#it’s sad and I don’t want to feel that way
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⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ
yandere!heeseung・ reader g ・ smut cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ 0.8k | click to library
request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!
he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.
he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.
he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”
heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.
you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.
“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.
you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!
you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”
you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”
he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”
you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”
he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”
that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.
because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.
you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…
©️LUVYENI
#enhypen ff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung fic#heeseung fic#lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung hard thoughts#lee heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts
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There was something decidedly… insistent about Lena’s footsteps. Kara knew it was her, of course, when she picked up Lena heading towards her apartment. Not just her heart rate but her breathing and mumbling to herself and the way she walked, her footfalls painting a picture of how she was walking, and she was mad.
Kara expected a complaint when she opened the door. Lena would sometimes launch without preamble into a rant about this investor or that senator or some such executive at this or that company and just rant adorably, balling her little fists. Kara would never tell her, because she’d feel patronized, but Lena genuinely was cute when she was angry.
Well, annoyed. When she was really angry, throwing a fit angry, fed up with the world angry, she was something else entirely. Kara would move heaven and earth, quite literally, to address whatever bothered her. When she was sad it was even worse and Kara just wanted to bundle her up in her invulnerable arms and shelter her from everything forever.
Lena walked into the apartment, not looking at Kara, and clearly fuming. She dropped the order she’d picked up on the way into the kitchen island and stared at it, then finally glared at Kara. There was no mistaking the subject of her anger.
Kara fidgeted nervously. She shifted on her feet, feeling a pressure of Lena’s gaze that forced her own away.
“Lena? Is something wrong?” She swallowed, hard. “Bad day?”
“Something is wrong,” Lena said, very softly, in the icy tone she reserved for the fools she did not suffer gladly. “Take off your glasses.”
“What?”
“Take off your glasses, Kara.”
“But I can’t see…”
Lena stepped forward and put her hand on the takeout order in its plastic bag. Kara had ordered it and Lena had agreed to pick it up, far from be first time they’d done that. Lena often ordered for them and Kara brought it when Lena was hosting.
Right now Lena was trembling, head tilted forward like she meant to charge, eyes locked on Kara.
“Glasses. Off.”
Kara hesitated briefly.
“Okay,” she muttered, screaming at herself not to do this, pleading for some kind of distraction.
All she wanted to do tonight was curl up with Lena on the couch and watch a movie and focus very very hard on not giving away how badly she wanted to make out with her.
Kara slowly took the earpieces in her hands and slipped them off, setting the too-heavy frames on the table with a soft clunk. The word rushed in, sounds more vibrant and distracting, colors almost unpleasantly sharp.
Lena was staring at her. Her nostrils flared and her fists clenched. She took her hand from the food bag and took another step forward, then another, finally picking up the glasses in her own hand, feeling them. She raised them as if to put them on and stared through them.
“For someone who says she’s blind without them, these glasses don’t have a very strong prescription, do they.”
Possibilities raced through Kara’s mind. Things she could say, things she might do. She’d squeaked out of this before, somehow evaded Lena’s staggering intellect. She had seen curiosity darken her brows, maybe even brief moments of suspicion.
This was different. Heavier. More serious.
“What gave me away?”
“Everything, really. All the pieces were there this whole time, but I just refused to put them together on my own. It took a flat out slap in the face to make me choose to see it.”
Kara’s chest felt like it was caving in. Everything was going wrong. Her chin quivered and the tears began welling hot behind her eyes.
Lena looked at her flatly. “The guy at the take out place asked me why I was picking up Supergirl’s order. I asked him what the hell he was talking about and he told me Supergirl comes on all the time. Then he showed me a selfie.”
Kara licked her lips.
“It has to be a mistake.”
“They have your number on their speed dial as Supergirl, Kara. You let their delivery kid take a selfie in your suit. They wouldn’t let me pay for it. The old lady that owns the place said ‘Supergirls girlfriend, no charge!’ and started laughing.”
Kara stared at her.
“Lena…”
“You better have a good fucking explanation for why your favorite restaurant knows who you really are and not your supposed best friend.”
The tension in their air was palpable, electric. Kara could feel it like the gathering energy in the air before a storm, ready to burst forth with energy and life or mindless destruction. She folded her arms around herself and looked down.
“You do know me,” Kara finally said. “You do know who I really am. You’re the only person who does.”
Lena’s extension was fixed, intense, edging between a scowl and a pout, and Kara realized with a start that she was holding back tears of her own.
“You’re the only person that knows me as me. You know me without Supergirl, but without all the fake stuff I do so people won’t realize I’m Supergirl. I don’t have to pretend to be clumsy with you. You’re not always looking at me like I’m super strong or super fast. I can just be me when I’m with you.”
“You’ve lied to me so many times,” Lena said, after drawing in a deep breath. “Running away from our lunches, telling me wild stories about where you disappear to at work, and I just bought every bit of it. You must think I’m an easy mark.”
“No, never.”
“I’ve always had it in the back of my head. I always thought there was something there, something between us that kept you from really, truly being yourself with me. The way your touches are always so whisper-light and you’re always stealing glances at me. Like you were afraid with every word or movement that you’d give something away.”
“Lena,” Kara began.
“I knew you were hiding something. I had hoped it was something else.”
Kara licked her lips. She quickened her perception, a little trick of will that took her out of sync with the humans around her, processing the world at her natural speed, which made her peers seem almost frozen in place by comparison.
She took this drawn out instant to really look at Lena, truly take her in, savor what she was seeing because it might be the end. She was suddenly heavily, painfully aware that this might be the last time she ever looked on Lena in person.
Great father Rao, she was so beautiful. Not hot or pretty or even gorgeous or sexy, beautiful. She was dressed for the autumn chill in a pea coat and turtleneck and black leggings and her hair was down, letting itself soften into her natural waves. She was without makeup, and Kara suddenly realized that she only ever saw Lena without makeup when she meant to be alone with Kara. When she was her most pure, most true self.
Kara slowed herself again and as she did the world sped up, and she drank in the soft sadness in Lena’s blue-green eyes and all of those things she’d pushed deep down came bubbling to the surface: imagined sighs and the feeling of that lustrous inky hair slipping through her fingers, her name whispered on pillowy lips.
Human thoughts. Alien thoughts. Desires no Kryptonian should even apprehend, much less indulge. The very idea of the non-procreative act was shameful, and to develop these emotional entanglement…
Kara had once mourned her failure, for she had been charged with preserving the ways of her people. Her first command had been to keep Kal Kryptonian.
A task she had failed even within herself.
“You hoped it was something else?”
Lena looked at her so sadly and so sweetly and swallowed.
“Yeah,” she said in a thick voice, “I kinda did.”
Kara smiled in spite of herself. When she sighed, it was as if the weight of a world slid off her shoulders.
“Can’t a girl have two secrets?”
Lena’s eyes widened.
“One day a long time ago, very very far away, a young Kara looked over her shoulder and watched the shockwave shatter the crust of her planet as its core exploded. She lost everything. Her world, her family, her culture, so many things. Tastes. Colors. Places. All gone.”
Lena wrapped her arms around herself, averting her gaze.
“I knew I’d lose you eventually. I just wanted to keep you as long as I could.”
Lena reached up and rubbed at her eyelids with her fingers.
“Do you remember when your mom’s goons threw you off the balcony?”
“Yes,” said Lena.
“Do you remember how I held you when I caught you?”
“I do.”
“I wish I hadn’t lied. I wish I’d never put you down.”
Lena said nothing and did not look up. Kara could hear her heart racing, practically feel the tension in her limbs across the room.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I lied. I’ve always known I could never keep you, I just didn’t want to make it end.”
Lena looked up with tear-wet eyes.
Then she lunged across the room, crossing the gap between them in long strides. Kara Danvers -Kara Zoe-El, Supergirl- was caught almost completely off guard. It wasn’t until Lena was practically charging into her arms, leaping into her, that she remembered to cushion the impact, catch her gently and make sure she didn’t slam herself into an unyielding wall of Kara.
She was so surprised, so shocked into helpless acceptance, that she didn’t offer the slightest residence when Lena reached, grabbed her neck in a firm hold, and pulled her into a kiss. Kara’s stomach did a backflip and she was helpless, undone despite all her strength. For a moment both their eyes opened and they looked at each other in a wordless exchange and Kara began kissing her back in earnest. Lena’s sharp breaths and soft moans instantly kindled a hot need inside her, thrumming like a plucked guitar string, and she effortlessly lifted Lena onto the kitchen counter.
“Holy shit, you’re strong,” Lena breathed.
“Of course I am,” she whispered into Lena’s kiss. “I’m Supergirl.”
And at long last, Kara found something she wanted to taste more than potstickers.
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#love confession#yet another love confession#Kara is sloppy about her secret identity#Lena is in denial#useless bisexuals#yet another identity reveal#angstycorp#angst and fluff#one of Kara’s lesser known powers is super kissing#soft casual Lena#disaster bisexuals#The potsticker place gives Kara free food#I mean she said she flew on a bus guys#smoochcorp#makeoutcorp#fade to black#but yeah you know where this was going#kara needs a hug#Kara needs to kiss girls#hashtag let them kiss
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Do you think Bruce would introduce y/n to the justice league? I could totally see her simping over the flash (Or conner Kent 👀).
The first time you meet Conner, you’re immediately smitten. He’s tall, gorgeous, and has that perfect blend of confidence and awkward boy-next-door energy that you thrive on.
You don’t even bother introducing yourself properly. After the initial “Hey, pretty boy, wanna fuck?” incident, you lean into your new role as his unsolicited sugar mama.
Conner, tries to respond, but you’re already calculating how much of Bruce’s money you’ll need to spoil him.
During one mission, you dramatically announce, “Conner deserves everything! Clothes, gadgets, vacations—all on Daddy Bruce’s tab!”
Once, you bought him an entire motorcycle. When Bruce found out, he dragged you into the Batcave, his voice dangerously calm.
“Explain why my credit card statement says you purchased a $50,000 bike.”
“It’s for Conner. He deserves nice things.”
Bruce’s eye twitches. “Conner can fly. He doesn’t need a bike.”
You shrug. “But he looks so good on it, Bruce. Don’t be stingy.”
You’re constantly “borrowing” Bruce’s money for ridiculous things.
“Bruce, I need a million dollars.”
“For what?” he asks, already exhausted.
“To buy Conner a pony. He’s always wanted one.”
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not giving you a million dollars.”
“Fine,” you huff. “But don’t come crying to me when Conner’s sad and pony-less.”
You have a love-hate relationship with Diana. You’re in awe of her beauty, strength, and grace, but you’re also deeply insecure.
During one mission, you stop mid-battle to dramatically compare your boobs to hers, much to everyone’s horror.
“Diana,” you sniff, clutching your chest, “I’ll never be able to compete with perfection like yours. It’s not fair!”
Diana, ever graceful, reassures you, “You’re beautiful in your own right.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re perfect,” you reply, before glaring at Bruce. “He never says anything nice to me.”
Bruce, utterly done: “Because you don’t deserve it.”
During a training session, you randomly grab Diana’s hand and place it on your boobs.
“Feel that, Diana. Am I Amazon material yet?”
She humors you, nodding seriously. “You’re getting there.”
You: “If I bulk up, can I join Themyscira?”
Barry finds you hilarious. He loves how unfiltered you are, even when it gets way too inappropriate.
Once, during a mission, you casually said, “Barry, do you think you could vibrate fast enough to—”
Barry, cutting you off, flailing: “DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”
You just smirk. “I’m just saying. There’s potential.”
He starts speed-dodging your flirting, but you’re persistent. “One day, Speedy, you’ll come around.”
You have exactly one question for Hal when you meet him:
“So, hypothetically, could you make a functional dild—”
Hal, already holding up a hand: “Nope. Don’t even finish that thought.”
You pout. “Why do you even have the ring if you’re not going to use it creatively?”
Clark tries his best to remain polite and patient, but you test his limits.
“You must’ve been sculpted by the gods,” you tell him once, blatantly checking him out. “What’s it like being perfect, superdaddy?”
“I… um… thank you?” Clark stammers, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while Bruce glares daggers at you.
You immediately give Arthur the nickname “Aquadaddy” and refuse to call him anything else.
“Look at those arms, Aquadaddy. What’s your bench press, a blue whale?”
Arthur smirks, clearly amused. “Something like that.”
You: “Bet you could throw me across the room.”
Arthur: “Why would I do that?”
You: “For fun. And because I’d enjoy it.”
You’re also obsessed with his tattoos.
“Did it hurt? Can I touch them? Are you planning on getting more? What if we got matching ones?!”
He indulges you for about five seconds before realizing you’re just trying to find an excuse to grope his arm.
“You’re worse than Barry,” he mutters.
During an underwater mission, you accidentally blurted out, “Do mermaids exist? Be honest.”
Arthur: “They’re… complicated.”
You: “Complicated? Are they, like, your exes?”
Arthur groans, swimming away while you cackle.
You’ve made it your life’s mission to torment Bruce.
When the League gathers for a meeting, you always find a way to embarrass him. One time, you slid into the room dramatically, pointed at him, and declared, “That man is the reason I’m not married yet!”
Bruce: “How is this my fault?”
You grin. “Because I’ll never find another man who looks as good in a suit. You’ve ruined my standards.”
You are Bruce’s biggest headache. Every time he turns around, you’re doing something wildly inappropriate.
During a League movie night, you plop yourself on the floor between his legs, resting your head on his thigh.
“Your thighs are so firm, Bruce. You ever think about becoming a leg model?”
Bruce just stares down at you, utterly done. “Go sit somewhere else.”
You grin up at him. “Nope. This is my spot now.”
As unhinged as you are, everyone in the League has a soft spot for you. You make them laugh, even if it’s at Bruce’s expense.
And while your antics are embarrassing for Bruce, they all know you’re a fierce fighter and incredibly loyal. When it matters, you’ve got their backs—and they wouldn’t trade you for anything.
Except Bruce. Bruce would absolutely trade you for five minutes of peace.
#🕊️.ask#🕊️. dc comics#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#justice league#justice league x reader#yandere justice league#diana prince#conner kent#conner kent x reader#conner kent x you#yandere bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#barry allen#barry allen x reader#flash x reader#green lantern#green lantern x reader#superman x reader#yandere superman
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they beg to be taken back, SKZ.
featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )
summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys realize they can’t live without you, and come to beg you for a second chance!
contents — angst, mentions of fights, possible reconciliation.
bang ♢ chan
bang chan had always been composed, the leader who held everyone together. but when you broke up with him, the cracks in his armor showed. he respected your decision and convinced himself that it was for the best, despite the emptiness growing unbearable.
he wasn’t himself since and the people around him began to notice. the usual spark in his eyes dimmed, and the weight of your absence felt suffocating. he replayed the last argument over and over in his head, agonizing over what he could’ve done differently. but as much as he respected your decision, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to try, just one more time, to fight for what you both had.
it was late when he showed up at your doorstep, his hand hovering over the doorbell. when you answered, you were more than surprised to see him standing there, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he was carrying the weight of the world. his hair was disheveled, eyes rimmed red. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“chan? what are you doing here?” the nickname slipped from your lips almost too easily and you suppressed the urge to recoil. being around him — being his, was too easy. even with the two months apart, one look into his eyes was all it took for everything to come rushing back.
“i… i needed to see you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly and his australian accent slightly thicker, which was a sign of his nervousness. “i know you said that it’s over, but i can’t accept it — not without trying to make things right.”
you felt something in your chest lurch, and for a few moments you were rendered speechless. a large part of you wanted to forget the fight and what lead up to it, but the smaller part of you kept reminding you of how alone he made you feel despite being together. “we’ve already talked about this. you need to let me go. i... i don’t want to go back to feeling the way i did.”
he shook his head, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i can’t just let you go,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i know i messed up. i wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, i treated you like another responsibility, and i hate myself for it. but please, give me a chance to prove that i can do better. i can’t lose you like this.”
“chan…” you looked away, your heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. your own eyes blurred with tears and you tried to blink them away.
“i know i’m asking a lot,” he continued, taking a tentative step closer. his hands itched with the need to reach out for your waist; the feeling of your skin under his palms a muscle memory. “but i love you. i love you more than anything, and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. tell me what i need to do, and i’ll do it. just… don’t give up on us.”
his desperation was raw and unfiltered, and it was clear that he’d spent every waking moment thinking about this moment. whether you took him back or not, he was determined to fight for you until the very end.
felix ♢
felix was a wreck after the breakup. the ever-present sunshine in his personality dimmed, replaced by a quiet sadness that the others noticed but didn’t know how to fix. he replayed the moments leading up to your decision endlessly, wondering where he went wrong. no matter how hard he tried to respect your choice and acknowledge his mistakes, his heart refused to let it go.
one rainy evening, he found himself standing in the reception office of your workplace while soaked to the bone. he didn’t care that the receptionist was eyeing him in annoyance for dripping on the floors, or that he looked homeless from his red-rimmed eyes and masked face. when you finally made your way down after a call from your superiors, you were shocked.
“felix? what the hell?” you whisper-yelled, your voice laced with concern despite the shock as you grasped his arms to lead him to the bathrooms instead of the ac-blasting reception so he wouldn’t get sick.
“i had to see you,” he said, his voice trembling. both from the cold and his overwhelming feelings. “i couldn’t just… let it end like that.”
you sighed, grasping his freezing hands in yours and holding it under the hot air of the hand drier, not caring that you were in the men’s room. felix couldn’t care less either as he momentarily basked in the feeling of your soft hands in his after so long. “i know i hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i can’t let you go without telling you how much you mean to me.”
“and you thought this was the smartest way to do it? by getting yourself sick?” you shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. he broke your heart, you tried to remind yourself to keep yourself steely. it didn’t work.
“i know i made mistakes,” he continued, his voice breaking as he sniffled and you avoided his gaze and chalked it up to the cold. “i wasn’t there for you the way i should have been. but you… you’re everything to me. you’re the reason i smile, the reason i wake up in the morning. please, tell me how to fix this.”
his vulnerability was heart-wrenching and you felt your own eyes blur through your silence. felix didn’t look away from you the entire time, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i’ll do anything, anything to make things right. just… don’t walk away from me. from us.”
as the rain continued to pour outside, felix stood there, baring his soul to you. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to take him back.
lee ♢ know
lee know was stubborn by nature, and after the breakup, he tried to convince himself he didn’t need anyone. he put on a brave face around the others, burying himself in practice and work. taking on excess time to keep his mind off you worked for a while, but even then every time he went home to the empty silence of his apartment, your absence hit him like a freight train.
his members began to notice his stubbornness and attempt to dismiss your relationship, giving him the space he needed as they hoped he’d work through it. but it began to become clear he was taking the ostrich’s way out — burying his head in the sand and pretending everything was fine.
it took weeks for him to swallow his pride and realize he didn’t want to deal with the emptiness anymore. the fight was so stupid and you were the love of his life, so why weren’t you together right now?
he wasn’t one to beg, but losing you was something he slowly realized he couldn’t bear. and so one evening after heavy contemplation, he found himself standing outside your apartment door, clutching his phone in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.
when you opened the door, you paused and your eyes widened in surprise. your treacherous heart missed a beat and you attempted to school your expression to normal. “minho? what are you doing here?”
“i, uh, i needed to see you,” he said, his usual cool demeanor replaced with a hesitance you rarely saw.
your mind flashed with the hurtful words he threw at you during the argument and you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “i thought we agreed that separating was for the best.”
“maybe i thought so at first,” he admitted, his voice soft but firm. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. i can’t pretend that i’m okay being without you because i’m not.”
“minho…” you started, looking away as you didn’t know what to say.
“i know i don’t say it enough,” he interrupted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “but i love you. i loved you then, and i love you now. and i hate that i let you go without fighting for you. i hate that i was so stupid.”
“you hurt me,” you said, a slight wobble in your voice that you attempted to mask with by clearing your throat softly. but the hurt in your eyes was hard to miss. “i can’t just forget that.”
“i know,” he said, stepping closer. he put the flowers down on the floor by your feet as he took your hands in his, his palms warm. “and i don’t expect you to. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. because i mean it when i say i won’t make the same mistakes again.”
he squeezed your palms softly, bringing your fingers up to his lips. “i know i’m not the best at showing how much you mean to me. but you do — more than anything. and if there’s even the smallest part of you that still feels the same way, please… give me another chance.”
it wasn’t easy for lee know to open up like this, but the thought of losing you for good outweighed his fear of vulnerability and hesitance. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was determined to show you just how much you meant to him.
hyun ♢ jin
hyunjin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the breakup managed to shatter the carefully built walls around his emotions. he threw himself into his art and practice, hoping it would drown out the ache in his chest. but no matter how many brushstrokes he painted or routines he perfected, nothing could fill the void you’d left behind.
while hoping to take a walk on evening , hyunjin mindlessly ended up walking into your favorite park, the place where you’d spent countless nights talking about dreams and fears. as usual, you were there sitting on the same bench you’d share, a book on your lap but your mind and gaze were elsewhere.
hyunjin stood there for a few moments, unable to look away until your wandering gaze settled on him. you paused, startled to see him there, his usually confident posture replaced by a tentative nervousness as he slowly walked to you.
“hyunjin?” you looked up at him, unsure if you should address him in public since your relationship was over. he was dressed in black, a mask covering the bottom half of his face, but you recognized him immediately.
he hesitated for aa moment before he sat down beside you, a small bittersweet smile tugging at his lips even though you couldn’t see it. “i wasn’t sure you’d be here,” he admitted.
“i didn’t know you’d be here either,” you replied cautiously, fidgeting with your book in your lap. would you have come if you knew? maybe, maybe not.
he took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto you even though you wouldn’t look back at him. “i just... i needed to see you. i can’t keep pretending i’m okay with this when i’m not.”
“hyunjin, we’ve already talked about this…”
“i know,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with emotion. “but i can’t let it end like this. i know i hurt you really bad, and i hate myself for it every day. i thought i was protecting you from this life and me, but all i did was push you away.”
your fingers softly tightened around the book, trying to calm yourself against the raw emotion in his voice. “it’s not that simple.”
“i know it’s not,” he said, scooting slightly closer. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so pretty. “but i love you. i’ve always loved you, even when i was too scared to show it. and if there’s even a small part of you that still cares about me and what we had, then please… let me try to fix this.”
his voice broke as he added, “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to. just… don’t give up on us. not yet.”
you finally looked up at him and your breath hitched at the proximity. the vulnerability in hyunjin’s eyes was almost too much for you to bear. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to give him one last chance. he wouldn’t lose you again.
i.n ♢
jeongin had never experienced heartbreak like this before. the breakup ended up hitting him harder than he ever thought possible. he spent days replaying the fight you both had in his head, wondering how he could’ve done things differently. his hyungs tried their best to cheer him up, but their efforts only seemed to highlight the emptiness he felt without you.
you were his first relationship, his first kiss, his first love and the woman he thought he’d marry some day. he’d questioned his success as an idol, he’d question his talents — but the lifetime of your relationship was one thing he never had to question. so to have that one dream shattered was more than the average heartbreak. jeongin would probably never date again.
only nine days had passed since you left, and after those 200 hours, jeongin couldn’t take it anymore. he knew your schedule in and out, and he knew exactly where you’d be on a weekend evening at 5.
he showed up at your favorite café, the place where you’d spent countless afternoons together and took a seat at the very booth you’d always sit at, counting down the minutes to when you’ll show up.
so when you walked in and spotted him sitting at your usual table, his nervous smile and the familiar warmth in his eyes caught you off guard.
“jeongin?” you asked cautiously as you approached, looking around the almost empty area. “what are you doing here?”
he stood up quickly, his hands fidgeting as he spoke, wanting to reach out to you. “hi. i… i wasn’t sure if you’d come here today, but i had to take the chance.”
you hesitated, unsure of what to say. it had barely been over a week since your breakup. “what do you want?”
“i want to apologize,” he said earnestly, his voice quiet but steady. he had already made up his mind. “and to ask for another chance.”
“jeongin, we already talked about this,” you replied, shaking your head softly. the argument was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t plan to give in anytime soon. yet one look into his puppy-like eyes was all it took. damn.
“i know that,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “but i can’t just let it end the way it did. i know i hurt you, and i know i wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved, but i want to make it right. i need to make it right.”
you sighed, hesitantly sitting down across from him. “it’s not that easy.”
“i know it’s not,” jeongin said, his gaze earnest. he was not going to leave without you. “but i love you. and i’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. i’ve been thinking about everything i did wrong, and i promise, i’ll be better. just… don’t shut me out completely. you don’t have to take me back now, but know i’m not going to let this be the end of us.”
his voice softened as he added, “i know i’m asking for a lot, but please… let me show you how much you mean to me. even if it seems a little too late.”
you found yourself softening against your will. jeongin’s sincerity was palpable, and the quiet determination in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t giving up on you. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.
han ♢
han had always been known for his bright energy, and the way he could light up a room with his laughter. but ever since the breakup, his spark was gone and it became glaringly obvious. the jokes came less frequently, and the music he created sounded hollow, even to him. he missed you, missed the comfort of your presence and the way you always seemed to understand him when no one else could.
his group members had tried to give him the time and space he needed, since your relationship was long-term and impactful. you had been by han’s side since before stray kids, and the loss of your presence in his life was something all 7 of them combined couldn’t match up to.
the moment han decided he couldn’t stay away any longer, he abandoned the practice session and rushed straight to your place without even thinking it through. the journey was a blur and his body ran on instinct until he was standing outside your door.
his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie as he rehearsed what he wanted to say for a few minutes before knocking once he was semi-confident of what to say and had plastered a small nervous smile on his lips.
when you opened the door, his smile faltered at the sight of you. “hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with hesitance, looking over the sight of you in your pajamas.
“han? what are you doing here?” you paused in shock, not expecting his presence out of all things.
“i… i couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. he forgot what he planned to say. “i know i don’t have any right to be here after what happened and what i said, but i needed to talk to you.”
you looked over his sweaty and disheveled appearance as if he ran here, and crossed your arms, looking away. “we already talked, han. what’s left to say?”
“a lot,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly — from being out of breath, or from the prospect of losing you, he wasn’t sure. “i know i messed up real bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t —” he paused, swallowing hard. “i can’t lose you.”
you sighed, trying to keep your composure. you knew his words were true. “you realize that now? after all that was said and done?”
“i know what i said,” he said, stepping closer. “but i need you to know how sorry i am. i didn’t realize how much i was taking you for granted until you were gone. and now… now i feel like i’m missing a part of myself. you, and what we had, none of that can ever be replaced. you were the one, and i was so stupid for letting you go like that.”
“han…”
“i’m not asking you to forgive me right now,” he continued, his voice cracking. “but i just want one chance to show you that i can be better. please, just give me that chance. i won’t screw up again.”
his vulnerability was raw and unguarded, and the tears welling up in his eyes mirrored the ache in your chest. his presence only made you realize what you were missing. han wasn’t one to beg, but for you, he’d put his pride aside if it meant that he could win you back.
seung ♢ min
seungmin prided himself on his ability to stay composed, but the breakup had shaken him to his core. he replayed your last conversation over and over, analyzing every word, every tone, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. the silence in his life without you was deafening, and no amount of logic could convince his heart to move on.
he knew he had no right to approach you or ask for forgiveness after his neglect, but damn was it hard to get past your absence in his daily life. meals, practice and sleeping alone felt void — like a puzzle piece was missing, leaving the actions feeling inadequate.
it took him a month to realize he couldn’t go on without you, weeks to decide how he was going to approach you, and another handful of days to work up the courage and find himself standing outside your door. his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt sweaty.
when you opened your front door, you were startled to see seungmin there, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitance and unease. “seungmin? what are you doing here?”
“i…” he hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor as he suddenly felt a wave of unpreparedness. “i needed to talk to you.”
you were surprised but crossed your arms and kept your expression guarded, equally as hesitant. “we’ve already said everything that needed to be said. why now?”
“no,” he said firmly, meeting your gaze. a troubled look in his eyes. seungmin wasn’t sure if he felt like crying, or throwing up. “i didn’t say enough. i didn’t fight for you the way i should have, and i can’t let it end like this.”
“seungmin…” you frowned softly
“i know i made mistakes,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i know i wasn’t always there for you the way i should’ve been. but i love you. and i can’t just let you walk away without trying to make things right.”
you sighed, looking away. “it’s not that simple. you hurt me.”
“i know,” he said, his voice softening. “and i hate myself for it. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes. i just need you to give me a chance.”
when you didn’t respond immediately, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “i’m not asking you to forget everything. i’m just asking for the chance to prove that i can be better—that i can be the person you deserve.”
the quiet determination in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard from him before. it was clear that seungmin wasn’t just asking for forgiveness—he was willing to fight for you, no matter how long it took.
chang ♢ bin
changbin wasn’t used to feeling helpless, but after the breakup, he felt like his world had been turned upside down. he threw himself into his music, trying to channel his emotions into lyrics, but even that didn’t offer the relief he was hoping for. the studio felt empty without you. his group mates tried to cheer him up, but nothing could replace your touch, the sound of your laugh or the way you’d encourage him after a long day.
it didn’t take long before he realized he couldn’t let you go. your presence couldn’t be replaced by practice or writing, and every heart wrenching feeling being poured into his file of unreleased songs. it had reached a point where he had gotten tired of the separation and ended up impulsively making his way to your apartment one evening.
changbin’s heart was pounding as he worked up the courage to knock, freezing in surprise when you suddenly opened the door in that purple shirt of yours that you always wore to grocery shop. he stared at you quietly for a few moments, watching how your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.
“changbin? what are you doing here?” you spoke softly, your gaze flickering around the hall to make sure no neighbor was out.
he hesitated, feeling extremely unprepared despite replaying the conversation in his mind the whole ride here, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i just needed to see you,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
“bin, we’ve already talked about this,” you began the nickname slipping too easily, but he shook his head.
“no, i need you to listen,” he said, his voice firm but he had to clear his throat to stay composed. “i know i messed up. really bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t lose you. i don’t know how to be without you.”
you sighed, fidgeting slightly as you looked over his disheveled hair and troubled expression. he wouldn’t meet your eyes either. “it’s not that simple, changbin. you can’t just show up after what happened and expect everything to be okay.”
“i know that,” he said, his dark eyes pleading as he ran his palm over his face. he wasn’t one to beg but if he left this without knowing you were his again, he didn’t know what he’d do. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. i’ll change. i’ll be better. just tell me what you need, and i’ll make it happen.”
you looked away, trying to maintain your resolve, but his words slowly chipped away at your defenses. he was the best you’d ever had, until he wasn’t. “why now, changbin? why couldn’t you do this before and how am i supposed to believe you’ve changed?”
“because i was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, looking up at you as he reached out to grasp your hands in his. “i was scared of failing you, or of not being enough. but i realized i’m more scared of losing you forever. i wouldn’t be able to bear that.”
his voice trembled and he nearly found himself in tears, leaning his forehead against yours. “please, give me another chance. let me prove that i can be the person you deserve.”
notes: something about writing sad shit and horny shit really makes me tingle. anybody interested in an individual smut fic?
#skz#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#skz scenarios#skz fics#skz imagines#skz reactions#skz smut#stray kids smut
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COME FIND ME, MY LIGHT.
(natasha romanoff x reader)
summary | What began as an attempt to bring Christmas back to Natasha turned into something deeper as both of you realised that love is what truly warms the heart this season. By Christmas Eve, Natasha wasn’t just in love with the holiday again: she was in love with you, and maybe- just maybe- you had been in love with her all along too.
tags | christmas fic! hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, dead family trope, alternative universe so no avengers, you’re both a bit sad! :/
notes | i want a christmas love like this so what better way to manifest than by writing a fic abt it hehe. this was also inspired by my fav person’s return to tumblr and her love for the holiday - @please-destroy, thank you for inspiring this by just being you! this is also a part of your gift, surprise!! everybody, go read her stuff now. it’s truly amazing!
word count | 5K
Merry Christmas!! ⊹♡
Since the moment you met, you knew Natasha carried a storm inside her. It was always tamed, hiding just beneath the surface of her eyes. But, from a year of friendship, you’ve noticed that storm that seemed to erupt around this time of the year. Being your only friend, she was always the one to accompany you on your trips out around the city. It’s there where you noticed the way she flinched at carols and avoided the cheerful chaos of Christmas markets you brought her too, by moving through it as fast as she can. The world’s merriment seemed to mock her darker memories. She confessed one night, in a rare moment of vulnerability and a very expensive bottle of wine, that Christmas had always been a painful time for her. Her voice, usually steady and unwavering, softened as she looked at you across the table. She told you about her sister, Yelena—the only person in her family who had ever truly cared about Christmas. Yelena had been the kind of person who could find joy even in the bleakest of places, someone who refused to let the world’s coldness harden her heart.
“She loved it,” Natasha said, her lips curling into a wistful smile as if she could still see Yelena bustling around their childhood home. “The lights, the snow, the decorations. She’d drag me into whatever shop she could find, looking for things to make the house even more festive. Ornaments, candles, the cheesiest, most stupid Santa hats—whatever she could get her hands on.” She paused, her gaze unfocused as though she were looking back through the years.
Yelena had been the one to make Christmas feel like magic. She knew all of the Christmas carols, singing along even if the notes were slightly off-key. This joy followed her into her adulthood, and even when she became sick. Every year, she insisted on stringing up lights around their shared apartment —“even if we don’t have a tree, Natasha, we’ll have lights. You know it’s all about the glow.” She was fearless, mischievous, and relentlessly stubborn in her belief that joy was worth chasing, even if it didn’t come easy. “She’d bake,” Natasha continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Not well obviously— she couldn’t stand for long at the point. Plus, her cookies had always been terrible—but she didn’t care. She’d make a mess everywhere and laugh at herself, daring me to do better. I never tried, though. I always just watched her and took her to bed whenever she was done.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass, her knuckles whitening slightly. “She believed in traditions, even when there was no reason to. Especially when there was no reason to,” she added, “she said traditions gave people hope, something to hold on to in the dark. I didn’t get it then—I still don’t fully— but with time, I understood she was trying to help me be okay with the world when she was no longer around.”
Yelena had been more than just a younger sister to Natasha —she had been her tether, her mirror, her light. She was the last person left of her family, and the only one who ever made Natasha feel things she often tried to ignore: a steady warmth, a strong connection, the possibility of life being worth more. She was everything Natasha wish she could be.
And when Yelena died, Christmas died with her.
“There was no one to care about it anymore,” Natasha said, her voice breaking for the briefest of moments before she pushed the emotion back behind her walls, blinking her tears away. “No one to make it mean anything.” You reached across the table, placing your hand over hers. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t meet your eyes either. For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the air between you thick. “She would’ve liked you,” she murmured after a while, her voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “Yelena… she always liked people who made things feel… safe.”
Your chest tightened, the weight of her words settling deep in your heart. You realised, in that moment, just how much Natasha trusted you—how much she had given you by sharing this piece of herself. From that moment, you made a promise to yourself: a promise to return Yelena’s light back into her life.
⊹♡
One morning, you found yourself lost on a tree farm. Rows upon rows of evergreens stretched out like soldiers in formation, their frosted branches from the night before glistening in the morning sun. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound for a moment. Natasha walked beside you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat, her eyes on swivel but not necessarily looking at the trees. She hadn’t said much since you picked her up that morning, you weren’t entirely sure if it was the early start or the occasion that silenced her.
“This one’s nice.” You said, gesturing to a stately Fraser fir with almost symmetrical branches. She stopped, gave the tree a quick once-over, and shrugged. “It’s fine.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, moving along until you could find the next one. You had planned on finding a tree that you both could put up at her place, but with each step, it seemed like this tree would be better suited living at yours. You tried again. “What about this one?” You pointed to a taller tree, its branches also slightly uneven but full of character. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I guess. If you like it.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t inviting either. You let out a small breath, watching it cloud in front of you before dissipating into the icy air.
“No, we can keep looking.”
Laughter and the occasional clatter of a fallen tree echoed through the air. You couldn’t see them mostly but could imagine families adorned in colourful hats and scarves scattered across the farm. Natasha, however, didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes back to skimming over the trees with a detached disinterest and her surroundings, her mouth set in a way that told you she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Do you want to go home? You asked gently.
She paused, her head tilting slightly as if weighing whether to respond. “You wanted a tree,” she said finally, her voice even. “So we’re getting a tree.”
“It’s not that important.” You said. “If you’re not into it, we can go.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m fine.” She said, her voice clipped. Then, softer: “Let’s just look over there.”
You didn’t press her further.
The two of you wandered deeper into the farm, the trees becoming denser, their branches heavy with snow. You found yourself wondering if Natasha even saw them, her eyes not even bothering with her environment anymore as she kept her head down towards the snow, her mind clearly somewhere far away. “How about this one?” You tried again, stopping in front of a modest blue spruce. Its branches were sturdy, the kind that could hold up heavy ornaments, and its shape was pleasingly perfect. She stopped beside you, her eyes lingering on the tree. She didn’t say anything right away, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss it like the others. But then she tilted her head, considering.
“It’s okay.” She said, and while it wasn’t glowing praise, it was a step up from fine.
“You sure?” You asked, not wanting to push.
She nodded, her gaze lingering on the tree a second longer. “Yeah. It’s fine.” She finished, before turning abruptly back in the other direction. Later, the workers secured the tree to the roof of your car, their cheerful banter filling the space as you and Natasha stood off to the side. She didn’t say much, but when you glanced over at her, you thought you saw her mouth twitch—just the faintest hint of a smile. “Thanks for letting me tag along.” She said quietly.
You offered her a small smile. “I’m glad you came.”
⊹♡
Snow finally began to settle permanently in the middle of December. It clung to the rooftops and frosted the tree branches outside your apartment. Winter had truly arrived. You hadn’t seen Natasha since that morning; her work had whisked her off to the West Coast for an urgent business trip, leaving you to decorate the tree in your tiny apartment alone. Your living room was silent except for the soft hum of a holiday playlist you’d set to shuffle, but you were used to the lingering echo since moving in.
You missed her terribly.
Without Natasha here, you were unable to focus on anything but yourself: your terrible breakup last Christmas that had you packing your bags and running away to a different state, your argument with your family that had been the last time you’d spoken to them and the reason why you weren’t invited home this year, your sadness that crept up whenever you were forced to sit in silence with yourself. Deep down, you know she could see through you, could see how you suffered much like she did. It’s why you both clicked together instantly. But the difference with Natasha is that she never pried, never pushed you to talk about what you weren’t ready to say. And it wasn’t like you wanted to dwell on these things, but they lived inside you now, demanding attention in the silence.
Your ignorance was bliss, until it wasn’t.
And days when Natasha went away were the worst.
The doorbell rang at a late hour. Behind it stood Natasha, her coat dusted with fresh snow, her cheeks flushed pink from the nipping cold. She looked exhausted, her carry-on slung over one shoulder and her laptop bag in the other.
“You’re back?” You blurted out, wondering why she was here and not at her own place. It was Wednesday after all.
“I wanted to see you.” She admitted, shuffling awkwardly at her confession.
You pulled her through the door, allowing her a second to set her bags down with a tired sigh, her shoulders finally dropping as the door clicked shut behind her. “How was the trip?” You asked as you moved toward the kitchen, already reaching for the kettle and her mug.
“Exhausting.” She replied, shedding her snow-damp coat and draping it over the back of the chair. “And frustrating. Clients were indecisive, as usual, and the meetings went in circles half the time.”
You gave her a sympathetic look as you handed her a steaming mug of tea. “At least now you’re done for the holidays, right?”
She hummed in agreement, her fingers wrapping gratefully around the warmth of the cup. Despite the drink, you noticed her shiver and disappeared into your bedroom. You rummaged through your drawers, pulling out an oversized purple sweatshirt and some grey sweatpants.
When you handed them to her, she raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t have to—”
“You’re not sitting around in wet clothes, Natasha.” You cut her off, gesturing toward the bathroom. “Go change.”
By the time she emerged, looking infinitely more comfortable in your clothes, you had noticed the snow starting to pick up outside. Large flakes swirled under the glow of the streetlamps, a storm intensifying.
Perfect weather for what you had planned.
You grabbed a spare hat and scarf from the coat rack, along with a pair of gloves, and tossed them at her.
“What’s this?” Natasha asked, catching the items with a puzzled expression.
“We’re going out.”
“Out? In this weather?”
You were already pulling on your own coat and boots, ignoring her protests. “Yes, out. You’ve been cooped up in airports and meeting rooms for weeks. You need this.”
“I need sleep.” She muttered, but she already had her coat, reaching for the hat, her lips twitching as if she was trying not to smile.
“Come on. You urged, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door.
The streetlights cast a warm golden glow on the fresh blanket of snow, and for a moment, she hesitated. Her reluctant smile cracked through the guarded exterior she so often wore when you were outside. It was like sunlight breaking through clouds. Looking down at her watch, she noticed the time read 1am. “Oh my God, it’s the middle of the night,” she moaned, shaking her head, “and it’s freezing!”
“You’re Russian.” You deadpanned. “Aren’t you genetically programmed to thrive in this?”
She shot you a withering look, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her. “That’s not how it works and you know it.”
She turned back around towards your building but before she could move any further, the first snowball struck her shoulder with a soft thwump. She froze, blinking in disbelief. You stood a few feet away, grinning triumphantly, the remnants of the snowball crumbling in your hand. She swung back around, her eyes narrowed, lips parted in exaggerated shock. “Oh, so that’s how it is? These are your clothes you know!” Before you could reply, she bent down, scooped up snow, and hurled it at you. It hit squarely on your chest, the icy cold seeping through your coat.
“Hey!” You yelped, laughing.
“You started this!” She shot back, her voice light—playful in a way you rarely heard.
And then it was war. Snowballs flew in all directions, and the street filled with your laughter, echoing off the quiet houses. Natasha’s aim was deadly accurate, and you were sure she was holding back for your sake. It was quite pathetic. At one point, she feigned defeat only to pounce on you with a pile of snow that left you sputtering.
“You’re a cheat!” You gasped, brushing snow off your face.
“And you’re slow!” She quipped, already forming another snowball to smush in your face.
The cold stung your nose and turned your cheeks raw, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the way Natasha laughed—real and unrestrained, her head thrown back, the sound almost musical in the still night. It was the kind of laugh that felt like a gift, something rare and precious, and you never wanted it to end. Finally, both of you collapsed onto the snow, breathless and flushed. The stars peeked through the gaps in the clouds, and the world seemed impossibly quiet, save for the sound of your labored breathing. Natasha’s head rested on your shoulder, her knitted beanie (that actually belonged to you) slightly askew. “Okay,” she said between gasps, “I admit—that was fun.”
“You’re so welcome.” You teased, shifting to look at her.
“But that’s only because I beat your ass.”
She looked so beautiful in this moment. Her cheeks were rosy, the same shade as her damp hair where stray snowflakes had melted. She was at peace—something you wish you saw more of. You brushed a gloved hand against her cheek, then leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her icy forehead, unable to stop yourself.
“You were right. You’re freezing.” You murmured.
“Maybe.” She replied, her smile small. She shifted closer, laying her head on top of yours. “But I don’t mind.”
⊹♡
With both you and Natasha no longer at work, meant she could hang out with you more often. It was late one evening —you both had spent the day inside your apartment doing absolutely —when she insisted on a walk, claiming the air was getting "stuffy," though you suspected she just needed an excuse to stretch her legs.
Somehow, you had ended up in the suburbs in New Jersey.
“You know, this is kind of perfect.” She said, glancing over at you with a small smile. “No one’s out right now.” You laughed softly, the warmth of her gaze doing more to fight the chill than the layers you’d bundled yourself into. “Yes, well, the suburbs In Jersey are surprisingly magical when nobody’s around.” You joked, sarcasm evident, as you nodded toward the rows of houses strung with twinkling lights. It felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of scene you’d only read about.
The two of you turned a corner and were met with the soft harmony of voices carried on the wind. A group of carolers stood in front of a house, lanterns glowing in their hands as they sang “Silent Night.” Natasha paused, her steps slowing as she tilted her head to listen. Her expression softened, a rare kind of calm washing over her features.
“You don’t strike me as the caroling type.” You teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.
“I’m not.” She admitted, though her lips curved into a grin. “But... it’s nice, isn’t it? Peaceful.”
It was odd. This was the first time you’d seen Natasha act normal with the idea of Christmas.
“They make it look so easy.” She said after a while, her voice quiet.
“What do you mean?”
“They make it look easy believing in... I don’t know. The magic of it all.” She added, as her brow furrowed.
You turned to look at her, the soft glow of the carolers’ lanterns catching in her green eyes. “Maybe it’s not about believing.” You said after a moment. “Maybe it’s just about... letting yourself feel it. Even if it hurts, let yourself feel all of it.”
She stood quietly for a beat before adding, “Yelena loved this song.”
You stayed silent, letting the moment slip away as she became lost in the tune. Natasha's expression contorted with pain as the song finished and the group moved on, but made no move to leave. Without hesitation, you clasped her hand tightly, guiding her away and back in the direction of the city.
You both walked in silence the entire way home.
⊹♡
The next time you saw Natasha was the following weekend when she came over for a sleepover. You could tell the temperature had dropped even more just by the state you found her in at your door. You could only see her eyes. She was wearing your beanie again, with a scarf wound tightly around her neck and the exposed parts of her face. She carried a mismatched tote bag that practically bursted at the seams, the telltale sign of someone who couldn’t quite decide what to pack.
She’d never slept over before.
Well, purposely.
Later that night, in the cozy warmth of your kitchen, you began pulling out ingredients for gingerbread cookies, demanding the taller woman come stand beside you once her ‘bones were warm enough.’ Natasha remained perched on a stool, her favourite mug clasped in her hands, watching you with a raised eyebrow and a half-smirk.
"Our first sleepover. And you’re putting me to work? At this hour? I almost died coming over to see you.” She teased, glancing at the clock.
It’s nearly midnight.
"It’s time for midnight gingerbread.” You replied, beaming as you tied an apron around your waist. "It’s a tradition now."
Now?" She echoed, laughing. "This is literally the first time we’re doing this."
"Exactly, that’s how traditions start."
Natasha rolled her eyes but hopped off the stool to join you, muttering under her breath about wishing she had froze to death on the way over before tugging at your apron strings like a mischievous child, pushing you slightly away from your spot so she could fill it.
“Fine, let’s get this over with.”
The process was chaotic from the start. Natasha’s never baked before, and it showed. The first mishap happened when she cracked an egg with a little too much enthusiasm, sending yolk sliding across the counter. And from then, she managed to do nothing correct without your assistance. You were halfway through laughing when she retaliated by flicking a bit of flour at your cheek.
"Did you just—"
Before you could finish, she grinned devilish and dropped more flour over your head, “oh no, looks like you’ve got a little something there.”
Again, the process was chaotic.
Precision measuring gave way to messy improvisation as flour flew through the air in clouds of white. Natasha was unrelenting, chasing you around the island with a bag of powdered sugar like it’s a weapon. By the time you called a truce, the counters, the floor, and both of you were completely dusted with flour. "You look ridiculous.” You said, laughing so hard your sides ached. She wiped a streak of flour off her nose and smeared it onto your shirt. “Speak for yourself. You look like you’ve never seen the sun before.”
When you finally managed to clean up enough to resume baking, Natasha was benched to mixing the dough— far far away from the flour— but it took her all of ten seconds to abandon the spatula and dig in with her hands. “Are you sure this is hygienic?” She asked, grinning as she squished the dough between her fingers like it’s Play-Doh.
You’re pretty sure she doesn’t know what Play-Doh is.
"Absolutely not.” You replied, shaking your head. But neither of you cared. Somehow, The batter never even made it to the oven. After a mutual taste test—"for quality control," Natasha insisted upon —you realised you (she) had eaten most of it. "So, we’re out of ingredients." You admitted, licking a stray smear of molasses from your thumb. Natasha plopped down on the floor, leaning back against the cabinets with a satisfied sigh. “Good.” She said, licking a bit of dough off her finger. “The batter’s better anyway.” You sat beside her, the warmth of the oven lingering even though you never used it. The kitchen was a mess, the cookies a total failure, but none of it mattered.
You both fell asleep that night with the biggest smiles on your face.
⊹♡
Natasha ended up staying the next weekend too. Christmas fell on a Sunday, the big day seemed to sneak up on both of you, but for now, it was Christmas Eve, and the night stretched on, timeless and unhurried. After watching a few Christmas movies, the two of you found yourselves curled up in front of your fireplace — the fireplace being a YouTube video on loop coming from your television. The crackling flames painted your surroundings in shifting shadows, the room bathed in a burnt orange haze that made everything feel a little softer, a little more intimate. Natasha’s arms were wrapped securely around you, her presence grounding and warm. You hummed an old carol you heard once before under your breath, a lullaby that filled the quiet. Her hand traced lazy circles on your back, her fingers light but steady, as though she was trying to etch the moment into her memory. You watched her, unable to help yourself. The way the firelight kissed her skin, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, the peace in her expression— how rare it was to see her like this. Truly at ease. Vulnerable, but not guarded. You wanted to hold this moment forever, to preserve it for her in the way she deserved, and selfishly for yourself.
Falling for Natasha wasn’t difficult. From the beginning of the friendship, there was a constant undercurrent, a slow burn that never fully ignited, yet refused to fade. You fell in love with her so suddenly—in the quiet moments—that you couldn’t figure out when she became more to you than just a friend. Or if she was ever just that. And over the past year, you’d learned there was so much more to her than the cold, unyielding exterior she presented to the world. No one loved as much as she did. And now, as you sat basically on her lap, the space between both impossibly vast and unbearably close, you realised that falling for Natasha wasn’t just easy—it was inevitable.
“This is what Christmas is supposed to feel like.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, like a thought she hadn’t meant to say aloud. As if she didn’t want to disturb the silence. Her gaze was distant, yet there was a softness in her tone that made your chest burn. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before they could fully form. “You miss her.” You finally said. It wasn’t quite a question, but Natasha understood. Her eyes flickered to yours, that same vulnerability reflecting through. “I always miss her.” She admitted, her voice even quieter now, almost fragile. She didn’t need to say Yelena’s name; you knew. “It’s strange… even after all these years, I still expect her to be here sometimes. Like she’ll just walk in, scolding me for not keeping the lights on all day or dragging me out of the house to help on her latest conquest.”
Your heart cried out with something deep and tender, the kind of feeling no words could ever quite capture. “I’ve got something for you.” She looked at you, her brow furrowed slightly in curiosity as you stood and walked to the Christmas tree. From beneath its branches, you retrieved a small, carefully wrapped box and brought it back to her—one of many gifts you’ve bought for her. “This was supposed to be for tomorrow,” you said, sitting down beside her again, “but I think it’ll mean more tonight.” She took the gift, her fingers brushing against yours briefly before she began unwrapping it. Beneath the paper was a small music box, its pearl-coloured sides adorned with golden, intricate carvings. She opened the lid, revealing a tiny engraving inside: the words “My Light” in Russian reside underneath a picture of Yelena in her youth, dressed as an angel for a school nativity play, her beaming smile radiant and full of life.
Natasha’s breath caught, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the edges of the engraving. “How did you—” she began, her voice breaking.
“You have to twist the key, Nat.” You said softly, closing the lid of the box.
She turned the key, the lid opening to reveal her younger sister all over again; as the music box began to play a gentle melody. But it wasn’t just music—it was a recording, faint but unmistakable hidden under the notes. The sound of Yelena’s voice filled the room, singing “Silent Night” with all the enthusiasm a child could muster for the slow song. Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth, and tears streamed freely down her face as the recording picked up another voice. It was quieter, steadier, but unmistakably hers. A younger version of her sang along with Yelena, their voices blending, only broken by their shared giggles as they sang together, sometimes stumbling over the lyrics. Her shoulders shook as she listened, and you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. She clung to you, her face buried against your neck, her tears damp against your skin, as sobs rocked her slender frame. You held her tightly, wishing you could somehow ease the weight of her grief and the bittersweet joy of this moment.
Her lips trembled as she tried to form words in the broke of your neck. “This…this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I don’t even know how you did this—” She pulled away from you to glance back at the music box, her fingers delicately tracing the engraved picture of Yelena. “She was my everything. The only good thing I had for so long – moya sestra (my sister), moy malen'kiy svet (my little light.)”
You nodded, squeezing her hand. “I know. And now you have her again, even if it’s just a little piece.” Natasha set the music box down carefully, as though it were made of glass. She leaned forward, confident in her actions, in her love for you—a soft kiss pressed to your lips.
She had never kissed you before.
She wanted to again.
“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”
You leaned in, kissing her once again, the taste of salt comforting. “You deserve everything good in this world,” you said softly, stroking the remnants of her tears, “and you deserve love, Nat. I’ll promise I’ll remind you of that every day.”
You placed a delicate hand over her heart and spoke, “I see you. And in this light of yours, I see her.”
She kissed you again, softer and longer than the last, her lips brushing yours; fuelled behind every emotion, every feeling, every part of her heart that now belonged to you, “Thank you for giving her back to me.”
You smiled softly, brushing a stray red curl away from her face. "I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering, for as long as I can. To remind you there’s always light to find, even in the darkest nights."
She leaned in, resting her forehead gently against yours. "You already have."
You smiled, brushing a stray red curl from her face. “I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering for as long as I can. And to remind you of her light. With you. With Yelena.”
She leaned in, her forehead pressing gently against yours. “You already have.”
#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff#marvel#natasha romanoff x y/n
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drew and actress!reader argue about their next steps
masterlist | actress!reader masterlist
this is a combination of a few asks and takes place pre-OBX season 3. warning for some angst + arguing
Y/n ended her call with her manager Morgan with a sigh. It was a conversation she had been dreading, but she also knew was inevitable with the direction her career (and character on OBX) was moving. She had been dropping hints to Drew that her contract with OBX was ending, that she wanted to move onto some different projects, Caroline’s character arc was coming to a close…
“Hey, baby.” Drew smiled as y/n walked into their living room. He was sprawled out on the couch, his limbs propped on the ottoman and Charleston curled up at his side. Y/n smiled lightly at him, the grin not quite reaching her eyes in a way that made Drew’s brain sound off with bells and whistles.
“Um, I just got off the phone with Morgan,” y/n said quietly, Drew leaning in intently as she spoke, “and I don’t think I’m going to be renewing my contract for OBX.”
Drew’s face dropped, his eyes blinking rapidly as he stared at her in a stunned silence.
“W–what?” Drew said incredulously. Y/n sighed, running a shaking hand through her hair. Whether or not either of them cared to admit it, Outer Banks and shooting together was a big aspect of their relationship. Hell, it was how they met and how they spent months of the year practically inseparable on set.
“I– I just…” y/n swallowed harshly, “I want to try new things and I don’t want to feel tied down to—”
“‘Tied down’? Is that really how you feel?” Drew scoffed, shaking his head at her words.
“Drew, you know I don’t mean it like that.” Y/n sighed, her hand resting on Drew’s tensed shoulder.
“What do you mean, then?” Drew said. “‘Cause I’m trying to understand and it just sounds like you think the show’s a burden and—”
“I didn’t say that.” Y/n said sharply. “I love the show and working with the cast— and working with you— but I just… it’s time for me to move on.”
“But I’m still stuck on this— what, this shitty, teenaged Netflix show? I can’t move on?” Drew shook his head. It was hard to not take it so personally when the show had given them so much, and for her to just leave like that… it hurt.
“This has nothing to do with how I think of you or your acting or career. You know you’re… a lot more important to the show than I am and you have a much more challenging role and—” y/n ran hand down her face with a sigh, “—this is 100% only to do with me and my career and my future.”
“But what about our future?” Drew said. “I just… don’t you think this is going to change things between us?”
“But it doesn’t have to. It doesn’t have to change anything.” Y/n said, taking Drew’s hand. His eyes closed, Drew ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh.
“This is… this is really what you want?” Drew whispered, his thumb brushing along the back of y/n’s hand lightly.
“I think it’s the right step.” Y/n said quietly. Drew chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over his racing thoughts and questions before his gaze finally lifted to meet y/n’s. She could see a glint of sadness in his eyes, a recognition that the unique bond of the show would be changing.
“I don’t want you to think I didn’t think about us when I was making this decision.” Y/n whispered, squeezing Drew’s hand lightly. Drew nodded, squeezing her hand back.
“If this is what you think is best, then I support you.” Drew said. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, cupping the side of Drew’s face as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel forgotten or—” Y/n began, but Drew cut her off, kissing her forehead chastely.
“I’m sorry for freaking out, it's just… I can’t imagine the show without you and it just scared me to think about it.” Drew said lowly. Y/n frowned, to which Drew shook his head, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. Her arms snaked around his torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles under her fingertips and hearing the thrum of his heart in her ear.
“We’ll figure it out, ok? I love you and we’ll figure it out.” Drew said simply. Y/n, squeeze him tighter.
“I love you. Thank you for supporting me, Drew. Really.” Y/n whispered.
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 5)
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Word Count: 7.3k
Part 5 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for general warnings.
A/N: Hang in there friends. I will ease your pain soon 🧡
The next day you were, for the most part, unconsolable. Marlene let you lay around in her guest bed while you faded in between sleep and numbness.
The pain was unfamiliar. Hurt because it was so unexpected. Amplified because you were falling so hard for him and thought he felt the same way. Hurt by the immense weight of betrayal and deception that he dumped on you last night. Hurt by the thought that he didn’t want you to know. Hurt because despite the pain you still felt a longing and prayed to just wake from the nightmare like it was all just a bad dream.
The early afternoon sun gave its best attempt to bring some life to you, but you simply rolled away from the window and wrapped yourself up in your warm cocoon. Your phone screen lit up on the nightstand for the umpteenth time and you ignored it.
The apathy you were feeling was weighing you down, paralyzing you from moving from your safe haven. It felt like time wasn’t moving either, and you were just trapped in this moment and helpless to do anything about it.
The 360 your emotions took in the span of 24 hours was unprecedented. It took everything out of you and you can’t stop ruminating on what was and what could have been. Where do you go from here?
Last night, you don’t remember much of what happened when you left Coppers. You were inconsolable and Marlene felt too responsible for you to let you go home by yourself in your condition. She insisted you get in her car and she brought you to her apartment which was not too far away.
She didn’t ask you any questions, and you could only assume what she could possibly be thinking about you now. You felt embarrassed and sick to your stomach whenever flashes from the night before popped into your mind.
How could you have been so stupid?
A tiny knock on the door caught your attention and Marlene meekly poked her head in. She wandered over to the bed and sat at the edge.
“Come on. I made us lunch and you are going to eat.” She patted your bundled up shoulder and got into your face to glare at you. This request was not optional at this point. You owed her big. She placed a bottle of water on the nightstand and you saw her eye your phone lighting up.
“Fine. Give me a minute?” You didn’t sound very convincing. “I promise.”
Marlene left you some clothes to borrow while you were there. An oversized long sleeve shirt and some sweatpants. Comfortable.
Marlene had lunch fixed for you both and slid over a hot cup of coffee as you approached the kitchen table.
She was being far too kind to you. On the way home you remember little beyond the haze of being drunk and your breakdown. You remember sobbing and telling her you didn’t want to be alone. She ended up bringing you back to her place in town and babysat you through the night.
You were grateful to have made a friend in her and her kindness was the light guiding you through the turmoil.
You manage a few bites from your sandwich out of consideration but don’t touch your coffee. The awkward silence is broken after a few moments, you knew the conversation was coming.
“So…” She pauses and then just comes out with it. “You and Joel, huh?” She attempts to drop the topic casually and friendly.
“Not anymore.” You feel your eyes well up again. Tears from anger, sadness and heartbreak. A trifecta of emotions that you don’t recall ever feeling before. Everything about Joel was intense and had been from the moment you met him.
You realize that since meeting him it had all been mostly bottled up inside you. Except for some vague chatter at work, your life with Joel was mostly a secret. Something you kept private because you were shy about being judged for falling for a man so much older than you.
You tell her everything.
“Babe, he isn’t worth the tears.” she said so confidently, like she had so much knowledge about him that you didn’t know.
“I had no idea about Tess.” The words spill out. “I just assumed it was only me. I would have never… How stupid-”
“Joel is an asshole” she cuts you off. Her tone is getting more heated as she gets frustrated that you are blaming yourself for anything in all of this. “What he did was wrong.” Marlene tried her best to keep her judgements to herself, but she always had been very outspoken. You knew she would be an open book if you would just ask. She seemed to harbor some resentment that was starting to slip out.
“How long have they.. You know. Been together?” you choke on the words.
“As long as I’ve known them.” she catches the way you react and takes a step back to explain. “They used to be close. Really close. Over the years they have grown apart. I think nowadays they just fuck around with each other when they are feeling lonely.”
Your heart is in your throat and you want to throw up. You go to speak but can’t find the words, only more tears.
“Sorry. I mean, you should know this.”
She's right, you should know this, and Joel should be the one telling you. You think back to how he was so quick to push you away at the bar and wanted to talk later. You knew something was up and he wasn’t ready for you to find out. Even if you never really defined anything between you both, he led you on. He used you.
“Tess isn’t a saint either.” She interrupts you as if she can hear your thoughts. “This has been a long time coming. They are both toxic.”
You wanted to know what she meant by that, but your mind couldn’t get past his wrongdoings. From where you sat last night, it looked like Tess was caught off guard by him too.
You felt sick to your stomach the moment you realized you were the other woman. Tess didn’t deserve that.
The tears were flowing again. You drag the back of your hand across your face to quickly wipe them away.
“You deserve better.” She reassures you.
Do you, though? You wonder.
You never had the best luck with men. The way Joel made you feel was not something you would be able to replace or move on from easily. He awoke something inside you that you needed to feed. He had a darkness that you were drawn to. A sexual energy that you never sought out before. It was so perfectly hidden behind some neighborly deeds and a tired man’s body.
“Despite it all, and I know how stupid this sounds. How stupid this is. I still… can’t stop thinking about him.” You confess out loud.
You were not a stupid person by any stretch, but you were feeling blinded by how he had been making you feel up until last night. Even after you confronted him, before you really learnt what was going on, you still felt like he was doing this for you. He wasn’t acting like the same person, but you could feel the Joel you knew was still there inside him. Like the face he was putting on was for everyone else, but your Joel was waiting in the wings.
When he had you alone by the bathrooms you could feel how much he wanted you. See how much hurt there was in his eyes when you were crying. He told you it wasn’t about you and you really wanted to believe that was true.
When he held your face in his hand and wiped your tears you knew that whatever was going on, his feelings for you were not something to question. He wanted you on a primal level and you wanted him to take what he needed from you.
You weren’t in a formal relationship with him. You never had that talk with him. You never asked if there was anyone else. These thoughts were creeping in and making you feel stupid and partially responsible. Your conscience was desperately looking for any excuse to help Joel’s case.
Marlene rolls her eyes. “Joel is nothing but bad news. Look at what he already did to you. Forget him.”
Easier said than done, you think to yourself. The truth is that up until his performance he had been the first guy in your life that made you feel truly desired. It couldn’t have felt so real if it wasn’t true.
He needed you, but you also needed him.
“Marlene…” You pause, trepidation in your tone. “I was falling for him. I think I was in l-”
“Stop.” She cuts you off. “You liked his… handsome charm, don’t confuse it for something more.” An annoyance peaks in her voice.
You had fallen for people before and had relationships based purely on lust and attraction, but this was not it. It was something so unique that you couldn’t even put into words or feelings. A high that he gave you that you had to chase because you needed that next fix so badly.
“And…” She pauses before cautiously saying more. “He is old enough to be your dad. Come on, this wasn’t going anywhere!” She was trying to make you see the obvious things without sounding too critical.
You actually liked that he was older. It was so attractive if not a little bit taboo which just made it that much more exciting. He was worn on the edges but he was so confident and capable with everything he did. Not to mention no one had pleasured you like Joel Miller. You were absolutely smitten by everything he gave to you. He made you insatiable for him in every way.
You brushed off her comments about his age. It was something you loved about him. Something that turned you on that you didn’t feel like defending.
Still, by all counts she was right. You knew the right thing to do would be to move on with your life, without Joel.
“I’m sure whatever you had was fun, but that is all it was ever going to be.” Her matter of fact way of stating things helped to make the reality hit a little less hard.
Maybe the reason it felt so good with Joel is because you wanted it to be something more than it was. The pit in your stomach reminds you of its presence and how this whole ordeal makes you feel sick.
There is a long silence between the two of you, and she no doubt can tell how heavy the words are hitting you. She finishes her coffee and clears the table, taking away your hardly touched plate.
You sit with your thoughts for a moment before joining her at the kitchen sink. You hand her your mostly full coffee mug to pour in the basin.
The elephant in the room is getting too big to ignore.
It didn’t matter how you felt or what you wanted when there was someone else involved.
“What am I going to do now?” You ask her with teary eyes and a meek voice.
“I know Tess pretty well, and she can be scornful. I don’t think she knows about you and Joel, and you should keep it that way.”
You feel yourself disassociated and want to just disappear. Go back to your Boston life and pretend you never met Joel Miller. Find a new job. A new place to live and start fresh, again.
“I like you, and I think you got put in a real shitty situation.” That was an understatement. “I’m not going to say anything to her, ok?”
You nod, and believe her words.
“You are done with Joel, right?” She looks at you for confirmation. “Right?”
“Yeah. Of course.” You look away from her as you answer and the tears flow again. You weren’t sure if you were lying to her or lying to yourself, but you knew it wasn’t truthful. Whatever path you carved out next would be wrong if it wasn’t leading away from Joel.
“Then cry as much as you need to now and put this behind you.”
She brings you in for a comforting hug and you sob into her shoulder.
The worst part of it all is that you still have feelings for him.
—
JOEL POV - The Night Before
As he walked towards the stage to play, he was a wreck inside. Looking calm and composed was just a facade. He was nervous enough to be playing tonight with his carefully thought out song, but now knowing you may very well still be around was tipping him over the edge. There was no turning back at this point and he had to stay the course. He had to get this off his chest and had to wash his hands of Tess. Whatever comes next he would have to take it as it comes.
The thought of hurting you in any way made him sick.
Taking his seat he was grateful for the bright lights on him, making the audience look like anonymous shadows. At least in his mind he could pretend it was a room of nobodies. He never was one to have stage fright. He was a talented enough musician and most of the audience was drunk. He didn’t care what they thought anyways.
He drags his hand along the neck of the guitar, feeling the strings under his calloused fingertips. Taking in a deep breath he adjusts the guitar in his lap. The light reflects off his watch and the shiny, polished wood of his instrument. The stage feels lonely as the room silences with all eyes on him.
He strums his guitar and flexes his hand to loosen up. There is no turning back now and this is something he has to do.
“This one’s…. for Tess.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth.
This moment the only thing that mattered was that she heard this. He never was one with words or talking about his feelings, but he always had been able to lean on music when it mattered. It was the only time he truly let himself be vulnerable.
As he started playing, he blocked out everything around him. His mind was just filled with the memories of Tess. What he loved. What he wanted. What he never got and never will. What he would always mourn but no longer desire. His time with her was over for him. He could feel his heart aching as he sang, but also getting lighter, not realizing how heavy this all was weighing on him for such a long time until he was letting it go.
As the song progressed it felt cathartic. Letting some of his anger slip into his tone and fade out into the ether, taking along his frustrations. Confronting all the feelings he had been holding in for so long. The sadness he felt was mourning, and he knew it would only get better now that he was moving on. He had already been mourning her loss for a long time without truly acknowledging it. Until now.
Living in the memory
Of a love that never was
He was feeling bolder and confident that his decision to be done with Tess was the right one. It didn’t erase their history or make her impact on his life any less significant. What they had was special and always would be. It didn’t have to overstay like it was in order to preserve that history. It was time to move on and stop feeding the resentment that was overtaking everything left that was good.
He would always love her for their history and she had to know so that she could move on too before the damage between them was too great. He knew she would understand and accept it; in time.
Then you crept back into his mind. Finally he was giving himself permission to allow it to, properly.
You filled in all that empty space that was vacant for just mere moments. Another realization that he wasn’t giving everything to you and how much he wanted to. He had been indulging in your companionship with trepidation. Reluctant to open himself up and fearful that it would be another road to nowhere.
Afraid you might not want him and his darkness that came along once you really knew him.
His eyes were finally adjusted to the lights just enough to make out the details in the shadows in front of him.
He couldn’t help himself to look up and scan the audience, searching for you passively. Deep down, he knew you were still out there. He could sense that unexplainable feeling when someone is watching you intently. It made his heart race as he struggled to fight the distraction and finish his song.
'Cause I've done everything I know
To try and make you mine
And I think I'm gonna love you
As if by instinct, he zeroed in on you standing towards the back of the room with tears in your eyes. An invisible rope tethering you together against the odds in the sea of shadows.
When he caught your eyes he had to look away in shame. Disgusted with himself that you were collateral damage in his situationship. He choked on his final words, and they came out low and shaky.
For a long, long time.
He strummed the last chords of his song and fought back the feeling in his throat that was bubbling up. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and the weight of his actions was crushing him. The silence in the room filled him with dread and it felt like time was standing still, like he was in front of everyone naked with his emotions raw and exposed before them. His chest was tight, bursting with an anxious heart beating rapidly with heavy thuds.
A conflicting wave of emotions tears through him and it takes everything not to lose his composure. He takes the deepest breath, closes his eyes and it isn’t Tess that comes to mind.
It’s you.
With his final strum of the guitar it felt like he was releasing himself from Tess. Free after so long and fighting so hard for their relationship. Free to bring his full attention to where his heart was calling him.
Finally the room erupts in applause and he feels the tiniest pang of relief wash over him and snaps him back to reality. He sneaks off the stage and makes his way towards the back. He needed to hold you and tell you how sorry he was and at this point he didn’t care who saw him.
Familiar faces and acquaintances slapped him on the back and boasted to him about how great he did and the gauntlet of drunken patrons slows him down significantly. When he manages to break away and gets eyes on where you were standing you are nowhere to be found.
A hand grabs his sleeve and he turns but his heart sinks when it’s Tess.
“Joel..” she whines through a shaky voice and pulls him to look at her.
He didn’t want to be cruel to her or disregard whatever feelings she was going through but he also didn’t feel obligated to her anymore. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was on her leash. He was done putting her first.
“Tess, not now.” His voice was low and gentle. He really did feel for her out of habit, but he also knew he couldn’t let her try to reconcile. Not yet, anyways. He was open and hopeful to remain friends with her, but she needed to get over him first. He knew her reaction would be anger until she had time to cool off.
“Really? After that you are going to ice me out? What the hell, Joel?” Her anger was increasing with every sound leaving her lips. The last thing he wanted was a blow up with her and he wasn’t going to let her control this narrative any longer.
“Stop it.” He unintentionally uses his size to intimidate her as he steps closer. Silencing her as the remaining empathy leaves his eyes. He was never confrontational with Tess, and this was something new that she did not expect or know how to react to.
A few nosy people nearby get quiet as they try to watch the drama unfold in front of them and pretend to be minding their own business. Joel takes a step back from Tess and furrows his brow.
“I told you. I’m moving on. We’re done now.” He says firmly and sharply points his finger towards her. The tears in her eyes almost make him soften, but he holds firm. “Done.” He reiterates through gritted teeth.
He hated being so cold, but he had to or else nothing would change.
Tess bites her lip and for the first time has no words. She was so used to being the boss and calling the shots and for the most part Joel let her. Not this time. She wipes the wetness that starts to fall from her eyes and walks off, angry and hurt.
“What are you looking at?” He snaps at the prying eyes watching him be a total asshole and then proceeds to walk towards the exit to continue his search. He was quickly running out of fucks to give by this point in the evening.
The bar was starting to clear out a little now that the live entertainment was done for the night. He doesn’t see you and starts to worry you left without allowing him a chance to explain himself.
Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew he needed to see you. To apologize at the minimum and beg you to hear him out. There was so much you didn’t know that he needed to tell you.
He collects his guitar, dons his jacket and makes his way outside. There is a gentle snow falling and a coating on the cars and walkway. Footprints heavily littering the path into the parking lot and fanning out. It would be a fool's errand to pick out your prints or your car under the blanket of winter.
He makes his way to his truck, and carelessly brushes off his windshield with his sleeve.
He pulls out his phone and calls you, but it goes unanswered and to your mailbox. He sends you a text.
Joel: Im so sorry baby
Joel: Please can we talk?
He leans on his truck, ignoring the cold and tries to call you again. And again. The relentless ringing is only silenced by the robotic voice of the generic voice mail operator.
After the 3rd call he left a message.
“Please answer the phone baby girl. I know I don’t deserve it, but I need to talk to you. Please.” His message was delivered with a low, calm tone, barely masking that he was afraid.
Afraid he lost you.
—
READER POV - Saturday Afternoon
Marlene dropped you off at the bar to pick up your car. No one was around this time of day and it felt surreal being back at the scene of the crime, so to speak. She gave you a hug and just nodded to you as you left. Urging you to believe you would be ok, and you had to move on.
When you got home you didn’t even dare look to see if Joel was home. You went inside, took a shower and wrapped up in a blanket to watch TV on your couch.
Whatever was on you didn’t really pay attention. Your mind was just filled with Joel. You wanted to wake up from this bad dream.
You had been vulnerable with him. You were ready to give yourself to him so quickly because you craved that intimacy only he could give. He worshipped your body and made you feel something you never felt before.
Was that enough? Surely not to a self respecting person. It makes you feel sick to be so hesitant to do the obviously right thing.
You so badly wanted him, and knew you couldn’t just let him treat you this way. You felt guilty about still wanting to give him a chance.
You finally gave in to looking at your phone.
You had 34 unread messages from Joel. 9 missed calls and 3 voicemails. You fought the urge to see what he had to say and instead gave notice to your other missed calls. Your mother. She had tried to call you 3 times. You had barely talked to her this past week and didn’t really want to but you also knew she would worry if you continued to ignore her. You were afraid she might also reach out to her precious neighbor too if you gave her any reason to panic. It didn’t take much with her.
You called your mom, lied that you were sick with the flu and that you just wanted to sleep. She didn’t make you talk long thankfully and she didn’t say anything about her handyman neighbor.
The night was getting late and you mustered up enough energy to move into your bedroom.
Seeing Joel’s flannel shirt laying at the foot of your bed hit you hard. You had been so happy and flirty just a few nights before and you wanted that back. It felt like it was taken from you unfairly.
You hugged the shirt to your chest and breathed in his masculine scent that still lingered. The scent that drove you wild with desire.
How were you going to get over this man who made you such a mess?
You tossed the shirt into your dirty clothes pile and got into bed, lamenting how cold and empty it was and wishing you were wrapped up in Joel’s navy blue sheets and stealing his heat. Feeling his heartbeat against your cheek as he holds you close. The ghost of his touch on your skin makes you tear up again.
Fuck you Joel Miller. You mumble out loud to yourself. It wasn’t fair.
You lay there for what felt like hours, your mind firing on all cylinders with no hope of slowing down.
Curiosity won in the end, and you opened up the text thread with Joel. You scanned it quickly and saw a recurring theme of him asking if you were ok, apologizing and worried that you were not home.
Joel: Please just tell me you are safe
Joel: I’ll leave you alone just let me know
Joel: Where are you?
Those were texts from the morning. After your car was back home and signs of life his messages were back to apologizing and what you can only imagine to be a descent of drunken texts from this evening.
Joel: I’m so sorry
Joel: We need to talk
Joel: Please n
Joel: I m fucknig srry
Joel: Just let m tel you and ill stpo
Joel: /
Joel: I ned to talk to you
You wanted to talk to him. You needed some clarity, but you also didn’t want to be tricked into forgiving him because of your body betraying your mind. There was a nagging you could not shake that his actions at the bar didn’t undo the way he made you feel. There had to be more to it or else it would be so easy to wash your hands of him and never turn back.
You started typing a reply and deleting until finally settling on just leaving him on read.
You listened to his first voicemail, and hearing the pain in his voice made your heart break more. He was worried about you and he sounded like he was doing his best to be composed, but you could see through it. That southern drawl makes you melt when you hear him call you baby girl.
You slammed your phone down and regretted giving in to his attempts. It only made it harder to be mad at him.
As you drifted off to sleep with tears leaving wet stripes on your cheeks you decided that tomorrow you would go see Joel. You would go in person and get a true gauge of where things stand. You would also try to do the right thing.
—
JOEL POV - Saturday Night
Midday and he was worried about you. Not only were you not answering him or reading his messages, but you also had not been home. Of course you were an adult and clearly could do whatever you wanted, but he felt entirely responsible for whatever you were up to.
He paced to his bedroom window, looking out through the blinds to see the same snow covered drive. Untouched. He was getting restless.
He flips through your messages and can’t help but look at the pics you sent him during your bedtime photoshoot.
He could feel himself harden and palmed himself through his denim to get some relief. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t control the way his body reacted to you. He unzips his jeans to let his cock breathe as he takes a seat in the living room.
Scrolling through the photos you sent and seeing more and more of your body made him swell. The pressure in his groin became too much to handle with a casual touch.
Fuck he mumbles under his breath.
He spreads his legs wider and slides a hand inside his boxers to stroke himself, imagining it was you and your gentle hands wrapped around his shaft.
The guilt of what he did weighed heavy on his mind but didn’t hinder him from getting aroused. He needed to have you again. Feel your tight pussy gripping him and listen to your sweet moans.
It eats away at him. It was wrong to get off to you especially after what he had done to you.
But it didn’t stop him.
Settling on the second picture you sent, he focuses on how deranged and needy you looked. Hungry for his cock. Your breasts were perfectly in view and still partially clad in his shirt. His scent was all over you in that moment. You were his.
His labored strokes quicken as he fucks into his fist and he comes with a stifled groan.
Sitting alone with his release dripping over his knuckles made him feel like a dirty old man. Getting off to a woman that didn’t want him anymore.
He woke later that evening, awkwardly slumped against the arm of his chair. The house was completely dark except for some embers from his wood stove about to give it’s last breath. He was groggy and sore. His neck ached from the awkward position.
After getting his wits about him, he opened his phone to see you still had not replied. He stumbled over to his window and to his relief your car was parked in the yard.
At least you were home. You were safe. Clearly you did not want to talk to him yet.
He wanders off to his kitchen to pour himself a stiff drink and downs it way too fast before taking a shower and drinking again and again.
As the whiskey clouds his mind and fills him with nothing but remorse for what he did, he sloppily sends you some desperate texts before passing out for the night.
—
READER POV - Sunday
The Sunday afternoon energy was heavy. You had been avoiding Joel in every possible way since Friday night. The exception being your moment of weakness and reading his texts. Instead you buried yourself in a book trying to focus your mind on another world with characters struggling with simpler problems.
The time spent alone had given you some peace to think about what your next move was going to be, but you were still battling with what to do.
If you were not so smitten with him it would be so easy to just walk away. You never questioned his character before and now it’s all you can do. Weighing the damage he did with what you had come to know about him before was not an easy task. It also made you question your own character. What kind of a person would it make you be to continue on with this? Maybe you battled with failed relationships all your life because you never found the one to balance who you really are. Maybe you are just hopelessly lusting over Joel Miller and telling yourself anything that can make it feel ok.
Your anger and hurt was stinging less and making you feel more numb than anything. Marlene’s words of advice were lingering in the front of your mind constantly. You felt guilty for entertaining the idea of talking to him and even more guilty for settling on actually doing it.
Looking out your front window you see his truck parked in his driveway. No fresh tire tracks and covered in snow. You had not seen any signs of life since you returned home other than some smoke from his chimney and a light or two.
The text messages from him did still trickle in at a slower pace, but you continued to ignore them. Wiping the notification off your lock screen.
Marlene also texted you periodically to check in and you assured her you were doing just fine and would be ok.
You made an impulsive decision to go over now before you changed your mind again, not sure what you were going to say or do, but you couldn’t ignore him forever. The more you thought about what your gameplan was the more you started to talk yourself out of it.
You freshened up in the bathroom, applying some light makeup to mask the bags under your eyes and hide the fact that you have been crying for days. You knew deep down you also just wanted to look really good for him. You wanted to spite him and make him want you but not let him have you as some sort of punishment. At least that is what you told yourself.
You bundled up in your boots and winter jacket. Wrapped a scarf around you and put on some mittens and a hat. Your hair falling loosely around your face. You looked cute but completely covered up.
The sun was just starting to set, but there was still plenty of light left to venture outside.
You wandered over to your mailbox and picked up the scent of burning wood. A smoky, campfire smell. It smelled inviting. You heard a chopping sound coming from the direction of Joel’s house and guessed he was outside working. Typical Joel behavior to be outdoors.
As you make your way to his house the campfire smell intensifies and you see some smoke coming from the side of his house. There is a footpath going from his driveway and you decide to follow it to the sound.
As you round the corner, the sight is enough to make you forgive all his wrongs.
Joel’s back was to you and his silhouette is bright and familiar. You could recognize his figure in a lineup with ease. Broad and commanding.
The frame of his body was muscular but not bulky. Toned from his manual labor lifestyle. His broad shoulders and tapered waist were perfectly illuminated by the burning fire next to him.
He was dressed in some dirty jeans that hugged him perfectly and heavy work boots. His torso clad in a rustic, plaid flannel not too different from the one you stole. The sleeves are pushed up and bunched on his forearms and his hands protected with leather gloves.
You see his jacket discarded on a pile of chopped wood and a small brush pile burning next to him, keeping him unnecessarily warm. It looked like he had more than enough body heat radiating off him. Uncomfortably toasty.
The area between his shoulder blades was damp and dark with sweat. The curls in his hair were an unruly mess, especially where they met the hot perspiration on his neck.
Seeing Joel in lumberjack mode unlocked something inside you that you didn’t even know existed. He was so primal in his ability to handle whatever task was at hand. Just as he had been when intimate with you. He could take you away and live off the grid someplace in the wilderness and you wouldn’t bat an eye. He was more than capable of taking care of all your needs.
You feel it deep inside you. That intense heat building that only Joel can make you feel. An arousal coiling up inside you and ready to burst out if given the chance.
He turns to place a section of wood in front of him and makes a grunt sound as he lifts it into place. No doubt it was heavy and judging by his pile, and the sweat on his body, he had been at this for a while. His outstretched arm had his flannel tightly choking his bicep as he moved to adjust the log in front of him. It was obscene to see his body flex and demonstrate his strength. The desire to have his arms on you in this moment and feel the full force of his body against you.
He picks up the axe and throttles it down again with a grunt, wood splintering in front of him as the force from his axe splits the wood into two.
He is nearly panting from the exertion, moving the split wood over to the pile only to repeat it all over again. He pulls his shirt up to wipe his brow. The hard ridges of his muscles taunt you as they shine in the light of the fire. As he wipes his sweat and pauses for the briefest moment to rest against his axe you decide to make your presence known before he realizes you are watching him.
“Hey Joel” you announce softly.
He is startled by you and turns quickly, letting his shirt fall back over his stomach. His expression softens when he meets your eyes. He tosses the axe next to him and pulls off his gloves as he steps towards you.
The heat of his body and his smoky scent hit you all at once as he stands just in front of you, unsure if he should touch you or not. He hesitates but you can see the desire in his eyes to touch you.
“Sweetheart, I’m–” he pauses, and rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m so glad to see you. Lord knows I don’t deserve it.” He gives a side smirk and his best attempt at looking innocent. It almost works.
He steps towards you but you reluctantly hold your hand up. He ignores it and pushes his chest into your palm. His innocence was replaced with cunning intentions. His damp and hot chest sending a wave of desire through you, making you even more wet. You were certain he could sense it too despite your attempts to act put together.
Before you can protest he has his hands on your waist. His fingers wrapping around you and positioned to pull you in close. His needy energy is not something you have seen before. Not like this. Assertive but stepping over a line you put out.
“Joel, stop.” You weakly protest and take a step back from him. His hands slide off your hip as you step away and you can see some panic in his eyes that he misread what this was.
He could clearly see how mixed you were feeling. He was letting his raw desire take the lead and hoped it would help sway you to give in to him and soften your resolve. Whether it was wrong or right, he knew that sexual tension you both had was not going silently.
He also knew that he cared about you more than just as a hookup. Truthfully you had made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was so scared to lose you before he even got to properly have you. His fear was making him act stupid and desperate and he didn’t know how to reign it back. Especially with you being just within your reach. He was tailspinning.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He pauses. “I should have told you about her. It’s not what it looks like. I mean, it is complicated and–”
You swallow back your feelings and look him straight in the eyes. How much more cliche could he get?
“It’s too late for that now,” you countered, realizing that confronting this now was not something you were ready for after all.
Joel chewed his lip, wiping his hand on his chin as he fought back the urge to unleash some of his anger that he had been harboring. Anger he had towards himself that needed to escape. He was getting agitated.
He knew you were right, but he knew he couldn’t just let you go. He lets out a deep breath as he pinches between his brows, releasing a little tension as he exhales and composes his next words carefully.
“I want you to… need you to know I never did anything with her while I was with you.” His words come out desperate, pleading with you to understand. To forgive him even.
You weren’t sure if you believed that. You couldn’t exactly trust him anymore now that the trust had been broken.
“I swear it. There is a lot you don’t know about Tess and-”
Hearing her name on his lips is the last straw and it enrages you, reminding you that you are not here for second chances and apologies. You are here to tell him to leave you alone.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” You declare coldly and emotionless.
Joel stares, he looks like he wants to speak but he isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t sure he heard you right, or didn’t want to believe that he did.
You go to turn but he grabs your sleeve and holds you to face him.
“Please, I need to… don’t go.” He stumbles over his words, grabbing you harder than he meant to, desperate to make you stay.
“You hurt me.” The tears start to fall again as you speak your truth to him. You look him straight in the eyes so he can see your pain from what he did. There was no misreading your tears.
“I know. Never meant for you to get hurt. I can explain-” He panics, realizing you are leaving him and his chance is fleeting.
You struggle to pull your arm away but he isn’t listening and just brings you closer with his strength. He was blind to your obvious demands to stop. Clouded by his panic.
“I owe you an explanation. Let me-” His eyes penetrate into you, begging you to look at him.
“It's too late.” You cut him off. “Lose my number.” Your words bite.
You pull your arm away sharply and continue to walk away. You feel him staring at you and you swear he can hear your heart beating out of your chest. It took every ounce of restraint to hold firm with what you set out to do. You were not going to let him talk you into changing your mind.
With tears welling up in your eye you continue walking forward. You hear him begging you to stop and listen to him.
“Sweetheart, please.” he calls out after you. Pleading with you but you put more distance between him and his words as they get quieter.
Under his breath, Joel whispers “I’m sorry.” When your pace quickens and you don’t look back you swear you can hear him speak those words again and again, but you keep walking.
To be continued...
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S
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Solstice and Sorrow
Azriel x Reader
Word Count: 17427
Warnings: Extreme angst, toxic friends, dark thoughts, fluff, happy endings.
Summary: What will happen when Selena’s (OC) toxic friends poison her mind and make her doubt her worthiness of Azriel when she’s already struggling with intense flashbacks and PTSD during this Solstice season
─── ♡ ───
Selena usually loved the holidays. That feeling of contentment that thrummed in her chest when the air started getting colder, when the spiders, ghosts and pumpkins slowly started turning to wreaths and twinkling lights and she absolutely adored winter solstice. Selena loved sitting around a fire and chatting with her friends a whiskey or hot fudge in hand, she loved giving meaningful gifts to her family. Everything about the holiday was so special.
Yet this year was different.
Azriel had been working on the continent for four months so far, which was…fine. It was fine. It wasn’t the first time he had been gone for so long. Selena had always done her best to manage. Throwing herself into her work until her hands bled that she didn’t have time to think about the ache in her chest. It was harder this time though, not having him here to cozy up with by the fire as snow fell, or to make gingerbread with their nephew.
She had shoved that bittersweet feeling far down though, occasional loving tugs on the bond and the cold weather increasing the numbr of patients she dealt with all got her through the day.
It wasn’t until she recieved written word that he would not be able return in time for Solstice that Selena had gotten really upset, her heart sinking. She had shut off the bond as soon as she had read Azriel’s letter so he wouldn’t feel her sadness and had ignored the twinge of guilt that passed over before she did.
It was her favorite holiday and she wouldn’t be spending it with her mate, the love of her life. Selena had burst into tears right then and there. She was so exhausted these last few months, running suspiciously close to burnout and all she wanted was him.
So of course after a few days of wallowing she went to her childhood friends, they had been begging to see her and drinking in their favorite bar to ignore her feelings sounded like the perfect way to spend her evening and for awhile, it was. The music was just right and the drinks poured faster than Selena could blink. But when she had explained to her friends why she felt so off, they had responed so weirdly.
“Spending every second attached to his hip isn’t enough?”
“Girl..this is good for you! You need some time for yourself.”
“No..we don’t mean it like that just… I mean come on we haven’t seen you in months, and now your complaining about the person your -and no offense honey you know we love you- literally always with.”
“You know what we mean, like you’re always all over him- give the male some room to breathe!”
Selena had left after that, and with the alcohol numbing her she couldn’t feel the harsh cold nipping at her bare shoulders. Her friend’s words echoing in her head until they were the only thing she could focus on. She knew she was clingy, physical touch had always been her love language. It was a reminder that they were safe, that they were here with her, not only that but she loved touching Azriel. Loved holding his hand under the table and crawling into his lap on the couch. Tears welled up in her eyes as she distantly remembered comments from Azriel’s brother’s when he introduced her a few decades ago. They had been surprised at his…willingness to her.
“Who are you and what have you done with Azriel.”
“If you’re here I guess Lena isn’t far behind.”
“And he…let’s you do that?”
Her mind was a whirlwind of memories and voices all overlapping in her head, it made her drunken head spin even faster when suddenly the thought came up so fast from the darkest part’s of her it had her pausing in the middle of the snow covered street.
What if she was somehow forcing herself on him?
What if he had been pretending he was fine with all her advances but in reality he hated them? What if for over a hundred years she had been making her mate deeply uncomfortable?
She let out a strangled sob at the thought. Trying to force herself to be quiet lest she wake anyone up with her misery at this ungodly hour. She had always tried to be respectful, but she had gotten too comfortable and now-
Now she was making Azriel resent her.
Selena couldn’t stop the full on cry that fell from her lips, stumbling forward as tears blurred her vision on her walk home, she didn’t know when she tripped on the loose stone’s and cut her knee open, she didn’t know when the shadows had enough of her pity party and winnowed her home. Selena barely even remembered those same shadows tucking her in bed before slinking off to tell their master.
———
The next morning she was woken up by the blinding intrusion of the sun. Selena groaned, her head was pounding and she turned away from the window, hoping to escape the light but hissed at the pain raidiating through her body at the movement. It took her a few moment’s to remember what happened last night and when she did, she curled up even further in the blankets as she cried once again. Everything felt heavy, like the weight of the entire world was crushing in on her slowly and she couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t escape the truth that she was a horrible mate. The shame was crushing her heart, distant traumatic memories a faint buzzing in the back of her head and Selena decided to stay in bed just a little while longer, at least until she had to get ready for tonight’s Solstice celebration.
Time moved slowly and yet too fast. She had just watched the clock on the wall tick the minutes by, falling in and out of sleep to avoid the heaviness of her thoughts, everything felt numb and yet when the sun started going down Selena felt like she needed more time to rest, to pull herself together.
With a pained sigh she forced herself out of bed, ignoring how the few shadows Azriel left behind in case of emergencies swirled around her feet to make sure she was steady. Her shoulder was throbbing and her knee hurt like a bitch and once she was looking at herself in the mirror she knew why. The fall she had taken was still fuzzy in her mind and she was almost postive that the shadows had lessened the damage. But a bruised shoulder and a scabbed knee was nothing in comparison to some of the other injuries she had faced in this lifetime. The massive hangover wasn’t going to help her healing process so Selena applied some of the ointment’s she kept in the cabinent and took a vial of foul tasting medicine for her headache and set to getting ready for dinner.
———
Azriel knew how important Winter Solstice was to his beautiful mate. Her family celebrated loudly every year before their untimely and gruesome deaths. Whether or not his lovely wife wanted to admit it he could tell that she needed him around even more during this time, to celebrate just as loud as she had before, to cherish and hold her even tighter as a reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. But this damned assignment was ruining everything. He had been stuck an a different continent for months with little to no communication with Selena given the severity of this situation- trying to hunt down rumours about harming the little prince of night. He wished he could shadow-step immediately into his sweetheart’s arms but with how spread thin his magic and how much it would take to do so would nearly if not assuredly kill him. So a flying and winnow combo was the only way he could make it to her and he had left days ago determined to return for her favorite holiday.
Yet he had severly underestimated how much energy he had left for shadow-walking, it was taking more time than usual especially trying to avoid detection from other courts lest he cause a political nightmare. So Azriel regrettedly sent a letter, the words appearing on the magic paper faster than he currently was, he could feel her mates disappointment before she hide it away and the thought almost had him not wanting to return at all to avoid facing that sadness head on. But everything ached for her, every second away felt like his body was slowly shutting down. The bond in his chest anxiously awaiting to return to his other half. He was flying above the clouds nearing Pyrthian’s border when suddenly her quietness on the bend snapped in half and all of her emotions hit him like a brick he nearly fell out of the sky and into the ocean below when he luckily caught himself on a strong current.
He could feel her shame, her drunkeness, he could feel that little ball of anxiety in her chest getting bigger and bigger with each passing second he felt like he was close to hyperventilating right along with her. Azriel had to take deep calming breaths doing everything he could to reach her and calm her down and it only made it worse his mind felt like it was burning and his heart was pumping too fast. He was starting to panic at the weight of her emotions, slowly starting to drift down. He couldn’t fucking think-
Hundreds of years of displine and training had him regaining control of the sitaution on his hand. He had to shut off the bond so he couldn’t feel her, avoiding another untimely fall as he did. Guilt ate away at him for doing so but something else spurred him to beat his wings faster. His mate was hurting and he needed to fix it now. The bond in his chest raged at the thought and the sudden adreneline boost made his siphons flare slightly with a new determination to get there as soon as possible.
———
Dinner went by in a rush and her entire family was sitting in around the fireplace passing around presents, soft music played from somewhere in the house but with like the rest of the noise it all buzzed faintly in the back of her head. She had slipped into this headspace so fast and now she was drowning it and she didn’t know what to do.
A soft hand nudged her shoulder and she pulled her attention away from the window. Her High Lady was standing in front of her with a soft smile holding out a small box in her hands, wrapped up in gold with a red ribbon curling gracefully down the sides. The Inner Circle gave her a few worried glances before returning to their own conversations and Selena flushed with embarrassment at the realization Feyre had been trying to get her attention for awhile.
“Sorry.” She breathed out, wanting to fold in an herself and disappear even further. The fae smiled gently. “Not a problem, it is quite beauitful out there.” Selena hummed in agreement silently thanking Feyre for saving her from any further embarrassment. “This is from Rhys and I.”
She took the gift with a smile and thanked her High Lord and Lady who gave her answering grins in return, after delicately opening the expanse wrapping paper and revealed the book inside she couldn’t but feel a tang of sadness in her heart. She recognized the handwritting stamped on the leather cover. Selena quickly looked up at her friends to confirm and Feyre nodded. It was one of her mother’s medical journals, after her family’s violent death they had all been given out to muesuem’s or research groups that had needed the groundbreaking information inside.
A tear slipped down her cheek as she thumbed the pages. Everything about it was so uniquely her. The messy handwriting, worn cover, the strong scent of her jasmine perfume still clinging to a few of the pages. “I found it in a musuem visiting Day and practically fought the curator for it. Thankfully Helion owed me a favor.”
“Thank you…I-I have no words.” Selena breathed out and Feyre gave her another smile. “There are none needed.”
Present’s were close to being done when the clock struck midnight. Rhys outdoing himself each year with spoiling his mate for her brithday, she was making a joke about need to add a whole wing to the house just so she had a place to put her increasingly extravagant gifts and Rhysand’s eye glinted with mischief at the thought. Soon the night wrapped up and Selena walked home, needing to feel the cold wind on her face as she processed her thoughts.
Any other day she would’ve loved Feyre’s gift, but all it had done was twisted the swirling vortex of shame and grief in her heart. Her mind seemed to grow more weary with the weight pressing down on her. She missed her family, she missed the way her mom sung holiday song’s all year and how her brother’s always played with the colorful lights.
She missed Azriel, and the thought hit her that she would always be missing him, it wasn’t long until he would eventually grow tired of her. She had ruined everything, needing a better escape from her thoughts Selena winnowed home. Grabbing the whiskey on the top shelf Cassian bought a few years ago as an anniversary gift and popped the bottle open, the hands moved on the clock extremely slow and also too fast, drink after drink was poured as her mood soured even more. She didn’t even notice when the door opened and that familiar scent of rain and cedar invaded her senses. Didn’t even notice the thrum of the bond humming in delight until her mate was kneeling in front of her with a soft smile on his face.
“Hi Baby.”
Selena almost broke down in tears right then and there, every fiber in her body screaming at her to jump into his arms, tackle him to the floor and pepper his face with kisses. But her friends word’s rang in her ear like a dark bell echoing in her head tugging on that rotten piece inside her chest. She smiled at him, the sight and scent of him still soothing some of the jagged pieces of her heart. “Hi.” She breathed out softly.
Azriel’s brow’s furrowed at her lack of reaction but he wasn’t surprised he could already make an educated guess of where his lovely mate’s head was at based on the echoed feelings in the bond and the shadows whispering information in his ear. He gently pried the whiskey from her grasp and kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her mouth. She sighed into the kiss and Azriel’s heart hummed in contentment as the bond slowly settled at finally being able to touch her after all this time. He lifted her off the couch and carried her to their shared bedroom. Placing her down gently on the bed and settled next to her. Usually Selena would automatically curl into his side laying her head against his muscled chest and entertwine their hands pressing a kiss to each of his scarred fingers. But instead she curled away from and Azriel seethed silently.
He was usually an extrememly patient male, he had to be in his line of work but she didn’t jump into his arms when he came home, not even kissing him or saying she missed him and now she was pretending he didn’t exist in their marital bed. His patience snapped. He let out a dark growl, sitting himself against the headboard and pulled Selena onto his hips so fast she let out a gasp of surprise.
The sound elicited something within him and his stomach churned with need. But first he needed to check on his gorgeous wife before even acknowledging the desire that had slowly been building up with their time apart. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong sweetheart or do I need to pry it out of you?” He whispered placing soft kisses on the side of her neck. Selena’s eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation, everything felt intensified after their distance. His hand’s massaging her inner thights, his lips slowly moving down to her shoulder, the shadows running along her spine. It was overwhelming and she wanted to lose herself in the feeling, in him. But the voices returned tenfold and snapped their jaws viciously clamping down on her heart and she jerked away from him and off the bed. Hurt briefly flashed across his expression but instead he let out a soft breath.
“W-Why are you doing that.” Selena asked gasping for air. This was too all too much. You’re going to lose him, you’re going to lose him, you’re going to lose him, you’re going to-
“Selena..Baby…” Azriel said in the deceptively soft tone it skittered across her bones and her heat skipped a beat when he said her name. “You’re my mate can I not kiss you?”
Azriel slid off the bed, walking over to her silently he was good at reading people, especially her. He had spent years figuring her out understanding how her mind worked and how her heart sang exactly for moment like these and he knew that she just needed to talk aloud or else those little voices trying to take his mate away wouldn’t go away. She just needed a little push and Azriel knew her body, knew which button’s to push to elicit certain reactions. “The faster you tell me what’s wrong the faster I can fix it sweetheart.”
“I don’t need you to fix it!” She snapped, her voice breaking. “I-I just-“ A shuddering cry escaping her throat as Azriel gently pushed the pieces of her hair back. His heart shattered at the sound, the bond hissing at her dispair and he wrapped his arms around her pulling her close as she cried her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “I don’t…want to lose you.” Selena said gasping for air in between her words.
“You’re never going to lose me.”
She cried harder at that. “I lose everyone, it’s not long before-“
He pulled away grasping her face in his hands softly but firm, locking eyes with her so she could understand the gravity of his words. “Selena you’re not going to lose me whatever things you’re thinking it’s not true.” She let out a painful whimper, cries had subsided to small hiccups as she tried to regain control to speak. “I feel.. like-like you secretly hate me that I am too clingy and annoying and right now…I feel like you’re lying to me.” Her voice broke at the end and a pained sob escaped her lips as she finally admitted to what had beeing weighing on her heart and mind.
Azriel felt like his heart had fucking shattered and turned to dust on the floor.
He felt tears prick at his eyes as he realized how severe she had fallen into her trauma, she had turned away from him not able to face him as more sobs wracked her body. “Selena.” Azriel whispered his voice cracking. “Selena look at me. Please.”
Selena’s heart broke ever further at the pain in Azriel’s voice and she slowly turned, he touched his forehead against hers and than pressing a soft kiss there as well. His hands rested on the side of her neck and the other one on his hip. “Selena I love you. I worship the ground you walk on. I would go fucking insane without you, not having you jump into my arms as soon I got home made me feel like the world was ending. I love it when you touch me, I love it when you whisper how much you love me right before I fall asleep, I love it when you come and find me while I’m working just to curl in my lap. I am so addicted to you it makes it hard to breath and If I didn’t have you I’d go mad. You’re the brightest light in this world, watching you shine is the greatest honor of my life. When you laugh my heart sings, and when you cry it breaks. I love you so much Selena. I am utterly consumed by you.”
Azriel grabbed her hands and settled them over his heart. “Do you feel that? My heart only beats for you and nothing and no one else. Ensuring your happiness and health is something I take very seiously and great pride in.” He was pushing all his love and adoration through the bond it was overwhelming and Selena had no choice but to feel the truth in his words, it spread her entire body with this mind numbing warmth and she let out a watery laugh. More tears falling as she did so. Azriel brushed them away ever so softly with the pad of his thumbs.
“I’m sor-“ He cut her off with a kiss. “Don’t.” He whispered quietly. “You have saved me from myself too many times to count dearest, it’s a privilege to even try do the same for you.”
“I love you.” Selena choked out, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer.
“I am your’s Selena, and you are mine.” Azriel said with finality. Selena whispered it back to him, trailing soft kisses up his neck and peppering his face with their soft lips. Azriel grinned, the dutiful shadow that had been with her that night had already told on her toxic friends, whom he’d never liked and believe it or not this isn’t the first time he comforted Selena after their misplaced words. They would be dealt with, Azriel growing tired of their bullshit affecting his love.
But right now all he wanted was to hold her. He picked her up and she squealed happily, wrapping her legs around him as Azriel walked them back to the bed. He was leaning above her his hands still gripping her hips tightly as he pressed his lips to hers. “Do you believe me when I say that I love you?” Azriel asked, pushing his love through the bond once again and Selena nodded. Azriel smiled, “Good because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
Selena laughed and a moment of silence passed between them as Azriel started pressing more kisses to the inside of her wrists, then her fingertips, than her forehead, her nose and finally her mouth.
“Thank you.” Selena breathed out in the peaceful moment they had created. Azriel just hummed and pressed his lips to hers again absolutely determined to make her feel good, needing to chase away the darkness even further. His hand’s slipped under her skirt brushing against her inner thighs and Selena let herself reveal in his touch and in the all consuming warmth vibrating from his side of the bond with an intensity that thrummed under her skin. The doubt eddied from her mind and Selena sent every ounce of love right back to him as she finally pulled herself out of her dark thoughts.
“Mine.” She whispered with a slight nibble on his lips and he growled lowly, returning the favor. “Mine.” He whispered back.
A/N: Holy shit guys I've been writing this fic FOR WEEKSSSS! I kept deleting and restarting and getting stuck halfway through, this isn't really where I wanted to go with it but omg here we are. I'm not 100% happy with it but thank fuck its done. I might rewrite a different version later but idk. Let me know what you think!
#azriel x oc#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#acotar fanfiction#fanfic#azriel spymaster#acotar#angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff#toxic friends#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger
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~ Danny Phantom ~
If you need a hug, Danny will give you one.
———————
I wish I could wear a smile as easily as you do. There’s something about it—your smile—it lifts me up in ways I don’t fully understand.
Thank you for that.
But seriously, stop using that cold, irresistible charm of yours—it’s distracting, Danny.
———————
Atleast he gave me a cold hug. Because I needed one.
Colored sketches/drafts, whatever. Again. I am so lazy these days… depression hits hard.
———————
It’s late—far too late for anyone to be awake. But here I am, once again, sitting on the cold floor of my room, with my knees hugged to my chest. The dim glow of my cozy lights barely reaches the shadows stretching across the corners.
I don’t even know how he got here, but Danny is leaning against my doorframe, his face half-lit, half-lost in the gloom. His arms are crossed, but his usual lighthearted demeanor is gone. His glowing green eyes… they’re heavier than usual, like they’ve seen too much—carried too much.
“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice almost fragile, as though the words might shatter if spoken louder.
I don’t answer.
I can’t.
My throat feels tight, my chest heavier than the silence pressing down. Instead, I shake my head, my hair falling over my face like a curtain I don’t want to pull back.
Danny sighs, the kind of sigh that feels shared—like he knows exactly how I feel but doesn’t want to admit it. He steps into the room, his boots scuffing against the floor. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit beside me, his cold shoulder brushing against mine.
“I know how it feels,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “To… feel like everything’s too much. Like you’re carrying the weight of the world, even when it’s not yours to carry.”
“Is that what you tell yourself when you disappear for days?” I glance at him, his expression flickering between guilt and understanding. “You don’t really have to be here, Danny. I’ll be fine. I’ll always be fine.”
But instead of answering, he reaches out, his gloved hand trailing against mine. It’s tentative, almost shy, but his cold seeps into my warm skin, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect.
“Stop that,” he murmurs. “Stop pretending you don’t need anyone. And stop pretending that you’re fine, because you aren’t.”
My breath shudders, and before I can stop myself, tears spill over, rolling silently down my cheeks. I hate crying in front of anyone. I hate that vulnerability, the exposure.
But Danny doesn’t look at me like I’m weak.
He just looks… sad.
For me.
For himself.
For whatever weight we’re both carrying.
Without a word, he pulls me into a hug. It’s awkward at first, like he’s not sure if I’ll push him away.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
His arms are strong, but there’s a hesitance to them, as if he’s afraid I might shatter in his grasp.
I don’t.
Instead, I fall into him, my head resting against his shoulder, his purr steady against my ear.
“You know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Just remember that. I’ve been by your side as long as I can remember, even when you didn’t realize it,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly. “But you have to let people in, instead of pushing them away. Just know you don’t have to do these things alone.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that I’ve always been alone. That even when people care and I let them in, they leave anyway.
But his arms tighten around me, and the words crumble before they can leave my mouth. For once, I let myself believe him, even if it’s just for a moment.
The hug lingers, long after the tears stop falling. Neither of us speaks.
There’s no need to.
His presence says enough—he’s just here.
———————
My imagination is beyond otherwordly at this very moment.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#danny phantom fanart#dp fanart#phandom#digital art#procreate#digital illustration#digital drawing#dp art#sketch#virtual hugs#depressing shit#writing#comfort#hurt/comfort#writers on tumblr#fan fic writing#oc#oc art#hugging
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Photo credit to: qvert.tumblr.com Thank you for your amazing art and for inspiring me to write my first Arcane/CaitVi one-shot.
~*~
MIDNIGHT RAIN
The rain was pelting down outside, hammering against the glass windows and at that hour it was a deafening sound echoing throughout the Kiramman Mansion. Some people would find comfort in the rain, find that it actually soothes them but for Caitlyn it was a maddening sound. A sound that kept her from drifting to an eventual slumber.
She had stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, Vi draped over her like a safety blanket but the warmth emanating from her lover wasn’t enough to lull her to sleep, this time. She had shimmied herself from Vi’s arms, careful not to wake her and started to wander around the dark hallways of the mansion, no particular destination in mind.
Caitlyn of course having been raised in this house knew the ins and outs like the back of her hand but there were certain rooms she just didn’t enter anymore. Particularly those her mother frequented. It brought back too many memories but tonight she felt braver than usual. She stopped outside the music room and caressed the golden door handle, slowly twisting the knob until it creaked open, the hinges coming to life after not having been in use for months.
The moonlight was strong enough to penetrate through the cloudy black skies and heavy downpour illuminating the room enough through the open curtains for Caitlyn to make her way around without bumping into anything.
She still felt her mother’s presence around the house but she especially could feel it in this room tonight. The faint smell of her distinctive perfume lingered and Caitlyn could see her mother almost as clear as day behind the grand piano, playing sweet melodies that had Caitlyn in awe and her dad in love.
So much so fascinated by her mother’s talent that she sat her down one day and taught Caitlyn to read music and play her own melodies all before the age of 6 which she did with an expertise that could only be associated with being a Kiramman. The best of the best as some would say. But Caitlyn was just very determined from a very young age.
Looking at the instrument now only brought a cloud of sadness over her. She hadn’t touched the piano in years and wondered if she even remembers how to play. She drags her finger across the top of the now dusty black hood of the piano, leaving a clean trail in its wake. Apparently no one has bothered to clean in here either.
She hesitantly sits down on the cushioned chair, carefully lifting the lid. That too creaks. She runs her slender fingers over the black and white keys, scared to press down. It was probably out of tune by now anyway.
She tests her theory by pressing the first chord she ever learned and to her surprise it rang out clear and in tune. She tries another for good measure and sure enough that too is perfect. She then places both hands on the keys like she was taught and plays the first song she ever learned from her mother. A slow, sweet melody that brings tears to her eyes.
“I didn’t know you could play.” A raspy and sleepy voice disrupts her playing.
Caitlyn immediately drops her hands as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t and turns just as Vi slowly walks over to her and sits besides her facing away from the piano.
“Don’t stop. It’s a beautiful song.” She says, looking at her hands.
“I haven’t played in ages.” Caitlyn confesses, feeling Vi’s shoulder brush against hers, a familiar comfort she has come to cherish more than anything these days. Vi’s touches was slowly but surely healing her.
“I couldn’t tell. It sounded perfect to me.” Vi says truthfully.
Caitlyn scoffs not really on the same page with that statement.
“Would you play it again? For me?” Her voice low and irresistible.
I would do anything for you, Caitlyn wanted to say but instead gave Vi a rueful smile before mustering up the courage to play again. She however chose a different song this time, something with a slightly more romantic feel to it, something she always imagines herself to play if she were in love and now seemed like the perfect time for it. She squares her shoulders and closes her eyes, seeing the sheet music in her mind.
The notes start off deep and low building into a light playful crescendo of melodies and runs and Caitlyn finds herself fully immersed in the song, picturing herself and Violet dancing in slow circles around this very room, close together, so close that they feel like one body moving, one soul intertwined.
She feels the soft weight of Vi’s cheek coming to rest on her shoulder while she continues to play. Her red hair is longer than she has ever seen it cascading down Cait’s arm, the tips tickling her forearm. She is tempted to run her fingers through them instead of having them glued to the keys but she is also determined to finish the song. Vi’s head is perfectly tucked into the crook of her neck, a warmth that seeps into her skin and boils down her spine.
Vi listens to the melody, lost in its beauty, letting the notes wash over her like a balm. She can’t help but to kiss Cailyn’s shoulder, sweetly to the rhythm of the music but that little bit of contact wasn’t enough. She lifts her head then and kisses the inside of Caitlyn’s exposed neck, eliciting a giggle from her lover but her fingers never falter on the keyboard.
Vi takes that as a challenge to continue to kiss a little higher, just below her ear which has Caitlyn pressing the wrong note, the distraction enough to make her slip this time. She however quickly recovers, righting herself and picking up right where she left off.
Vi smirks, loving that she has this effect on Caitlyn with just the press of her lips which also spurs her on to continue. She turns slightly, pressing her chest fully against Cait’s arm and kisses the side of her jaw next. She works her way across Caitlyn’s cheek, peppering kisses all over before she stops short of the side of her mouth.
Vi stays in that position, her nose brushing against the softness of Caitlyn’s skin, until she plays the last note. The sound rings out in the quiet room leaving an eerie quiet in its wake and she waits for Caitlyn to look at her.
When she does, their eyes lock and a sharp intake of breath is shared between them before they slowly come together in fusing of lips. Cait turns toward Vi and softly cups her jaw while they kiss each other in the dark room. Breathlessly they pull back from each other, staying only inches apart. They share a shy smile and Caitlyn’s thumb finds the indented scar on Vi’s lip, brushing over it gently.
“I hate waking up without you next to me.” Vi confesses in a whisper.
“I didn’t want to wake you with my tossing and turning.”
“I’d rather you wake me, Cupcake.”
“I’ll remember that next time.” Cait leans forward leaving a chaste kiss on Vi’s lips.
“Shall we try again then?” Vi proposes.
“To kiss?”
“To sleep. Get your mind out of the gutter, Kiramman.” Vi jokes, “However I do think we can combine the two in some way. How about kissing in bed until we fall asleep?”
“I like the way you think, Violet.”
~*~
PS, the song Caitlyn plays for Vi in this story is Berlin Song by Ludovico Einaudi
#caitvi#vi x caitlyn#violyn#arcane#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#league of legends caitlyn#vi league of legends#arcane zaun#caitlyn arcane#fan fic writing#fan fiction#fanfic#fanart
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ohhh ml this is so good !! The writing was immaculate and story interesting 🤭 would’ve absolutely loved this even if there was no smut, also think i’m officially OBSESSED with boyfriends dad Rafe 💞
“once he found out he was having Caleb he refused to be like him. He built his own construction company from the ground up and worked odd jobs to get to that point so his son would never want for anything.”
i swear i absolutely LOVE dad Rafe, not only is he now mature but the thought of him completely changing his ways for his son is both adorable and simply hot(be a good father it’s hot)
“He’s only wearing a tight white tee that’s just as dirty as the rest of him, his broad chest and thick arms on display.”
imagining it is not enough i need an actual image
“Rafe runs his hand over his head turning sideways under the guise of having to stretch but really he’s hiding the little smile that you keep seeming to bring to his face.”
ok cutie i see you 🤭🤭
“Rafe’s sleepy voice says your name and you can’t help but wonder if that’s how he’d sound moaning in your ear while he pounds his - you’ve gotta stop.”
y/ns so real for that
“You turn his way and rest your palms on the marble countertop he built himself and it almost makes your tits spill out of what little material is covering them. He’s going to lose it.”
now why is y/n lowk kind of cute.. 🤭🤭 bonus
“He sends you another sad glance before walking inside, leaving you alone with Rafe.”
but does he feel bad for cheating or for getting caught is the question
““Yeah?” You glance over your shoulder at him with that mischievous look you always flash him in your eyes and a naughty little smirk painted on your lips. “Do you fucking worst, daddy.””
ok y/n stop this is supposed to be a Rafe fic but you’re getting me distracted 😔✋✋
““Don’t worry, doll. I’m gonna give you the best dick of your fucking life. But first, I’ve gotta taste this god damn pussy.” Rafe admires the growing bruises and the bite mark on your plump ass before grabbing your cheeks and spreading you open so he can run his tongue along your slit to your pulsing clit.”
men who aren’t afraid to eat pussy and enjoy it are so fucking hot
““Quit wiggling and let me devour this pussy, brat. Be a good girl and stay still for daddy, yeah?” Rafe mumbles against your pussy, the vibrations sending your eyes to the back of your skull. “Need you to cum for me, baby.””
eooof yes sir anything you say 🤭🤭
“He grabs your hand with his free one and presses it against our belly where you can feel his cock bulging from inside you. “Feel that? You’re so fuckin’ full of me.””
size kink is going brrr, especially when you remember that this guy is 6’2 😵💫
“Rafe flips you onto your back and grips onto the back of your thighs as he kneels on the couch in front of you so he can pound into you harder and deeper than ever.”
couch sex with this position just does sum to me and i can’t explain it, but nevertheless i am such a slut for this position
also feel like saying that while reading this i can not help but imagine Caleb as Timothee Chalamet lmao
but this fic is immediately going into my faves and i am officially a slut for boyfriends dad Rafe 🎀
Buy Me Presents ⟡˖ Boyfriends!Dad!Rafe x reader ⟡˖
𐙚 Your boyfriend sucks. But his dad? Well, he’s not so bad…𐙚
(Heavily inspired by the book “Birthday girl” by Penelope Douglas and the song “Buy Me Presents” by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s my lil bday gift to myself. Shout out my luv @cameronwillow for beta reading for me.)
Age gap(Rafe is early 40s Reader is mid 20s), Rafe is your Bf’s dad (duh! It’s the whole plot), Reader has a tramp stanp and nipple piercings, Male masterbation, Mutual pining(so so much pining), Thoughts of cheating, Actual cheating (not by Rafe or R), Jealousy/possessiveness Spanking, Pussy eating, Unprotected sex, Biting, Choking, Size kink, She’s a looong one, buckle up!! 18+MDNI!!
You love your boyfriend, you really do. And he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He just isn’t necessarily a good boyfriend either. The easiest way to put it is that he’s neglectful. In every sense of the word. It’s not out of character for him to forget to pick you up from your late night shifts at the bar you work at. He is constantly forgetting your plans, or just flat out ditching them in favor of hanging out with his friends. He never cleans up after himself unless you ask, and even then the chances are slim that he will actually do it. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know how to turn on the dryer. Why would he need to? He knows if he leaves the piles of dirty laundry long enough you’ll get sick of it and wash them yourself. And last but certainly not least, he is the least financially responsible person you’ve ever met. He misses work to the point where he gets fired from every job he’s ever had. He spends all his money on partying and eating out. And now? He’s screwed you out of your apartment that he hardly even pays for since he’s always late on bills.
He decided that having a fucking rager on a Tuesday night in your small apartment complex instead of picking you up from your double shift was a bright idea. You ended up having to get an uber home, which you absolutely couldn’t afford and by the time you made it home your place was trashed and your boyfriend was out front being hauled into a cop car. Apparently when your landlord asked him to shut the party down he got all agro and started screaming and arguing that it was his house and he can be as loud as he wants. And when your landlord didn’t agree? He punched him in the face. So he called the cops and they took him down to the station to cool off. This wasn’t the first time he was asked to break up a party like this, but it was the last. Your landlord evicted him and even though he hardly paid you still couldn’t afford it without even that small amount of help.
He ended up calling his dad from the police station to come bail him out and of course he did. He always does. That’s why Caleb Cameron can’t account for a single goddamn thing in his life, he always has daddy’s money to bail him out. That’s why you are where you are now, staying with his dad, for the foreseeable future. After Mr. Cameron bailed Caleb out, he offered you both a place to stay at his house. His nice house that he built. Which you of course tried to decline.
But after much convincing from both Cameron men, you agreed to move in while you save money to get another place on your own. His dad doesn’t need help with any of the bills but he asked that you and Caleb keep up on the chores and take turns making dinner every night. You’ve been here for a few weeks now and so far you’ve been doing everything. Caleb hasn’t even picked up a single sock off the ground.
Mr. Cameron or “Rafe” as he’s asked you to call him several times now, isn’t bad. He’s been very kind and generous to you since the moment you met him. Which wasn’t until the other day. Caleb never wanted to introduce you to him. You’ve seen him around and of course you know of Rafe Cameron, this island isn’t very big. But from what you can tell their relationship isn’t the best so you’ve never actually had a conversation with him up until now.
He’s been easy to coexist with though. He’s surprisingly low maintenance. Rafe spends most of his day working with the guys on his construction team and then he comes home and showers. If you aren’t working a late shift you always have dinner ready. He comes downstairs in fresh sweats and pops open a beer. Then you, him, and Caleb all eat together. At least you’re supposed to, Caleb was only here the first night you moved in, he’s spent every other night out. Leaving you and his dad to eat dinner together alone.
Tonight is one of those nights. Caleb went out to the bar with his friends, even after you told him you were making his favorite dinner for him. He left before it was even done. Rafe will be home anytime now though. You’ve noticed he’s usually home around five thirty so you have dinner ready and kept warm by five. You made chicken parmesan from scratch and it’s in the oven set to warm while you sit at the shiny marble kitchen island, doom scrolling on your phone. You hear a key in the lock and you hate that ears perk up. The door opens and you hear keys being dropped in a glass bowl before footsteps sound toward the kitchen. It takes him a few seconds to come into view because you also hear him unlacing his work boots, but when he does? You can’t stand that your stomach swoops at the sight of him.
Not only is Rafe generous, successful, cleans up after himself without being asked, he’s always on time and he always asks how your day is. He’s fucking gorgeous. His piercing blue eyes make your skin heat each time they’re on you. His messy mullet seems like he’s been cutting it for years, which there’s just something charming about. Like he could have someone do it for him but he’d rather just do it himself because it’s cheaper and easier. Not that he’s hurting for money. His dad might have cut him off and left him with nothing but once he found out he was having Caleb he refused to be like him. He built his own construction company from the ground up and worked odd jobs to get to that point so his son would never want for anything. His personality just makes him even more frustratingly sexy. It doesn’t help that his thick arms that always seem like they’re going to burst out of his t-shirts are covered in tattoos and his smile, god his smile, it gives you butterflies from your stomach down to your pussy. He always looks particularly edible when he gets off work though.
“Hey, Caleb here?” Rafe walks into the kitchen wearing dirty work jeans and a carhartt coat, his face has a few smudges on it and he really tests your strength when he pulls the jacket off. He’s only wearing a tight white tee that’s just as dirty as the rest of him, his broad chest and thick arms on display. You feel like you’re going to go insane when he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair and it causes his shirt to ride up and show a sliver of waist. You finally pull your eyes away from his body to meet his own and he has a brow raised in your direction. God, how long have you been ogling him? Hopefully he didn’t notice. Fuck.
“Oh, uh- no, he went out.” You let out a small sigh and shrug your shoulders trying to play it off like you don’t care. Like you didn’t make his favorite meal because you’ve hardly had any time together recently. Like you didn’t hope you could eat together then snuggle up and watch a movie together, maybe fuck. But apparently whatever party he went to tonight held priority over his own girlfriend.
“Mmm, he seems to go out a lot, huh?” Rafe chuckles and his lips quirk into a small smile but you can see the sadness in his eyes. Caleb is avoiding him and you both know that. But it’s not like him ditching you to go out is a new occurrence. “Well, I’m gonna go shower.”
“Kay, dinner is ready whenever you’re done. I waited to eat.” You don’t respond to his question about Caleb, you both know the answer, it doesn’t need to be said. His eyes linger on you for a moment and you don’t miss the way they flash to your thighs in your little sleep shorts momentarily before he turns and exits the room. You hate that just the smallest attention from him has your skin tingling. You’re just lonely, that’s all it is. He’s your boyfriend’s dad, you can’t have a crush on him. It’s just a fleeting attraction. You’re not blind, the man is walking sex. And it’s been almost two weeks since you’ve been fucked.
Around twenty minutes later Rafe comes downstairs and grabs his beer like he always does. Then he wanders into the dining room where you have the table set with dinner dished up. There’s an empty plate in front of the chair beside you in case Caleb decides to come home. But you know he won’t. Which makes it all the more hard to not drool over the way his dad is wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black tank top like it isn’t the sluttiest outfit a man could possibly wear.
Rafe could say the same about you though, sitting there in your little pajama shorts and a cropped tank top with a tiny zip up hoodie that you have unzipped halfway so it’s hanging off one of your shoulders. Smiling up at him from his dining room table that has never been set a day in its life up until you moved in with a warm meal prepared for him after a long day. It’s something he’s always wanted, someone to come home to, someone that cooks him meals that aren’t take-out or from the microwave. And he hates how sweet and full of life you are. He hates it because he loves it. You blast music and dance around while you clean. You bring the kind of noise to this house that was otherwise so quiet sometimes he felt like any sound he made bounced off the walls. And you’re so fucking pretty it almost hurts.
Especially because he can never have you. Not only is he old enough to be your father, you’re his son’s girlfriend for fucks sake. But that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy your presence. Especially if Caleb isn’t going to. He loves his son with all his heart but just in the short time you’ve been here he’s noticed he isn’t very attentive with you. He wishes that didn’t disappoint him and also fill him with something that is tinged with jealousy that he pushes away immediately. He just doesn’t like to see his son taking a woman like you for granted. If he had someone like you? He’d worship at her feet and do anything he could to make her happy. He really needs to find a way to control these thoughts he’s been having about you because it seems like they intensify the more time he spends around you and he can’t let a small attraction that he can tuck away in the back of his mind become anything bigger than that. Not with you. He’s just getting older and more lonely every year and you’re beautiful, easy to talk to, and living in his house, wearing those little tank tops and tight yoga pants. It’s just some minor lust, that’s all.
“I made chicken parm and there’s uh - mashed potatoes and sauteed veggies.” You gesture to the food on his plate as he sits down in the chair across from you.
“Thanks, looks good.” Rafe clears his throat and cuts a piece of chicken from his plate, bringing it between his lips with a groan that has you clenching your thighs. “Damn, that’s delicious. This is Caleb’s favorite, right?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m sorry he’s not here.” You sigh and look down at your plate, pushing some food around with your fork. Mentioning the lack of your boyfriend’s presence has another wave of disappointment washing over you. You’re starting to wonder why you even get your hopes up anymore.
“You don’t need to apologize for him, he’s a grown man.” Rafe’s expression hardens slightly, he can’t help it. You made Caleb his favorite dinner and he flaked on you? Not only is he disappointed as his father but he also can’t believe any man would take your sweet gestures for granted. He’d die to have someone be this attentive with him. “I’m sorry he isn’t here.”
“Ha! He’s a grown man, you don’t need to apologize for him.” You throw his words back at him with a smirk and it makes him chuckle, the tension in the air starting to dissipate.
“Well, you got me there.” Rafe runs his hand over his head turning sideways under the guise of having to stretch but really he’s hiding the little smile that you keep seeming to bring to his face. Rafe thinks it might be a little too giddy to be coming from your boyfriend’s dad.”For what it’s worth, this is really good, thank you. I appreciate you cooking.”
“Yeah, no problem, just paying my dues.” It’s your turn to pretend to stretch. The words he said were so simple, but to you, they held so much meaning. To be appreciated for something you do, isn’t something you get very often. “I’m - um- I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah it’s really good.” He pokes the veggies on his plate with his fork and gives them a look of disdain that has you hiding a chuckle behind your hand. You’ve noticed he tends to eat around the healthy stuff you serve him. “But I could do without these veggies though.”
“I’ll make a healthy eater out of you, you’ll see.” You give him a playful glare that he returns with a smile he doesn’t bother to hide this time. “It’ll be good for your heart, old man.”
“Wow! I am not that old.” Rafe brings his hand to his chest in mock offense and it sends you both into a fit of laughter.
“Mhm, whatever you say old man. Let me know if you need help getting up the stairs after dinner!” You lean forward on your elbows and laugh and it takes every bit of willpower Rafe has to not linger on the way your tits bounce at your motions.
“You’re funny, I like talking to you.” You hate that the way he says that makes your body heat because you know he doesn’t mean it like that. And you shouldn’t want him to.
You really need to stop relying on Caleb for rides. This is the third time now that he’s forgotten to pick you up from your two AM shifts and you don’t really have many other options. Your coworkers already left you to lock up for the night, your sister isn’t answering her phone and you’ve never been able to rely on your dad for a single thing in your life. You wish you had friends to call. Or money to get your own car. You groan and throw your head back in frustration when your boyfriend’s phone goes to voicemail for the fifth time. You could call an uber but you’re really trying to save money to get out of Rafe’s hair sooner rather than later. Rafe, he would pick you up. But do you even want to call him? He’s definitely asleep, since he gets up at the crack of dawn everyday for work and do you really want to open that door?
The two of you have been getting along really well the last few weeks, settling into coexisting with one another. You honestly spend more time with him than you do your boyfriend at this point but he’s already done so much for you and you aren’t sure if you want to push it. You could sleep here, on the couch in the office and hopefully Caleb will get back to you by morning. But you really want to take a shower. And if you uber it’s really just setting you back on saving so in the long run it’s going to put Rafe out even more anyway. Fuck it. You click on his contact and it only rings twice before he answers.
“Hello?” Rafe’s sleepy voice says your name and you can’t help but wonder if that’s how he’d sound moaning in your ear while he pounds his - you’ve gotta stop. “Everything okay?”
“Hi, Rafe.” You take in a shaky breath, god you hate asking people for help. “Um, everything is okay, it’s just - is Caleb home?”
“Is he not with you? I thought he was picking you up tonight.” You hear rustling, like he’s getting up out of bed. “He’s not here. He hasn’t been home since this morning unless he came home when I was at work. Are you okay?”
“No, uh - he’s not with me.” You clear your throat and let out a dry, half hearted, chuckle. “He was supposed to pick me up, he must’ve just gotten caught up, maybe his phone died or something. I can’t get ahold of him could you -”
“I’m coming to get you. Stay inside, keep the doors locked.” You hear his belt clanking as he hurriedly gets dressed on the other side of the line. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Seven minutes later you hear Rafe’s pick-up idling outside and your phone is dinging with a text that he’s here. You aren’t sure how it's possible that he got here so fast, considering his house is in a nice suburb outside figure eight and the bar you work at is on the cut, but you don’t question it. You lock up the bar, walk over to the curb, and hop in Rafe’s truck.
“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t have anyone else to call and -” Rafe chuckles but it’s not one of those charming ones you’ve come to know, he seems irritated and now you really wish you would’ve just slept in the bar.
“Don’t, be sorry.” Rafe shakes his head as he puts the truck into gear and pulls off toward his house. “I’m sorry that my son left you hanging like that.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” You wave your hand and try to brush it off with a smile, maybe ease some of the tension. But Rafe’s hands just tighten on the steering wheel causing his knuckles to whiten and he breathes out hard through his nose. Maybe you really fucked up by calling him.
“No. It’s not. It’s unacceptable.” Rafe grits out. He’s trying to not be unreasonably angry but the way he’s watched his son basically neglect you has been grinding his gears more and more everyday. And now he forgets you at one of the sketchiest bars in town in the middle of the night? You were alone, it seems like your coworkers already left. Anyone could have decided to try and break in, what would you have done if he didn’t come?
He hates that it makes him feel animosity toward Caleb, that jealous feeling that’s tinged with possession growing more and more the longer he’s around you. He would never forget you. If it was up to him you wouldn’t work in that bar at all and he’d take care of all your needs and desires. Rafe is old school, he wants a pretty woman to come home to, to cook for him and let him eat her pussy every night before bed. Someone who will keep him in check and make him laugh when it counts. The way the two of you have been living together kind of feels like that, excluding the sex parts. Lines are starting to blur for him and maybe he just really needs to get laid. It’s been over a year now.
“If you ever need a ride, call me. I’ll be there.” You don’t argue, there’s no point. This man is as stubborn as you and if you try and disagree you’ll just go back and forth till one of you caves. And you have a feeling it would be you. His voice holds a finality that just has you nodding in agreement before the two of you fall into comfortable silence for the rest of the drive.
Okay, Rafe seriously needs to get laid. He feels like he’s living in a never ending intro to a porno. He isn’t sure if he’s ever been more thankful or if he regrets ever putting that in the ground hot tub out back but he feels like he’s being tortured. It’s mid November so the pool is covered but the hot tub is free game and you’ve definitely been taking advantage of that. He should be glad, it’s the first time it’s getting real use since he built it but the fact that you go in it nearly every day means you’re in a bikini nearly everyday.
You have a few different ones but the one you’re wearing right now while you walk through the kitchen. You have a pink towel that you definitely brought with you from home thrown over your shoulder and the little platform slides you’re wearing are the only other thing on your body. The baby pink straps of the bikini hug your curves perfectly. The little triangles barely cover more than your nipples and he can see that they’re pierced through the thin material. The bottoms are practically a thong, showing off that little angel wing tramp stamp tattooed on your lower back. Hardly something you think that a girl would wear around her boyfriend’s dad, but he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.
Things have been different between the two of you this last week. Caleb went on a ski trip with his friends and didn’t even bother to invite you. It’s not like they’re your friends, anyway. So it’s just been you and Rafe for the last five days. There was a night that the two of you ordered chinese food and you showed him what a “christmas horror movie” is. Which he really enjoyed. He’s not huge on movies but he can’t deny that he loves a good horror movie.
You laughed and joked together. Playfully teased each other over your food orders and ended up just ordering twice as much food. You both sat maybe just a little too close and your arms brushed every once in a while. It was almost like you both got more brave after that, letting glances linger a little longer than necessary. His hand on the small of your back when he passes the kitchen. Flirty banter. And your outfits somehow seem to be getting smaller and smaller by the day.
His cock pulses as he watches you bend over in your little swimsuit to grab a water bottle out of the fridge and he doesn’t advert his gaze fast enough because when you stand up straight and look over your shoulder at him there’s this mischievous little glint in your eyes and a smug smirk painted on your lips. You turn his way and rest your palms on the marble countertop he built himself and it almost makes your tits spill out of what little material is covering them. He’s going to lose it.
“You gonna get in with me yet, old man? Or are you still too boring?” You tilt your head to the side with a bright smile and your voice is so saccharine he feels like he’s gonna get a goddamn toothache. He can’t go in the hot tub with you though, his control is slipping more and more everyday and being that close to you, wet, in that bikini, seems like a recipe for disaster.
“Guess I’m still too boring, little girl.” Your little ongoing inside joke of teasing each other about your ages makes him chuckle because he’s not really old, he’s only forty two. And you’re certainly not a little girl, you’re a sexy young woman. Too sexy. And too sweet and thoughtful. And you’re fucking funny and quirky. And he hates how bad he wants you.
It’s getting harder to chalk it up to lust the more time he spends alone with you. But he still has hope that he’s just lonely and horny because he can’t like you, you’re his son’s girlfriend for god's sake. Even if Caleb doesn’t treat you like you’re even his girlfriend at all. He’s barely seen him the entire time you’ve lived here. He’ll hit up one of his old booty calls tomorrow, it’s saturday and every woman on this island is just dying for a chance with Rafe Cameron. The only problem is he doesn’t like any of them. He doesn’t have to like them as people to get this pent up energy out though.
“Suit yourself, have fun being old and boring.” You shrug and send him a wink. You let your eyes travel from his face down his body before turning on your heel toward the door. He holds in a groan at the sight of your hips swinging, your ass jiggling in that tiny material. He was already half hard but that sent him over the edge. He needs to take a cold fucking shower.
Rafe runs his hands through his hair, letting the cool water cascade down his back. He lets out an exasperated sigh because truly this isn’t doing shit. He’s fucking cold, still hard, and he can’t stop thinking about what would happen if he did go in the hot tub with you. Was it just a friendly invitation because he built it and you think he needs to relax more? You definitely think that, but the look you gave him said there was more to it than that. The look in your eyes always does. Like you’re saying something to him without saying it and he’s pretty sure he looks at you the same way. It can never be more than just teasing, more than walking that line. You’re off limits and he knows that. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you and what nobody but him knows can’t hurt, right?
Rafe lets his mind wander. He imagines what it would be like if he took you up on your offer. He’d get in with you and sit as far away from you as you could. You’d probably talk because even though Rafe isn’t a big talker, it seems to come easy with you. He thinks about the way the water would make your tits float in that little top and how little tendrils of your hair would fall free from that clip you have in and stick to your skin. He can see that little cheshire smirk you always give him and that mischievous look in your eyes is just straight up naughty now as his mind has you inching closer to him by the second.
You’d press yourself against him, your beautiful tits that he knows are probably so soft pressed up against his arm as you look at him with pouty lips and tell him how bad you want him. He’d grab your hips and pull you into his lap to straddle him and wandering hands would turn into heated kisses while you grind down on his cock. He would finally take that top off and get to see your tits, grab them, suck them.
Rafe grabs his throbbing cock and squeezes the base before pumping it in his hand. He groans in his chest as his head falls and his fantasy continues. In his mind his hand travels between your legs and pushes your bikini bottoms to the side, rubbing your clit a few times before thrusting two fingers knuckle deep in your wet pussy. You’d let out the prettiest moans while he pushes you to the edge with his fingers. And then you’d beg for his cock and he’d fuckig give it to you. The pace of his hand on his cock picks up and his breaths grow shallow as he imagines his hand is you, sliding his dick into your wet heat while you moan his name. You start to ride him and Rafe feels his stomach tighten. The imaginary you’s tits bounce beautifully in his face and it has his cock throbbing in his hand as he spills cum down his wrist.
He pants, the you filled haze he was in starting to fade as he comes down from his high. He turns and washes himself while he tries to shake the regret setting in. He really needs to get you out of his system.
You sigh as you use a damp towel to wipe down the bar, going through the motions of your closing duties. Caleb got home from his ski trip today and you wish you were more excited. You haven’t seen him yet since he got back while you were at work but he’s supposed to pick you up tonight. You told your sister you might need a ride, just in case. You hate that you feel like you can’t rely on him anymore. It wasn’t always like this, he used to be attentive and loving toward you, you used to be best friends. As time went on though, he got comfortable and lazy until it got to this point. You used to get butterflies and count down the seconds until you saw your boyfriend again and right now your stomach just feels like it’s filled with a pit of snakes.
He left you for an entire week, without even so much as an invitation because “he figured you wouldn’t want to go”. He left you the entire week alone in the house with his dad and if you and Rafe didn’t get along so well that would’ve been incredibly awkward. God, Rafe. You hate that the snakes in your stomach start to morph into butterflies at the thought of him. But the instant guilt that washes over you has another round of snakes swallowing the fluttering bugs whole.
These thoughts and feelings you’ve been having toward Rafe have only increased more and more over the last week. You’ve had fun with him. He’s easy to be around and surprisingly funny. You’ve grown comfortable around him and adjusted easily to living in the same space as him. Maybe a little too comfortable. You made yourself cum to the thought of him twice in a row last night. It was the first time you gave in and let your mind wander there but you haven’t cum as hard as you did in a long time. He’s just so fucking sexy and there for you. You’re just lonely, that’s all. At least that’s what you keep trying to tell yourself.
Despite your lack of faith in him, Caleb did end up picking you up from work and he even stopped at your favorite dinner for late night fries and milkshakes like you used to. You laughed together and you remembered how hot he was. His wavy blonde hair, his soft green eyes and charming, boyish smile. It’s almost like you forgot what he looks like from how little you’ve been around him lately. Everything felt better than it has in a while. Not great, but good. You had hope that maybe you and him could get back to normal up until he had you on your back with your legs spread.
Caleb isn’t bad in bed, he’s not the best ever but he’s always satisfied you. He doesn’t go down on you as much as you’d like and no matter how much you ask he won’t be rough with you but the sex isn’t bad. Tonight though? No matter what you did you couldn’t get out of your head. You usually love the way Caleb shoves his face in your neck and moans in your ear but something about it just felt like he was trying to avoid looking at you and the weight of his body as he thrusted deep into you almost felt suffocating. You were wet, you wanted to cum, but your brain wouldn’t let you. That was until Rafe’s face flashed into your mind and no matter how hard you tried to push him out it was like he barricaded himself there. You imagined it was him on top of you instead and it’s embarrassing how fast you came after that. Caleb wasn’t far behind you, spilling into the condom before pulling out of you and rolling over on his back. That was another thing, you were on birth control and no matter how much you begged him to cum inside you he wouldn’t. He said “it wasn’t worth the risk.” He fell asleep shortly after that and even though it was almost four in the morning you couldn’t shut your mind off. So you get out of bed and wander downstairs to the kitchen for a midnight snack.
You nearly jump out of your skin when you round the kitchen corner to see Rafe sitting at the island. Your hands fly up to cover your chest on instinct because all you’re wearing is a tiny silk nightie. You didn’t expect him to be up. God, did he hear you?
“Rafe! Hi! You scared the shit out of me.” You let out a breathy laugh and try to act normal. Your hands find the hem of your nightgown and tug, willing it to cover more of your ass. But that only pulls it further down your tits and the way Rafe is looking at you right now is making you want to melt into the ground. He’s never looked at you so hungrily but he also looks kind of pissed off. “I didn’t expect you to be up, sorry!”
“Huh, well, I couldn’t sleep.” Any hope that he didn’t hear you diminishes in that moment. “If you’re going to get railed under my roof at three in the morning the least you can do is try and be quiet.”
“I-” Your entire body warms and your words get caught in your throat. He really just went right out with it, didn’t he? He couldn’t just pretend it didn’t happen like a normal person? “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah? Me too.” Rafe chuckles almost condescendingly. “I have to be up for work in an hour and I’ve spent the last forty five minutes listening to your fake moans until you finally came.”
“Mr. Cameron.” You gasp at the brashness of his words. Why does he sound like a jealous boyfriend and not someone who’s angry at a loss of sleep? “I don’t think that’s really appropriate… I’m sorry if we woke you up but-”
“No.” Rafe’s tone makes your body tingle with anxiety and something else you try not to dwell on as you watch him push himself up from his seat and round the kitchen island in a few strides. He stops only inches in front of you, his large frame looming over you. It’s only now you realize he’s in nothing but a pair of black, low to the hips sweatpants and it’s blindingly apparent that he isn’t wearing any underwear. “You know what’s inappropriate? Moaning so loud your boyfriend’s dad can hear you from down the hall… Or is that what you wanted?”
He drops his voice to a low whisper at the last part and you’re completely stunned by his words. Especially because he’s not wrong. A small part of you hoped he’d hear you. You didn’t expect this reaction though. Your words are caught in your throat for a minute too long and you know the way you’re looking up at him with your thighs clenched and your eyes blown wide gives you away. And when he smirks down at you, you know you’re caught.
“It is, isn’t it?” Rafe leans down further into your personal space, his plush lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear. “Naughty girl.”
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest and you’re at a complete loss for words. You’re starting to think you fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Rafe pulls back, his eyes feel like they’re setting your skin on fire as he looks down at you like he wants to bend you over this counter right now. But, he doesn’t. His large hand grazes your shoulder as he reaches out to push your hair back and after giving you a final once over from head to toe he takes a few backwards steps before turning on his heel and going up the stairs. What the fuck just happened?
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You can’t believe Rafe is here and with Hollis Robinson, of all people. Her being here isn’t irregular, she comes in here every week to hang all over the different blue collar men. You guess she’s just trying to go for something the opposite of her last husband, midlife crisis and all that. But why does she have to be here with him. There’s no way he didn’t agree to come here just to piss you off. At first you weren’t sure if he just had a naturally flirty nature and maybe you were just thinking too much into it because like you’ve been beating into your own head you’re just lonely. But after last night in the kitchen? And now this? You’re starting to think there’s more to it.
Especially since you want to walk over there and claw Hollis’ eyes out of her skull for how she’s looking at him. And the way he keeps looking over at you over her shoulder with a smug fucking grin painted on his face says a lot. This is payback for last night and if he wants to play that game? You’ll bite. You pull your tiny black tank top even further down, revealing the top of your red bra and you pull up your low rise jeans up slightly more on your hips so they hug your ass. You make sure your tattoo is still on display though, you’ve noticed him looking at it.
“Can I get you guys a refill?” You lean down and rest your palms on the table with a wide smile on your face and you can’t help but press your elbows together to show off your tits even more. The charming smile Rafe was throwing Hollis’ way falls the minute he lays eyes on you. He came here in hopes of riling you up and gauging your reaction to see if this was all in his head but now he’s the one feeling like clawing someone’s eyes out.
He’s picked you up a few times but he’s never come inside the bar and he can’t believe that this is where you work. It’s not particularly dirty but it’s definitely a dive bar, the kind of place guys like him and bikers on the road stop for a beer. If he was the kind of guy that went to bars, that is. But what’s really getting to him is how every set of male eyes in the building follow you wherever you go. They’re like bees to honey to the way you walk around with that sweet smile, swinging your hips. He wants to wrap his coat around you and haul you out over his shoulder so no other man can see you. But you aren’t his, so he needs to play it cool.
“Sure, honey. Another martini, dry.” Hollis barely spares you a glance and wave of her fingers before going back to drooling over Rafe.
She’s sitting in the chair next to him but she has it pulled so close she might as well be in his fucking lap. Her heel clad foot swings back and forth, hitting his calf every few passes and you want to break it off. She rests her chin on her folded hands as she gazes over at him with the biggest fuck me eyes you think you’ve ever seen.
“And a Coors Light for you, right? In the can.” You let your eyes flash from Rafe’s to his lips for just a split moment before locking eyes with him again. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and then pull it between your teeth and Rafe has to literally stop himself from groaning at the sight. Hollis hasn’t solicited a single reaction out of his body the entire night, but every time he looks at you his cock gets just a little bit harder. His plan is completely backfiring on him.
“Yeah, thanks, angel.” The nickname catches you both off guard. It makes his eyes blow wide as he takes in a deep breath through his nose. He’s been holding that back for some time now but it’s true, you are an angel. Your bright eyes, the way you care for him and that little tattoo. A naughty little angel with horns, that is. And even though your insides are melting, you paint on a smug smirk, not backing down from this fight.
“You got it, babe.” You throw him a wink, just catching the way his eyes widen slightly before flicking your hair over your shoulder and turning on your heel toward the bar. You make sure to swing your hips extra because you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you. You love knowing you’re getting to him, maybe not as much as he does to you. But you’re getting a reaction and that fills you with pride you shouldn’t feel.
You make Hollis’ martini without hardly even looking, most drinks have become second nature to you after working here for three years. You peak over at Rafe after grabbing his beer and you immediately see red. Hollis has her leg thrown over his lap while she presses her tits against his big arm that you want to latch onto with your teeth and never let go. Rafe looks half interested in what she’s saying, at least. Especially when he looks over at you and fucking smirks. Yeah, you’re gonna ruin his fucking night. What if he plans on bringing her home? You don’t think you can stand to hear him fucking her from down the hall. Even the thought makes you want to puke and you wonder if that’s how he felt the other night.
That might be wishful thinking though. You paint on your sweetest smile and walk back over to their table, placing their drinks on the table. You make sure to lean over Rafe close enough that your tits graze his other arm. A silent display of possession that nobody but Rafe notices.
“Here’s your drinks, enjoy!” You turn like you’re going to walk away before quickly turning back around. “Actually, I meant to ask, how long will you be here? I kind of need a ride home.”
“He’s busy, I’m sure you can find someone else to take you ho-” Hollis tries to shoo you away but Rafe cuts her off, pushing his chair back enough that her leg falls from his lap.
“When are you off?” Hollis scoffs and detaches herself from him, sitting back in her seat. Thank god. You can’t help the small smirk you send her way.
“In an hour, I’m not closing tonight.” Your eyes lock with Rafe’s crystal blue ones and you can tell he knows what you’re doing. Yet you don’t care. And he’s still letting you do it, so. “If you don’t mind hanging around until then.”
“Actually, I was thinking about heading out soon.” Hollis shoots you a look before resting her red manicured hand on Rafe’s bicep as she looks over at him almost desperately. Pathetic. “You wanna come to my place? Have a glass of wine, get cozy?”
“I would, but I think it’s best I make sure she gets home safe.” Rafe barely spares her a glance while he shuts her down and she visibly deflates. You would feel bad if you didn’t want to rip each one of her thickly mascara lined eyelashes out of her head.
“Aww, really?” Hollis pouts as she tips her head to the side to try and get Rafe to look at her but he doesn’t. His eyes stay on you. “I think we will have a good time, I’m sure she can find another ride, can’t you?” She looks at you like you’re going to be her wingman and take one for the team or something. Too bad you don’t feel like sharing. Even if he isn’t yours and probably never will be. He’s not going to rub it in your face at your place of work.
“Actually, my ride fell through.” You cross your arms to push your tits up and set your lips into a pout. Rafe feels like he’s going to fucking lose it any second. You never ask him for help, so he knows you're jealous and it’s making his cock uncomfortably hard. “I can probably swing an uber if you’re busy though.”
“No. I’m taking you home with me.” With him. You like the sound of that. “Go do your stuff. I’ll wait.”
“I know what you were doing in there, I’ve been around the block a few times, little girl.” Rafe grits at you as pulls out of the bar parking lot. He waited for you to get off. Hollis left before he did, not without asking him to go home with her again, of course.
“And I know what you were doing in there, old man. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m oblivious.” You roll your eyes and put your doc’s up on his dash. It makes him groan as he reaches over to knock them back down. “Umm, rude.”
“I’m rude? And ruining my date isn’t?” Rafe scoffs.
“Oh, don’t play dumb. You didn’t want to be on that date and we both fucking know it, Rafe.” You roll your eyes and shake your head and Rafe really wishes he wasn’t driving right now so he could finally spank that attitude out of you. He has half a mind to pull over but he has to keep reminding himself you’re not his. “You would have never gone there if I didn’t work there, don’t act like that wasn’t why. Don’t pretend you didn’t want to see my reaction.”
“She asked to go there, you’re just overthinking it.” Rafe shakes his head as he turns onto the main road toward his neighborhood.
“No. If I was overthinking it, you would’ve left with her and not me. Don’t try to make me feel like I’m making shit up in my head, you were blindingly obvious about it.” His big hands tighten on the steering wheel causing the veins to pop out. You want to slobber all over them and feel them inside you. “You were trying to make me jealous and it worked, so what now?”
“Now? Nothing.” Rafe chuckles dryly and you can see his jaw tense. “We go home, you go to bed and I’ll do the same. Nothing can happen and you know that.”
“But you aren’t saying you don’t want it to.” You press the issue, you aren’t letting it go that easily.
“God damn it.” Rafe breathes out through his nose and says your name sternly. “Stop. Just stop. This can’t be a thing. No more of this shit that happened tonight. We go back to coexisting the way we should and if I want to go on dates you’re just going to have to get over that because you are my son’s fucking girlfriend, jesus.”
“Yeah, whatever, tell yourself that all you want.” You lean back in your seat with your arms crossed, turning away from him to look out the window. “You know it’s more than that but go ahead and keep lying to yourself.”
“It’s what I have to do, okay?!” Rafe snaps and slams his hand on the steering wheel before regaining his control. He runs his hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath. He isn’t the guy that loses his temper at the drop of a hat anymore but you’re so god damn frustrating it makes him feel like he’s going insane. “Now please, just let it go.”
“Fine. But I know you feel this thing between us.” You laugh dryly, your throat feeling tight from rejection even if you know you’re right. “But I’ll drop it and let you live in your little land of denial.”
“Thank you.” Rafe sighs and you both fall silent for the remainder of the drive, only the sound of the local rock station playing quietly in the background.
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You curse under your breath as you toss your keys down on the table by the door and rip your coat from your body. All the other times Caleb has forgotten to pick you up were just mildly annoying in comparison to this. Considering it’s your fucking birthday. You don’t think he even remembers. He didn’t say anything to you this morning before you left for your day shift and he hasn’t texted you all day. He did say he would pick you when you managed to momentarily wake him up though. You hoped maybe he had a surprise planned for you when you got off but you aren’t even sure why you let the thought cross your mind. It feels like he doesn’t even care about you anymore.
As much as Rafe wants to deny that there’s something between you, he gives you more attention than your own boyfriend. Caleb was out all night, so, was he passed out hungover this morning. But when you went downstairs there were doughnuts and coffee from your favorite bakery sitting on the kitchen counter. There was a pink balloon tied to the coffee and a little note in front of it that read “Happy Birthday, angel. -R.C.”
Rafe was already gone for work when you woke up so you haven’t had a chance to thank him yet. You hate that you’re more excited for him to be home than you are to see Caleb. You know he’s here somewhere because his car is out front, you assume he’s upstairs gaming with his headset on and his phone on silent. Or he’s asleep. You sigh deeply as you walk over to the box of doughnuts still sitting on the counter and pull one from the box. You take a bite before looking out the kitchen window and when you do you nearly choke.
Caleb isn’t gaming, and he’s not asleep. But he is out back in the hot tub with his “friend” Jessica. Ass naked. Fucking her from behind with her top half bent over the ledge. You feel like you’re going to be sick as you watch her mouth fall open in pleasure. Caleb pulls her hair, yanking her head back before you watch him land a smack on her ass as he fucks her roughly from behind. He’s never fucked you like that. It was always so vanilla and lackluster. Watching him fuck her like you’ve asked him to fuck you a thousand times is like a knife to your heart. Tears prickle the rims of your eyes But you don’t want to cry because you’re sad, no, you’re fucking pissed. You slam your hand down on the counter in frustration, crushing the glazed treat you’re still holding against the marble. You take a deep breath, readying yourself, and then you walk out the back door.
“Well, isn’t this just fucking rich.” You chuckle dryly as you walk across the back patio to the hot tub and Caleb and Jessica’s eyes flash toward you, their movements halting. “You know, you’ve gotten me some pretty shit presents over the years, Caleb. But being so balls deep in some other bitch that you forget my birthday entirely really takes the fucking cake.”
“Babe!” Caleb backs away from Jessica with his eyes blown wide, pulling out of her and leaving her to stand there trying to cover herself. “It’s not -”
“It’s not what it looks like, really Caleb?” You scoff and you can’t even help but laugh. “You’re a fucking idiot. There’s no talking your way out of being a cheating fucking whore when I saw it with my own two eyes.”
“Hey! Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t -” Jessica’s voice is strained and nervous as she pulls herself from the hot tub and reaches for her clothes that are discarded on the ground.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch. You know exactly what you did. Everyone in your little friend group knows me and Caleb are together. Don’t disrespect me by lying to my face.”
You take a few hurried steps towards her and she flinches, making a smirk spread across your lips. Good. She should be scared. She’s lucky Caleb isn’t worth an assault charge. You send your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend a glare. “How long?”
“Since the ski trip…” His head hangs low between his shoulders and you can’t believe he has the audacity to be pouting right now. But he’s always been selfish.
“Oh? So this has been going on for weeks? And I bet all your little friends knew, huh?” Caleb opens his mouth to answer but you cut him off. “Were you all just sitting around laughing, knowing I was oblivious? You disgust me.”
“Babe -”
“I’m not your fucking babe! Shut up! I’m tired of hearing your god damn voice, Caleb!” You shriek and stomp your foot in frustration.
“Whoa, what the hell is going on out here?” The sound of Rafe’s voice sends an icy hot chill all through your body. God, how much of that did he see?
“Dad, don’t worry about it. Just go inside, this is none of your business.” Rafe loves his son with all his heart and even if Caleb doesn’t realize it, everything he’s done in his life has been for him. But right now? He has never been more disappointed in his entire life.
Rafe didn’t see everything but he got home around the time you were calling Caleb a cheating whore. That combined with the fact that there was a random girl scrambling to put her clothes on while his son stands naked in the hot tub doesn’t make it hard to tell what is happening.
“There’s yelling going on in my house, I think that’s my business.” Rafe is almost at a loss for words. He feels frozen. He would never abandon Caleb but the fact that he did this to you fills him with rage. The fact that he took you for granted was one thing, but cheating on you? It makes his blood boil. If it were anyone else they’d be getting their ass beat right now.
“I think I’m just going to go.” All three of their heads whip towards you at your words. Rafe looks distressed, Jessica looks guilty as hell and Caleb has a mixture of both painted on his face.
“No, you stay. I’ll feel like shit knowing you’re sleeping on your sister's couch when you’ve been pulling my weight around here anyways.” Caleb pulls himself out of the hot tub and pulls his swim trunks on before walking toward you. It makes you take a step back.
“You can stay with me, if you need.” Jessica squeaks out and it makes you belly laugh. You really are such a fucking joke.
“You don’t have to leave, either of you. We can work something out.” Rafe looks over at his son, so fucking disappointed in him but he doesn’t love him any less and he doesn’t want him to leave. But he really doesn’t want you to leave either, he’s really come to love you. Well, he loves having you around. He doesn’t love you, he can’t. But god the longer he’s around you he wants to love you so badly. Especially right now, he can see you shaking from here. He can see the angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes and he hates it. He wants to grab you, pull you into his chest, and protect you from the world.
“I won’t force her to be around me after this, dad.” Caleb sighs as he pinches his nose before locking eyes with you. “Just stay here, okay? I want you to stay where you have space. You seem happier here. I’m going to go get some stuff to get me through a couple days and I’ll come back for the rest later on. Come on Jessica, we’re leaving.”
“Listen, I’m really sorry I never meant for you to find out like this.” Jessica sends you an apologetic look.
“Ha! I don’t give a fuck about your apology, bitch. Get out of my sight before I beat your ass.” You take a threatening step toward her and she hurriedly runs toward the back door with Caleb in tow. He sends you another sad glance before walking inside, leaving you alone with Rafe.
“God, what the fuck just happened!?” You let out an aggressive deep breath as you flop down on one of the patio chairs. You groan and throw your head back, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“Are you okay?” The sound of Rafe’s voice inches from you makes you jump as your eyes shoot toward him. He’s crouching in front of the chair with a concerned look on his face and god, you want to jump into his lap and have him hold you so badly. Even when Caleb literally cheats on you, you can’t get these thoughts of Rafe out of your head. If anything they’re just increasing by the second.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You should go check on Caleb, tell him he doesn’t have to go.” You clear your throat to stop the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Once I calm down a bit I’ll go get my shit together and get out of your hair.”
“No.” Rafe’s voice is stern but not angry and your entire body heats when he rests his big hands on your knees so you’ll look at him. “I don’t want you to leave. I love my son so damn much but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed in him right now. I’ll never force him to leave but if he wants to go, I think maybe it’s for the best right now.”
“Yeah, but even if he leaves there’s no reason for me to be here if he and I aren’t together, Rafe.” You sniffle, wiping your nose and under your eyes with your hoodie sleeve. You refuse to let him see you cry.
“There is a reason, doll.” Rafe squeezes your knees slightly in a comforting manner as he looks up at you so sincerely you could almost melt. “I want you here. I like having you here. Not just because you help out around the house or because you make delicious food. I like you, I like your presence and being around you. I don’t like to talk much, I can’t stand small talk, but it comes easy with you.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Rafe. You have no obligation to me, I can’t just freeload off of you.” You sigh and Rafe can’t help it, he glances toward the house to see if Caleb is looking but the blinds are closed so he leans up on his knees and takes your face in his hands.
“I know I’m not fuckin’ obligated but I want to help you. I want you here, please?” Rafe’s voice breaks at the end and he hates that he sounds so desperate. But that desperation tells you all you need to know. He’s saying it without saying it. Rafe wants you. And now that Caleb gave you the ultimate fuck you, what’s really holding you back from having him aside from your own moral compass? He’s still Caleb’s dad. On the other hand though? Fuck Caleb and his feelings.
“Okay. I’ll stay.” Your voice is small and you swallow deeply as Rafe continues to hold your face in his big, calloused hands.
“That’s my girl.” Rafe grins at you and places a kiss on your forehead and for a second you forget who Caleb even is. He’s never touched you this much and now you never want him to stop. You want to feel his lips and hands on every inch of your body. “Sit tight, okay? I’m gonna go make sure Caleb is okay and see if he needs any help.”
You sigh and look up at the sky. The sun is setting, kissing the tops of the trees as the cold midwinter wind whips through your hair. You’d probably be freezing in your little work outfit if you weren’t so filled with adrenaline. Are you really gonna stay here with Caleb’s dad? Especially when you know how badly you want him? You know the answer is yes, against your better judgement. You’ve tried to push your feelings down, tell yourself they were based on loneliness and circumstance. But the fact that you just watched Caleb cheat on you and you were more sad about the fact that you’ll have to move away from Rafe is very telling.
You want Rafe. You want his kind gestures. You want the banter you have when you order take ou and watch cheesy horror movies on nights you were left alone. You want the way his lips look extra plush and the way his mullet looks all messy when he first wakes up. You want the possessiveness and the protectiveness. You want to jump his bones when he gets home in his work clothes all covered in mud. You want to eat dinner and shower together and fuck before bed. You want him to fuck you on every inch of this house actually. You want him so bad you can’t even deny it anymore. You want him so bad it almost hurts.
You let yourself sit with that information until you hear the front door shut and Caleb’s car pull out of the driveway. You’re finally starting to get cold so you take a deep breath and push yourself up from the chair to face the music.
As you approach the back door you realize the lights in the kitchen are off, which is odd for this time of day. Did Rafe go to bed to avoid having to interact with you? You wouldn’t blame him, part of you wants the same. You just want to sink in bed and sleep for a week. But when you open the door your hand flies to your mouth with a gasp.
The room is illuminated by candles that are lit on top of the prettiest cake. It’s shaped like a heart with pink and white frosting and your name is in the middle of it, written in pretty, frosted cursive. If that wasn’t enough there’s a little box with a bow sitting next to it and the greatest present of all is the man standing behind them. Rafe still has his navy work shirt with the logo for his company on and he has this lopsided, boyish smile painted on his face that makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. This man is a dream.
“Rafe, I- you did this for me?” Your words nearly get caught in your throat and tears prickle your eyes for an entirely different reason than they have all night. “No one has ever… No one’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”
“I know. That’s why I did it.” Rafe smiles at you sweetly as he scratches the side of his neck before running his hands through his hair. “Don’t go getting all teary eyed on me before you even open your gift, angel.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything…” Your voice is barely a whisper and you hardly trust it as you approach the counter and pick up the little box. At first glance you’d think it was jewelry but when you pull off the bow and open it up there’s a keyfob inside. “What is? Rafe, you did not buy me a car!”
“No, yeah, I did.” Rafe chuckles and comes around the other side of the counter to stand no more than a foot away from you. “You deserve it.”
“Rafe, I can’t accept this. You have to take it back.” You push the box toward him but he just stops your hand, pushing it back toward your chest.
“Well, I’m not taking it back. So if you don’t drive it, it’s just going to sit in the garage collecting dust.” He splays his hand across your chest, holding the key and your hand in his larger one as he looks down at you almost lovingly. It fills your heart with hope you’ve been refusing to let in. Rafe tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your temple. “Let me do this for you.”
You can’t help it, you throw yourself into his arms with a squeal and he catches you easily with an arm around your waist. You’re tired of denying yourself his touch, it is your birthday, after all. Rafe chuckles and squeezes you to his chest before setting you on your feet in front of the cake.
“Make a wish, birthday girl.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his chin against your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world and you know exactly what you’re going to wish for. More of this. More of him. For as long as he will have you. You lean forward and blow out the candles before letting your body rest against Rafe’s with your head tilted back so you can look up at him. “What did you wish for?”
“Can’t tell you, it won’t come true.” You giggle and spin around in his arms and he takes your face in his hands. Rafe thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and he can’t pretend he doesn’t anymore. He needs you. He wants to kiss you so bad and you surprise the hell out of him by throwing your arms around his shoulders and smashing your lips against his own.
The kiss starts off tender, almost nervous. But it quickly turns heated when his big hands grip onto your waist and pull you flush against him. He groans against your mouth and you use it as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and tangle it with his. You stand there making out, your hands wandering any part of each other they can reach. Rafe’s hands slip lower and slide just under the bottom hem of your skirt, grazing your ass. You
bite down on his bottom lip and Rafe pulls back to look down at you.
“Fuck, we really shouldn’t…” Rafe breathes out through his nose and bites his lip, his actions contradicting his words because his hands travel higher up your skirt and grip onto your ass possessively.
“Do you care?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you grind your stomach against his rock hard cock and scratch the back of his neck with your pointed nails.
“Fuck, not anymore.” Rafe loops his arms around your thighs and you jump up so he can carry you to the couch. He tosses you over the arm and gets on the couch behind you with his legs bracketing yours. He leans over your body so his lips are brushing the shell of your ear. “The first time I fuck you is gonna be in my bed but I’ve been waiting so long to spank that bratty ass and eat that sweet little pussy I need to do it right fucking here.”
Rafe leans back and pushes your little Jean mini skirt up over your ass to reveal the tiniest little pink thong he’s ever seen. He lands a harsh smack on your ass and it causes you to yelp and jolt forward. He gives the other the cheek the same treatment before bringing his hands down on both at once.
“So fucking perfect. Knew you would be, baby.” Rafe runs his fingers over your slit through the lace of your panties, feeling your sticky wetness. “And so fucking wet.”
He gathers some on his fingers before pulling away and marveling at the way it glistens in the low light. He hooks his arm around your neck and holds his fingers to your lips. “Suck.”
You take them into your mouth and swirl your tongue around them, tasting yourself mixed with Rafe’s salty sweat. It shouldn’t taste as good as it does but it makes you hum around his fingers as your eyes roll back.
“Been thinkin’ bout this all day, everyday, since you moved into this house, angel. You’ve been thinking about it too, haven’t you?” Rafe shoves his fingers down your throat causing you to gag as drool pools into your mouth before he pulls them out and spanks your ass with his wet hand, causing it to sting extra.
“Yes, daddy. Everyday. Want you so bad.” You arch your back and wiggle your ass and Rafe feels like he’s going to bust in his pants like a thirteen year old boy.
“Oh, baby, I don’t think you know what you just did.” Rafe chuckles as he grabs onto your thong and pulls it down to your knees, locking them in place. “You want me to be your daddy? Alright. But that means I get to beat this little ass red for the way you’ve been teasing me.”
“Yeah?” You glance over your shoulder at him with that mischievous look you always flash him in your eyes and a naughty little smirk painted on your lips. “Do you fucking worst, daddy.”
Rafe gives you that lopsided grin that makes your stomach do flips before spanking your ass hard. The skin immediately turns red and you don’t have time to process before he spanks you in the same exact spot even harder. He gives the other cheek the same treatment and then rotates back.
“That’s my good little girl.” Rafe rubs your reddened ass and then spanks you again and again. “Not such a brat now, huh? Just needed that attitude beat out of you?”
“I don’t know, I think you might have to fuck it out of me.” You giggle and wiggle your sore ass which only earns you another round of spankings, leaving you a moaning mess. He leans down and bites down hard on your asscheek as two fingers slide through your dripping folds.
“Don’t worry, doll. I’m gonna give you the best dick of your fucking life. But first, I’ve gotta taste this god damn pussy.” Rafe admires the growing bruises and the bite mark on your plump ass before grabbing your cheeks and spreading you open so he can run his tongue along your slit to your pulsing clit.
He swirls his tongue around it a few times before sliding it back down and thrusting it into your hole. Rafe flicks his tongue inside you and hooks his arm around your thigh so you can’t wiggle away.
“Oh, fuck! God, yes, daddy.” You whine and grind back into his face and when his thumb finds your clit you’re embarrassingly close. Your body subconsciously tries to run away from the mind blowing pleasure but Rafe only brings his free hand to the small of your back and uses it to pin your upper half down.
“Quit wiggling and let me devour this pussy, brat. Be a good girl and stay still for daddy, yeah?” Rafe mumbles against your pussy, the vibrations sending your eyes to the back of your skull. “Need you to cum for me, baby.”
Rafe unhooks his arm from your leg so he can thrust two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy while his lips latch onto your clit. He curls his fingers against your sweet spot and rolls his lips around your aching bud and that’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. Pleasure wracks your entire body as you shake beneath him. He sucks and fingers you through your orgasm until you’re over sensitive and your top half is limp with your arms dangling off the arm of the couch.
Rafe leans back to admire you and his cock feels like it’s going to burst. Your hair is cascading over your face as you lay limp across the couch with your ass arched in the air. Your crop top is pushed up showing off the curve of your back. Your butt is red and covered in his hand prints and the bite mark is already starting to bruise. Your little skirt is framing your hips perfectly and your pussy is all puffy and dripping creamy, white.
“I know I said I’d take you to the bed, baby girl, but this pussy just looks so god damn irresistible I’ve gotta have her right now.” You hear the metal of his belt clanking and the sound of his zipper before you feel the fat head of his cock slapping against your ass. He grips his shaft as he runs his tip through your dripping folds and then he uses your wetness to lube his cock. Rafe pumps himself a few times before lining up with your entrance and pushing inside you in one, unforgiving thrust. You both moan in unison as he bottoms out, his balls grazing your clit.
“Oh my god, I’m so full.” You whine as your walls clench around him and Rafe pulls his hips back until only his tip remains before slamming his cock back into you and starting up at a brutal pace. He grips onto your hips and fucks you like a man possessed. He’s entranced by the sight of your ass bouncing back against him while your creamy pussy coats his cock as it swallows him whole over and over again.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby. This pussy is so perfect, fuck, even better than I ever could’ve imagined.” One of Rafe’s hands grips onto your throat and pulls you up so your back is flush against his front and the new angle pushes him even deeper inside you, making your pussy flutter around his cock. He grabs your hand with his free one and presses it against our belly where you can feel his cock bulging from inside you. “Feel that? You’re so fuckin’ full of me.”
“Yes, daddy, you’re so fucking big.” You gasp when he slams his hips up into yours so hard the sound echos off the walls and then he pulls almost all the way out and does it again and again, fucking you rough and deep. Rafe squeezes your neck as he pushes up your crop top so he can grope your tits and pinch your pierced nipples.
“Oh, Angel, I’ve just been dying to see these. The way you prance around in those little bikinis has been driving me insane. Let daddy see those pretty tits.” He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. He grips onto your hips and flips you over so you’re straddling him.
Rafe leans back on the couch and runs his hands down your body before tracing up your stomach so he can graze his fingertips over your pert nipples. He circles the little bars that have hearts in the middle with a groan.
“Oh, fuckin’ look at you. Never seen anything more god damn perfect in my life.” Rafe leans forward to take a nipple in his mouth and it makes you cry out.
“In all your years, right, old man?” You giggle when he pulls back with a glare and grips onto your hip so he can lift you onto his cock, the feeling of him filling you again makes you nearly go cross eyed. “You getting tired yet?”
“I thought I fucked that little attitude out of you, huh?” Rafe plants his feet flat on the ground so he can thrust up into you while using his grip on your ass to bounce you on his cock. The sight of your tits in his face has him twitching inside you.
“I think it’s gonna take more than once, actually?” You smirk up at him and Rafe is fucking gone. He’s obsessed with you. “Can your old man knees keep up?”
“Baby, it’s so cute that you think I can’t keep up with you.” Rafe flips you onto your back and grips onto the back of your thighs as he kneels on the couch in front of you so he can pound into you harder and deeper than ever. “Rub your pussy for me.”
“Fuck, daddy, I’m so close.” You moan loudly as you bring your finger to your slick clit and rub circles on it. Rafe grips onto your throat and pins you to the couch cushion as he continues to plow into you. “Want you to fill me up, please?”
“Yeah? I’ll give you my cum as soon as you give me one more. Cum for daddy, sugar.” Rafe squeezes your throat as his dick hits your g-spot and your fingers rub your clit just right and it has euphoria washing over your body. Your pussy is like a vice grip around him and the pretty little moans you’re letting out as you come undone for him has Rafe spilling inside you. He doesn’t know if he’s ever cum this much in his life as his cock continues to pulse inside you and fill you with ropes of his cum. You lay pliant beneath him as you look up at him like he hung the stars and it fills him with pride, “Yeah, that’s my good little girl.”
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” You breathe out and saying it outloud feels like the biggest weight off your shoulders. “I’ve wanted you so fucking badly, Rafe.”
“God, baby.” Rafe grabs your face in his hands and runs his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so god damn I’m obsessed with you too. Now that I’ve had you, I never wanna let you go. I’m addicted.”
“Yeah? Well you never have to. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an attitude and tease you about your old man knees until the end of time.” You giggle when he throws you a playful glare and it makes a wide smile break out onto his face. “But who knows? Maybe I can be tamed one day, looks like you’ll just have to keep fucking me to find out…”
“I think I can manage that, angel, starting now.” Rafe leans down and kisses you sweetly before gripping onto your hips and standing up to throw you over his shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you on every inch of this house, starting with my bed.”
In that moment you think to yourself that maybe sometimes birthday wishes really do come true. You both know shit is complicated, but right now you don’t care. You finally have him, and you’ll figure it out together.
Tagging mooties: @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @sturnioloshacker @eddiesxangel @that-sarcastic-writer @rafesangelita @nemesyaaa @moonlightseranade 🤍
If you made it this far, thanks for sticking around for all 13k words!! I put my blood, sweat, tears, pussy, heart, soul into this. I hope you enjoy ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Divider by @anitalenia
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Hii
Can i request friend with benefit! Sevika?×fem reader
Who realize along the way she's catching feelings and freaks out?
I love your writing a lot 😭🤟❤️
thank u darling! for sure!
The past couple of months have been bliss, Sevika’s a nice stress reliever — and vice versa, you spent evenings and even weekends sometimes together, but you never wake up to a warm body next to you.
It’s sad, and a bit pathetic actually. That feeling, that stubborn pit in your stomach that cannot be fulfilled without her, knowing she doesn’t want you, doesn’t care when she leaves.
What you aren’t aware of, is that she does. She contemplates staying, but never gives into to those rotten sensations. You’re a guilty pleasure to indulge in when needed, nothing more. That’s the kind of dialogue being said in her head.
It’s fine, everything’s fine, until she pulls away. It starts simple, taking longer to respond to messages, excuses being thrown at you, you have no reason not to believe them. That is until: Ran, your mutual friend, informs you of Sevika’s late night presence at the Last Drop, nights she usually spent with you spent nursing on amber liquid instead.
Sevika’s scared. She’s scared of the feelings she shares for you — she’s trying to convince herself that she doesn’t care, that’s it’s casual, that she won’t call you when she’s had a few, but it’s all a lie. Goddamn it, you don’t crave a ‘friend’. She knows that hangouts shouldn’t turn into hookups, she can’t help it. She hates the lack of control she has over her heart.
In her head; she’s screaming at herself. ‘You’re hurting her’, ‘You don’t deserve her’, & questions, ‘What is this?’ ‘How do I tell her that I dream about her more than I sleep?’
She tells you after you confront her about it. She’s drunk, a cigar hanging from her mouth as you scold her. You know your feelings, and you think you know how she feels, but you don’t. When she puts out her cigar and presses a bruising kiss to your soft lips, everything you’ve known shatters. Proven when she stays the next day, making you breakfast and hesitantly wrapping her hands around your waist like a lover would. Yeah, this was right.
#arcane#arcane season 2#sevika fluff#sevika x reader#sevika smut#sevika#sevika angst#fwb#is it casual now?#peep the arctic monkey references#hehe
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Christmas Together
Summary: You share your first Christmas with Clark.
Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader
Warnings: shy reader, Christmas fluff, fluff, mentions of sex
Catch up here: Alone again - Naturally, Not alone any longer & Together alone
Six months after your last encounter with Lois, you feel—you can’t even describe how you feel. At least, not with a single word. Free. Happy. Valued. Desired. Loved.
The first time you made love, Clark was almost shy.
Both of you touch-starved, you spend hours with kisses and exploring each other’s bodies before he sinks into you. He was gentle yet passionate.
The moment you scratched his back and begged him to make you his, Clark became possessive. He didn’t stop until you came for a third time and passed out on him.
From that night on, you never slept without Clark by your side. When he asked you only three weeks later to move in with him, you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you belonged for the first time in your life.
Clark had this large farm, waiting for you to bring life to it. His mother moved away years back, too sad about the loss of her beloved husband.
It wasn’t too complicated for him to fly back to Metropolis in the blink of an eye to be on time for work. Your boss at the online magazine didn’t care where you were working from. A stable internet connection and your laptop were all you needed to keep your job.
In only a few months, you made a home out of the deserted place. A dog and a cat joined your and Clark’s life soon after you moved into the farmhouse.
Clark named the dog Krypto, and you named the cat Streaky. You chuckled at your choice, but you kind of liked that their names were extraordinary like your boyfriend's.
“Krypto, how about we go for a walk?” You call for your dog. You’re done with work this week. Clark is still in Metropolis, working on an important article. “We can decorate the house some more later. Clark wants to get the tree with us.”
Krypto barks at the cat before pouncing on you to lick your face. He jumps up at you, licking and kissing your face.
“Krypto, no,” you giggle and laugh. “We can cuddle later. You need to go for a walk. No more peeing into the kitchen.”
Krypto whines. Somehow, he understands that he did something wrong. “Aw, it’s alright. You are still a puppy. Let’s go outside before it gets colder again. We don’t want you to freeze, puppy.”
“Cold, cold,” you whine as your teeth shatter. Krypto ran off, and you had to chase him through the snow. Now you feel like a living popsicle and barely feel your feet and hands. “So cold…”
“Blossom?” You want to get up when you hear Clark enter the house, but you’re too cold. Wrapping the blanket tighter around your body, you snuggle with Krypto and Streaky in front of the fireplace in the living room. “Y/N, are you alright?”
A swoosh of air makes you shudder. You’re used to Clark appearing next to you out of nowhere. He looks at you and sits in front of the fireplace. “What happened?”
“Krypto ran, and I had to chase him. It’s cold outside,” you whine. “Really cold, Clarkie. We should never leave the house in winter.”
He laughs at your words but crouches down to kiss your cheek. “What about the tree we wanted to get?”
“Uh—it’s so cold,” you murmur. “Can we not get it later? Much later. After we had hot tea and an even hotter bath?”
“How about you wear your warmest clothes and watch me get one from the front porch? It won’t take me long, and we can decorate it tomorrow. Together.”
Reluctantly, you get up. Before you can protest, you are in his arms, and his lips are on yours. “Hey there, Blossom.” He purrs against your lips before running upstairs with you. You giggle the whole way. “How was your day?”
“It was good,” you cup his face and kiss him again. “So, which tree do you want to get? Will you simply fly to Metropolis and buy one?”
“It’s a surprise,” he pecks your lips before putting you back on your feet. “Get dressed, and don’t forget the scarf and hand gloves. I want you to watch me.”
“Clark—what?” You gasp loudly. It’s nothing new to you that Clark is fast, strong, and can fly. But he just ripped a huge tree out of the ground. He flies toward you, the tree in his arms, as you cannot fathom that this man wants to be your boyfriend.
“I promised you the largest and most beautiful tree.” He gracefully lands on the front porch to show you the tree.
“Clark, there are roots on it,” you laugh while pointing at the roots. “We can’t put the tree up like this.”
“No problem.” He easily maneuvers the tree. Clark puts it on the ground as you watch him with curiosity. He uses his laser eye beam to cut the roots off, making you gasp. His powers are even more impressive up close. “All good. Now we can put it up.”
“It’s so pretty.” You jump at Clark and wrap your arms around him. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
Clark nods against you. He feels the same. It’s going to be the best Christmas because he can spend it with you and the secret you’re carrying under your heart. The one you do not know about yet…
#clark kent#clark kent x reader#clark kent x you#clark kent x y/n#shy reader#Christmas Together#clark x reader#x reader
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hey is it possible for you to write rockstar eddie on a tour for two days and the reader has been touch starved and when he gets back readers really happy and they have um yk but it’s totally ok if you don’t feel comfortable doing this love you work btwww your so talented 💖💖💖
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it)
It's been months since you've seen Eddie. Since he's been on tour and you've been working, you've haven't had any time to go to one of his shows that was close by or even talk on the phone.
And not seeing him for such a long period of time has led to you being touch starved. You haven't been able to stop thinking about having his hands on you the second you reunite. He's due to be home any minute and you can't wait to see him, to feel his hands on you, to hold him in your arms.
Eddie's been counting down the minutes from the second he woke up. He's constantly been checking his watch since he knows the exact time he's supposed to be home. He just wants to be with his girl and every second that passes that he can't hold you in his arms is another minute he'll spend checking the time.
You hear the front door open and Eddie steps through it, pushing his suitcase aside as he opens his arms wide for you. You jump into them and wrap your legs around his waist as you bury your face into his neck. Eddie holds you tight, one of his hands moving up and down your back as the other holds onto you.
You pull away and stare at him, those pretty, brown eyes that you always love to look into, that hair you love to run your fingers through, to grab onto when he-
"I missed you, baby," he whispers as he leans close, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.
"I missed you too," you mumble against his lips. "So much." You don't even have to tell him that but he loves to hear the words, the loving way you say them.
He kisses you again, this time slotting his lips between yours. It's slow and sweet at first but before you know it, Eddie's tongue is in your mouth and he's setting you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs.
"Need your touch. Need your cock," you tell him. "Wanna feel you."
His hands travel down your sweatpants, pushing them down your legs then tossing them somewhere behind him, followed by your panties. Once they're discarded, he removes his own, precum already leaking from his cock that he slides into you as he spreads your legs wide.
"So tight, baby," he groans as he pushes inside you, his hands digging into your hips as he does so. "Didn't take care of yourself while I was gone?" The question is genuine, not mocking like it may seem.
"I couldn't," you tell him between labored breaths as you buck your hips against his. "It just made me think of you and then I got sad."
"You missed me," he says knowingly. "But I bet you missed my cock even more." Eddie slides all of himself inside you and you moan loudly, bucking your hips again, clenching around him as you do so.
"Fuck," you whine as your back arches. "Touch me," you beg. "Please."
He pumps even harder, your moans getting even louder. His hand reaches up your shirt and cups your breast, giving it a squeeze as his lips find yours in a hot kiss, his tongue taking no time to slide into your mouth.
You moan into his mouth as his thumb moves to your nipple, massaging it. His other hand continues to dig into your hip, pulling you even closer and your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking at his back.
His pumps continue and you already feel spent having not done this in months. But it's the best you've felt in so long so you don't dare tell him to stop even though you're close to throwing in the towel.
"See?" He asks as he looks down at where the two of you are connected, his his other hand moving to massage your other nipple. "We've still got it. I'm gonna fuck you on every single surface of this apartment until you can't walk. And then I'm going to carry you to bed where we're going to sleep until the afternoon and them I'm gonna do it all again to show you just how much I missed you."
"Yes, please," you moan as he picks you up, his hands grabbing your ass as he carries you to the couch, setting you down on it before lying on top of you, pumping his cock in and out, in and out as you beg for more, scratching up and down his back in response to how good he's making you feel.
"Just like that," you whine, bucking your hips against his again and again, your nails digging into his back, leaving crescent shapes anywhere you can. You're close, you can feel it.
Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you have the best orgasm of your life, Eddie encouraging you as you do, and once you've come down, you push him so he's the one with his back against the couch, fully intent of riding him until he has an orgasm of his own.
And Eddie fulfills his promise of fucking you on every piece of furniture in the apartment, making you come over and over and he does carry you to bed afterwards where he puts you in one of his t-shirts before pulling you to his chest where you fall asleep soundly, knowing that you have your man back in your arms.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#rockstar!eddie#rockstar!eddie munson
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Quiet morning together - Jax x Reader
CW(s): suggestive talk, indirect implications towards the two of you being nude but left up to your decision, same goes for any hanky panky the night before, soft fluff A/N: I want to write so many things after these latest episodes but nothing has sparked in my mind and I'm sad... so have this random soft moment together that I've forced myself to write to try and get the creative juices flowing. (I haven't written in so long, I'm so rusty...)
Neither of you has ever been a morning person but unlike a certain someone. You can push through it and get yourself out of bed in a timely fashion.
Except today.
Today is one of those days… Jax’s arms wrapped snugly around you, barely giving you an ounce of space to yourself as his long leg is draped over yours, keeping you trapped in bed. The soft fur from his face tickled your neck as he nuzzled closer, burying his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. One of his ears flopped over your face like an eye mask.
You don’t have the energy to say anything, nor do you make any attempts to move even if your arm is falling asleep under his lithe form laying on it. This scene has happened enough times for you to know that Jax is awake and doing this on purpose to keep you in bed with him—luckily for him, you have nowhere to be today and no rush to get out of bed.
Despite the tingling in your arm that he’s lying on, you raise your hand far enough to brush your fingers over the nape of his neck. The warmth of his soft fur radiating against your fingertips, it’s something you still don’t understand but you’ve learned not to question it by this point.
A quiet purr makes its way out of Jax as you run your fingers through his fur, your fingers knowing just where to scratch to relax him. And of course, in good Jax fashion, he can’t let you get the one up on him. Jax tightens his hold around your body, pulling you impossibly close like he’s trying to fuse the two of you, and presses the weight of his body halfway onto you.
You let out a quiet grunt at his weight and tangled your fingers in the fur of his nape, giving a brief tug. “Jax…” There’s no venom to your words if anything, his name is just a sigh on your lips and Jax greedily soaks up his name from your mouth.
Jax mumbles your name in response, a soft breathy yawn leaving him right after as he affectionately nuzzles his forehead close to your ear. The leg draped over yours shifts, his calf and ankle hooking around your legs to pull them closer and tangle between his legs.
“How long do you plan on keeping us in bed, cottontail?” You can feel where Jax’s nose would be scrunched up against your skin. Despite his protests of the nickname you can’t help but feel he’s come to like it—at least from you.
The lithe rabbit man lets out a pathetic, dramatic whine right into your ear before responding. “C’mon… who cares if we waste the whole day here? Oh right,” he pauses and feigns a panicked tone. “We’ll miss work! Can’t have a cut in our paycheck, how will we ever survive?!”
Even if he can’t see it, you roll your eyes and pinch his ear. A soft yelp leaves him as he brushes your hand away from his ear and finally looks at you with his usual shit-eating grin. “Oh, right. We don’t need that here.”
His tone is soft and playful, but you can hear the underlying sadness in his voice. You reach up with your free hand and pet the fur on his face in different directions, letting you see his full, unobstructed face—shit-eating grin and all.
Jax lets out a soft hum, accompanied by a faint purr as you brush his fur in place. “Look at that, personal grooming and I didn’t even have to request it.”
His tone was smug as you finished grooming his face, your hand lingered on his cheek as a grin made its way to your lips. “You know most animals only let others that they are close to or trust a lot to groom them.” Jax goes stiff in your hold, refusing you meet your eyes. “So it’s good to know this little bunny trusts me so much to groom him.”
He lets out a soft snort and shoves his face into your chest, rubbing his face left and right as you laugh, chest rising and falling as he tries to undo all your hard work.
“Hey! Now I have to do that all over again, brat.”
You push his head away and manage to slip your arm out from under him, using both hands to keep his head still as you redo all of that hard work brushing his fur neatly.
“Oh, boo hoo.” He says sarcastically, though this time he doesn’t try to stop or impede on your mission of fixing his fur.
At some point the two of you shifted, your hands brushing through the fur of his face to working on the rest of his head and down to his neck and upper chest, taking care of any miraculous tangles that formed through the night. Jax now lies on his side, head propped up with his hand as he stares at you focusing so intently on the fur of his chest. Several dirty jokes bounced around his head but he kept his mouth shut—for once—and simply relaxed under your touch.
Your legs were still tangled with his as you moved alongside him to lay on your side, the blanket slipping down to your hips as you worked. His hand eventually found a home on your hip, keeping the blanket from slipping further but also keeping you in place close to him.
“Any lower and that’s gonna be a whole new “waking up”, toots.”
You don’t have to look at him to know he’s got that smug grin on his face and give the fur on his chest a sudden sharp tug. He hisses and reaches a hand up to pull yours from his chest and holds it. “Ouch, not so rough in the morning.”
“That’s not what you’ve said before.” You grumble softly, already tired of his shenanigans and the two of you haven’t even gotten out of bed.
Jax lets out a musical hum in response as he pulls the two of you closer and guides your head to his rest on his chest. “Touché.”
The two of you lay like that for god knows how long, simply basking in the artificial warmth of one another, your head slowly bobbing against his chest with every unnecessary breath.
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Rivalry and Reverie- Ollie Bearman X driver girlfriend
*WARNINGS*- Smut, fluff, MINORS DNI
Last year Ollie Bearman was crowned formula 2 champion, this was a life changing achievement for him not just because it was his dream but because it lead him to her, Y/N L/N the girl of his dreams. At first ollie thought that it would never work between them, they were racing against each other how could it ever work between them, But boy was he wrong. A year had passed since they first got together, and everything between them was perfect. Everyday they fell more and more in love. they continued to race against each other and were both involved in a lengthy and violent title fight one that ended in Y/N winning the title and an offer to race for McLaren in the 2025 season Ollie was unbelievably proud of her but he also felt kind of sad that they wouldn't be racing against each other anymore. That was until ollie got offered to race for Haas this made him extremely happy, sure it wasn't as good as a team as McLaren of Ferrari but it was still formula one.
*fast forward to the first race of the formula one season*
Today was the day, the day that Ollie and Y/N would fulfil their life long dreams of racing in formula one, it was a few hours before the race and Y/N and Ollie were sitting sharing a meal together in McLaren hospitality. "so are you ready for me to beat your ass" Y/N asked, this blunt statement made ollie laugh and say "hey its not my fault you have a better car" Y/N laughed in response and said "Your right, but still". a little while later they were both in their separate team garages getting ready for the race ahead. they got into their cars started their engines and completed the formation lap. Ollie was starting from P6 and Y/N was starting from P3 They started the race and slowly Y/N was climbing her way to P1 and by the end of the race she had managed to keep that position winning her very first race in formula one. After the race
The roar of the crowd was deafening as Y/N crossed the finish line, her name lighting up the leaderboard in P1. She could barely believe it—her very first Formula 1 race, and she had won. Over the team radio, the cheers of her engineers filled her ears. "Y/N, you're incredible! P1 in your debut! What a way to start the season!"
Her grin stretched wide beneath her helmet as she waved to the crowd during the cooldown lap. Pulling into parc fermé, she jumped out of her car and was immediately swarmed by her team, celebrating the monumental victory.
Ollie had finished in a respectable P5, scoring solid points for Haas. He parked his car and climbed out, making his way toward Y/N. Despite his own result, all he could think about was how proud he was of her.
As Y/N completed her media duties and the podium ceremony, she caught sight of Ollie waiting near the McLaren garage. His arms were crossed, but the broad smile on his face gave away how happy he was. When she finally reached him, she barely had time to say a word before he scooped her up in a tight hug, spinning her around.
“You’re unbelievable,” Ollie said, his voice filled with awe. “P1 on your debut? That’s insane!”
Y/N laughed as Ollie set her back down on her feet, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement of the day. “I still can’t believe it,” she admitted. “It feels like I’m dreaming.”
“Well, if this is a dream, then I don’t want to wake up,” Ollie said, his gaze softening as he looked at her.
She smiled, squeezing his hand. “You did great too, Ollie. P5 in a Haas? That’s impressive. You’re going to be fighting at the top in no time.”
He chuckled, shrugging modestly. “We’ll see. But today isn’t about me—it’s your moment, and you deserve every bit of it.”
The rest of the evening passed in a whirlwind of celebrations. Y/N basked in the glow of her victory, surrounded by her team, fellow drivers, and the endless flash of cameras. But through it all, her eyes kept drifting back to Ollie. No matter how many people congratulated her, he was the one she wanted to share this moment with the most.
Later that night, after the festivities had finally wound down, Y/N and Ollie found themselves back at the hotel. The hallway was quiet, a stark contrast to the roaring crowds and bustling paddock they’d left behind.
Y/N unlocked the door to her room and stepped inside, kicking off her shoes with a sigh. “What a day,” she said, turning to face Ollie, who had followed her in.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his eyes fixed on her. “What a day,” he echoed, a small smile playing on his lips.
She walked over to him, her steps slow and deliberate. “Thank you for being there,” she said softly. “It means the world to me.”
Ollie reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Seeing you up there, standing on that podium… I’ve never been prouder.”
Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, the weight of his words settling over her. “You’re making it hard to focus on anything but you right now,” she whispered.
Ollie’s smile widened as he cupped her face in his hands. “Maybe that’s the point.”
She laughed softly, but the sound was quickly silenced as his lips met hers. The kiss was slow and deliberate, filled with the unspoken emotions that had been building all day. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, Ollie slowly walks them both backwards the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she lays on the bed and ollie lays on top of her, they continue to kiss passionately, then ollie breaks the kiss looks at Y/N and asks "Are you sure" Y/N nods and says "yes" ollie then kisses her again his hands slowly traveling down her body, eventually they find themselves in their underwear Y/N wearing a black and red lacy set one that looks very similar to ollies team colors Ollie notices this and says
Ollie paused for a moment, his eyes trailing over her with a soft smile. “Did you plan this?” he teased, running his fingers along the delicate lace of her bra.
Y/N bit her lip, a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe. You like it?”
“Like it? You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured, his voice husky. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers again, his touch tender yet electrifying.
Y/N's heart raced as Ollie's kisses traveled lower. He reached the edge of her lacy garment, his calloused fingers tracing the lace with a reverent touch. His voice was a rough whisper against her skin. "You’re so beautiful, you know that?"
Her breath hitched at his words, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. She met his gaze, her eyes dark with desire. Her fingers gently tugged at his own underwear, a silent invitation. "I want you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Those three little words hit Ollie like a freight train, igniting a fire within him. He had been holding back, trying to be considerate, but hearing her say those words was all the encouragement he needed. With a low growl, he claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, his hand tangling in her hair.
Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, both desperate to feel more of each other. He moved lower, his kisses now hot and hungry as his lips traveled down her chest, pausing briefly to pay attention to each curve and contour. She let out a soft moan, her hips arching towards him in response.
He continued his journey down her body, his hands roaming over her skin, tracing every dip and curve. When he finally reached the edge of her lacy underwear, he slowed his movements, his eyes meeting hers once more.
She bit her lip, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. "Please, Ollie," she whispered, her voice laced with need.
His own breathing was erratic now, his body taut with desire. The pleading tone of her voice was almost too much to bear. With one swift motion, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and slowly began to pull them down, his gaze never leaving hers.
As her underwear slipped off, he took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Her body was a canvas of smooth, supple skin, the lace of her bra the only piece of clothing remaining. He leaned down, his lips caressing her hip, his touch gentle yet possessive.
She shivered, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. Her hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white as she fought to keep herself grounded. He continued his path, leaving a trail of kisses along her inner thigh.
Her body ached for him, every fiber of her being crying out for more. "Ollie," she gasped, her voice thick with wanting, "Don't tease me. Please."
The plea in her voice was like music to his ears, and he couldn't resist any longer. He moved back up her body, positioning himself above her, his arms braced on either side of her head. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with want and need.
"Tell me what you want, love," he murmured, his voice rough.
Her eyes met his, her gaze just as intense as his. "You," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I want you, Ollie. All of you."
He didn’t need to hear anything more. With a low groan, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his body pressing down upon hers, their hips meeting in a perfect fit.
She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, her body molding to his. Their kisses grew more urgent, more intense, as their hands began to roam, exploring every inch of each other. Every touch, every caress stoked the fire burning between them, driving them closer and closer to the edge.
Ollie's hands tangled in her hair, his mouth never leaving hers, his tongue exploring every inch of her, claiming her as his own. His hips moved against hers in a slow, deliberate rhythm, their breathing ragged and uneven.
The room was filled with the sounds of their panting breaths and soft moans; the air thick with the electricity of their desire. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the muscles tense and ripple under her touch, while he traced kisses along her neck and collarbone, his lips hungry against her skin.
The heat between them was almost unbearable, the room filling with a thick, sultry air. They moved together, their bodies writhing against each other, seeking release from the mounting tension. She clutched him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin "Ollie im... im" Y/N stutters out before ollie says "Y/N Shhh.. i know me too" he says grunting as they both release he can feel her clenching around him as she moans his name
a few moments later after they've both taken a moment to cool down from the heat of the prior moments. they're lying next to each other in a comfortable silence their limbs intertwined, Ollie is the first to break the silence saying "I love you Y/N" he brushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear and she says "I love you too Ollie".
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