort, suicidal thoughts if you squint, swearing

word count: 3.4k | part 1 | part 3 | masterlist

A/N: I'm honestly so incredibly happy that so many of you liked the first part! Now, I love men who have the ability to just shut tf up, but Az brings this to a whole other level. So... uhm prepare for some frustration. I promise, he's not an asshole, just incredibly tortured. Anyways, I hope you like it and come back soon for part 3! xx

There was something drawing me towards the roof. A silent calling, a sixth sense attuned to him. Like the air was vibrating softly, showing me his direction. It had been a week since the dinner, since I had last seen him. But still, I was sure that this was new. Maybe I was going insane. It wouldn't surprise me.

I stepped outside onto the small roof terrace. It was near midnight, the sky above Night Court seemingly endless. Millions of stars twinkled down on me; I would never quite get used to the beauty of the nights here. A cool summer breeze hit me and the humming of Velaris reached my ears, the sounds of countless people moving through the streets. But I hardly noticed any of that.

Because there, sitting on one of the two chairs that barely fit on the tiny terrace, was Azriel. His shoulders were tense, his wings half unfolded as if he was about to lurch out of his seat and into the night. His shadows stayed close to him, as if they were trying to guard him. Aloofness was not rare to him, but vigilance like this, I had never seen on him at home.

How do I start? I asked myself. What do I even say? ‘Hey, you’ve been ignoring me and I miss you and I’m in love with you, please come back and stop this bullshit’? How pathetic. I had no plan. The past nights, I had tossed and turned in my bed, imagining our encounter. The only conclusion I had come to was that whatever I’d say, it couldn’t possibly get any worse. Hopefully.

"Don't mind me, I'm leaving in a second", he spoke out, still not turning around. His posture stayed rigid. There was no other indication of him noticing your presence.

Without thinking, I countered: "Oh, so now you're speaking again?". Azriel’s neck tensed. That came out a little meaner than anticipated.

He sighed. "Maybe".

I took the few steps to the other chair and slid into it. Hesitantly, I turned my head towards him. He still wouldn't meet my eyes. Azriel looked tired, his eyes half closed with bags underneath them. His long fingers were clenched around the armrests of his chair. It was evident that he was severely unwell. How long had this been going on for? Maybe I should have pressed harder when he started ignoring me, I realized, and not folded in on myself.

For a while, we sat in silence while I studied him. Then I couldn't bear it anymore. I swallowed the anxiety that had welled up inside me for weeks, tried to calm my flaying nerves. "What is going on, Az, are you okay? Please, we can talk about whatever happened. I miss you”, I pleaded, the last words only a whisper. I quickly shut my mouth before more words could escape my lips. Come back, I thought, come back to me.

The muscles in his jaw tensed and he dropped his head into his hands. "Don't say that. Don't make it harder than it already is".

Desperation grew inside of me. Even if he did not love me back, I would not bury our friendship without at least putting up a fight. “We can work it out. Whatever it is, we can face it together”.

His face twisted in a pained expression. “Cauldron boil me, I wish it were that easy”

"Is this about starfall?", I asked. Finally, our gazes met. Azriel looked defeated. "So it is?". He didn't deny it, so I assumed I was correct. "You're embarrassed at what happend, or what? Do you want to take back what you did and said? Is it because you're scared?". The shadows drew in closer around him, pooling around his chest and neck, as if to guard him.

His voice was agonized when he replied: "You don't understand. You just don't understand and I can't even be mad at you. But I can't be around you like this". Azriel had always been a man of few words, but frustration hit you hard. Why couldn't he give you at least some insight? "Then fucking explain it to me, Az! I can't take this anymore."

There was no hesitation in his voice this time. "Maybe I shouldn't have kissed you."

This felt like a blow to my stomach. All air was knocked right out of me. This day was the happiest I had been in years. I thought about it before falling asleep, in the bathtub and over breakfast. Again and again, I replayed this moment to make sure I hadn't made it up, to hold onto it. And now he was destroying it, crushing it, with a single sentence. Tears welled up in my eyes and I fought to not let them roll.

I hated myself for the crack of my voice, when I asked: "Was it that horrible? Did I disgust you much that you can't even look at me anymore?". Even if he didn't love me -

"Don't you ever think about yourself like that", he practically growled, "you, out of all people, have no business believing that". He was angry now, as if he couldn't even understand how I could think that. His words confused me. One second he said he shouldn't have kissed me and now this?

"Then what is it, Az? What happened to 'I will always find you'? Talk to me please. Make me understand", I begged. My hand reached out to thread through his fingers, but he escaped my grasp, stood up and leaned against the terrace fence.

There was a long pause. I almost thought he wouldn't answer. Then, quietly, almost desparately: "Can't you feel it?"

What did he mean? Why did he always have to be so cryptic? "I feel that you're drifting away from me and I can't get ahold of you. LIke I'm reaching out and begging and with every try, you float further away".

His hands gripped the banister so tightly his knuckles turned white and a sad smile crossed his face. "That's how I feel about you as well."

"What did I do wrong? Please. I'm right here, you're not losing me". I would plead on my knees before letting go. There was nothing I wouldn't do to get him back. Even if he regretted the kiss, I would not lose my best friend. My better half.

When he glanced back at me, the look in his eyes broke me. The spark in them was gone, the glint I had come to love dimmed. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault". The sadness seeped out of him, his shadows now concealing almost every part of him, except for his face. I had never seen him like this. "Please, give me some space. I - I'll tell you. Just this once, please". Without waiting for my answer, he jumped over the low fencing around the rooftop terrace and flew into the night. And left me alone with my thoughts. Only then did my tears start to run.

How did it go?

Fuck off, Rhysand

I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry, my heart hammering.

"Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

The words that left my mouth weren't my own. Neither was my voice. What was going on? I still felt half asleep.

"I thought Y/N would figure it out herself. It was so painfully obvious in her memories, but she just didn't connect the dots. Pretty ironic considering her job". I couldn't focus on my surroundings, still only half conscious. All I could register were the big violet eyes staring at me.

Anger flared up at the other person's words, but it wasn't mine. I could feel it, but it was somehow...foreign. Rhys was talking to me, I realized. But it wasn't me, really. The body I was in was taller, the angle I saw everything from was wrong. And the hands that were brought up to sweep the stray hairs out of my eyes were tan, scarred and surrounded by shadows. I was inside Azriel's mind. Suddenly, I was wide awake. Why was I here? How did I even get into this situation?

"What was she thinking about?", Azriel asked. Rhysand gave me - no - Azriel a long look. Azriel was back at the townhouse and they were speaking about my previous talk with Rhys, it seemed. Curiosity took over the confusion within me. I longed to know what Azriel would say about me. Would he tell Rhys the reason for his behavior?

"I think you know. I'm not telling you. She screamed bloody murder at me that I had violated her thoughts like that". Disappointment lapped at me from within him. But there was something else entirely, too. Affection. Concern.

There was a long pause. Azriel started pacing the room. "You could make her some food", Rhys offered, "That should clear it up. Apart from the rather obvious method". Az' wings rustled behind him. He was uncomfortable. Blurry images of our entwined bodies came into his mind. They came and went fast, he quickly shoved each one away behind thick barriers. What did that mean?

"I'm not going to force her like that. She should decide for herself. And the "obvious method" as you called it, is not really an option to me right now". An image of me, naked in his bed blazed through his mental shields. By the Mother, what were they talking about? He breathed in deeply and vanished this product of his imagination. I grew restless. Why was he thinking about me like this, when only a few hours ago he had made very clear that he didn't even want to think about the kiss? Did he lie to me?

Azriel started pacing. His mind was racing. Shards of conversations with me came flying from his thoughts into my own. Dozens of made-up scenarios of him iniciating conversations that ended with me rejecting him. Which was weird, because why would I-

Rhy interrupted my - our thoughts: "Can you feel her? As her mate you should be able to have some insight into her mind".

All thoughts left my mind. Mate mate mate mate mate mate mate echoed through me. Azriel was my mate. My whole worldview shifted as I thought about our last conversation. Why didn't he just tell me? Somewhere far away from here I felt the blood rushing through my veins, my heart hammering against my ribcage. Mate.

"Not really, so far. Every now and then I can feel something, but hearing her thoughts or even seeing them... that only happened once". I longed to see what he had seen, but he had regained his composure. There was nothing slipping past his wards. A million questions raced through my head. Why couldn't I feel the bond? And since when did he know about this?

"Can I have a look? Maybe I can feel around and find out what the problem is", Rhys offered.

I felt him before I could withdraw from Azriel's mind. I didn't even know how to withdraw. Where was the path back to myself? Where did Azriel end and I begin? How had I even ended up here? I didn't know.

Soft claws stroked my consciousness - no, Azriel's. It felt nearly the same. Rhys dived into Azriel's brain, pulling me down into his thoughts with him, and sifted through memories, feelings, everything Az would let him see. Big parts of his brain were walled in, impenetrable.

Something here is different. He carefully dove through Az' brain and before I knew it, his invisible claws were stroking at my own walls. Interesting. Until he found what he was looking for. A tiny, softly glowing, thread, bound tightly to my thoughts, winding straight into the heart of Azriel's sectioned-off memories.

Go back, and for Cauldron's sake, talk to him, Rhys purred at me.

Azriel POV

I would never get used to the feeling of my brother combing through my brain, even after over 600 years. He was gentle and respected the heavy wards I had built over time, protecting my most vulnerable memories. The size of the walled-in part had grown considerably over the past years. But he was kind enough not to comment on that. Rhys moved along the outskirts of my brain until I could barely feel him anymore. But he was still there, somewhere. Somewhere... foreign. At the edges of my consciousness, a claw hit heavy walls. Walls that weren't my own. And then: a claw lightly stroking a thread that was welded to the essence of my being. A mating bond. Thin and fickle, not yet accepted. But it was there. And that meant that on the other side, behind thick walls... was her.

"Did you feel that?", Rhys asked after he withdrew from my mind. My shadows swirled around me, as if they had sensed something as well. They seemed elated, tugging at my hands and wings to get me moving.

"Yes", I breathed out, "thank you ". The smallest spark of hope ignited within me. I quickly shut it down. If it hadn't snapped for her yet, who was to say it ever would?

"The bond is most definitely not one-sided", Rhys explained, "I could feel her on the other side, but it has not fully snapped. Maybe because you've known each other for so long. What happened after you kissed at starfall? Maybe it takes a little more... closure.", he winked, sporting a wicked grin.

A low growl escaped my lips. He had no business thinking about my mate like this. She was my mate. Mine. The half-finished bond inside me flared up at his words, roaring with anger over his insinuation. If he ever so much as thought of her like this again, I would-

"Easy, man. Remind me to grant you a long vacation after you mate fully. You’re in desperate need of a good fuck". I breathed in deeply, trying not to tackle him to the ground.

It took all of my willpower to stay calm. "Can I stay here tonight?". There was no way I could sleep next door to her tonight.

"Always".

I left him there, went to the room I sometimes shared with Cassian and dropped onto my bed. As I stared at the dark ceiling, my thoughts circled back to another night.

I was drunk off her. She was beautiful everyday, I could barely take my eyes off her when she wore pajamas at breakfast. But today was a wholly different calibre. The dress she was wearing perfectly accentuated her eyes, and the glitter in her hair made her sparkle like she was a star herself.

"I will find you, no matter where. I promise". The words left my lips before I could think them through. She was too close to me. I had one glass of wine too much. Or maybe I was just sick of pretending.

"And I will find you", she replied. Her lips were slightly opened, the look in her eyes so vulnerable. A mirror of my own feelings. My shadows tugged at my suit's lapels, their whispers in my ears were delighted. This was it, the moment I had been waiting on forever.

Without my doing, my wings unfolded around her, shielding us off from the world around us. A breath later we were outside on a vacant balcony.

My ringed fingers shook slightly as I brought them up to her cheeks, cradling her face. Starlight reflected in her beautiful eyes and I wished I could drown in them. Her hands drew me in closer, her eyes closed. "Az - I...", she whispered.

Before I knew it, my lips touched hers. They were velvet on mine. Her hands threaded into the hair at the nape of my neck and she arched upwards. The only thought on my mind was her name, repeating like a prayer, while my lips moved softly on hers. Slowly, savoring every second, I parted her lips with my tongue. The moment our tongues touched, it was like a spark had been ignited inside me. A white hot feeling rushed through my veins and reflexively I moaned into her and pulled her closer. It was like a supernova inside me. Like something that had been missing from me my entire life was crafted with enormous force. And then I felt her. Her desire and wanting crashed down on me, amplified my own. My mate.

My knees threatened to buckle and the shadows swirled around her in ecstasy, threading through her hair, touching her arms and face.

And then the kiss ended and reality came crushing down on me with a force that knocked the wind out of my lungs.

She looked happy. Nothing more. There was no sign that she felt what I felt. No recognition that the Cauldron hat just welded our souls together, fused our entire beings into one. All my hopes shattered. My insides turned to ice and for a split second I wished I were dead.

Internally, I tried to reach out to her and tug at the string binding us together. But it was too thin, too unstable. There was no way for me to get ahold of it. Everytime I reached for it, it slipped from my grasp. I drew her into a hug to keep from breaking apart. But it was of no use. My hands started shaking against her back and my breath caught in my throat. I needed to go.

I pressed a kiss onto her forehead, before I withdrew from her embrace. Mumbling an excuse I barely registered, I forced myself to turn around and leave. With every step I took, I could feel my soul shattering into more and more pieces. In my room, I ripped my suit jacket off and threw it in a corner, didn't even bother to unbutton my shirt and instead tore it in two and threw it right after the jacket. I could still taste and feel her on my lips. In hopes of ridding myself of it, I tried to wipe her off of them. My hands came back red with lipstick.

The bond, still fresh, pulsed inside me and I felt her everywhere. Hell, I saw her in her mirror, through her own eyes, pulling off her dress and getting ready for bed, only a door away. I felt how tired she was, how happy she was. How fucking unaware she was that she was now the center of my world.

My shadows escaped from me, slithered underneath the door. They were agitated, longing for her as much as I was. Now, I felt how they pooled against her door, begging to be let in. I had just enough power over them to stop them from rushing into her room.

There was only one thing that would help now. I dug through my dresser. Mindlessly, I threw everything in my way into a pile on the floor. Until I found what I was looking for. A sinfully expensive bottle of very strong alcohol Cass had gifted me for solstice. Without thinking, I uncorked the flask with my teeth and drank until I gasped for air. And then I drank again. Anything to dull the ache inside me. The ache for her. Until I wouldn’t care anymore.

What a fucking mess. She was one of the few truly good things in my life and now that had been stolen from me too. Sometimes I felt like my life was one big single joke. No matter what, I never got what I wanted. I longed and pleaded and burned, but not once had life been playing fair with me. Maybe that was my curse. To give and give and never get anything in return.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear the voice of my father, long gone. Did you really think you deserved her? You are nothing, boy. And I knew he was right. How blind I was to believe that I was good enough for her. How fucking naïve.

There was nothing I could do. The bond ached inside me, mocking me for my delusions. I laid down and hoped the world would go away.

series taglist: @tele86 @francesababyd0ll @rcarbo1 @willowpains @i-am--infinite @paintedbyshadows @mellowmusings @ashduv