#like I want to get closer to it. but not in the way I’m supposed to

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

contents: fluff. established relationship. you always sleep better when you're with him. 600 wc.

It’s been long since darkness cloaked the firmament and Sylus is absorbed in the tranquil silence of his studies overlooking documents and official records. A common routine given his atypical profession in dealing with illegal weaponry and other business practices that caught his interest. His fingers idly tapping against the armrest come to a halt when faint footsteps reach his ears. The sound draws nearer and closer with each pace and the corner of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk while he waits in anticipation.

“Kitten, shouldn’t you be in bed where I had left you?” Sylus meets your heavy-lidded gaze and registers your appearance as a cashmere blanket wraps around your shoulders and your hair tousled from what seems to be troubled sleep. Despite his question, he beckons you with a gesture and you settle across his lap, your body turning in towards him to nuzzle your face into his neck with your arms coiling around him. He gently shifts your weight closer to him for a more secure hold and lays a sweet kiss on your head once your movement stills.

“You’re more comfy… way more comfy. I prefer this much more.” You hum and return his kiss by brushing your lips against his skin. He can feel you ease into him as he studies your adorable sleepy face and his heart swells with so much love and tenderness for you. He loves it when you seek him out even when you've spent the entire day together and still can't get enough of him.

“Is that so? I suppose I’m more comfortable than a bed, huh?” He strokes your hair, lulling you deeper into your drowsiness and you can only muster a noise of contentment. He wonders if he can emulate the same sense of comfort you provide him when he’s resting his head on your lap. The sweet and intimate sensation of your fingers caressing through his silver locks with the lingering scent of your perfume makes everything seem right in the world even if just brieftly. “You know I can’t work when you’re in my lap like this. I have too many distractions that way. You and the cute way you snore.”

You grunt softly. “I do not snore… do you really want me to leave?” You slowly unravel yourself from him with a small pout on your lower lip, and he softens with the realization that maybe he shouldn’t have teased you when you’re laced with sleep. You feel something warm against your forehead through your bleary eyes, and he can’t have his darling feeling unloved and unwanted by mistake and he intends to remedy that. His hand reaches up and moves your head back where it was moments ago and you are pliant under his touch.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. Stay here with me. I promise you won’t get in the way.” Sylus cooes you gently, his hand smooths along your back and he rests his cheek against your hair as he savors the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you, sweet kitten. Sleep now. I’ll hold you until you do.” You murmur you love him back and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence and the steady rhythm of your breathing as your consciousness begins to drift.

Sylus gazes down at you with a fond and affectionate expression, whispering quiet reassurances that he hopes will reach you in your dreams. He resumes skimming through the paperwork he was doing before, his actions slower and deliberate so as not to wake you. Although his focus has shifted, he enjoys having you here with him like this and he could certainly get used to it.

[chastiefoul]

waking them up with kisses

ft. nanami, gojo, sukuna, toji short, fluff, light-hearted. honestly such a word-vomit, written while i was half asleep. but hey hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! slightly suggestive on gojo

nanami

there’s a slight smile on his face by the third time your lips made contact with his skin, yet he showed no of being awake to you, who’s still oblivious to his subtle change of expression as you kept peppering soft kisses across his cheekbone. finally a low chuckle escaped him, he just couldn’t help it. “good morning to you too, my love,” he muttered, pulling you who’s still in his arms closer. the warmth of your body as he embraced you sent an unexplainable ticklish feeling to his stomach.

“seriously, it took so many kisses to wake you up,” you said lightly, brushing the strand of his blond hair. such a weird sensation, to be this giddy right after you woke up, but it’s one nanami welcomed so openly. “hmm, i might need even more to be fully awake,” he replied with a teasing smile, closing his eyes. you felt his leg tangling with yours, there wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t touching yours. like a cat snuggling for warmth.

your hand couldn’t keep itself still, moving from his hair to his cheek. running along your thumb gently across his lashes, and the man suddenly fluttered them open. there wasn’t anything except love as he gazed at you so softly, grabbing your hand as he planted a kiss on your palm. all of it just felt so right, and you couldn’t help but wish that time ticked slower in small moments like this.

gojo

a big grin made its way to his face almost immediately when you started showering the man with kisses. his hair messy from sleep as he lied down, surrendering himself to your attacks; he laughed genuinely, the beautiful sound made you more determined. the mere expression of him being that happy brought you the same if not more amount of joy.

when you finally pulled away there’s a satisfied smile on his face as he opened his eyes. “best morning ever,” he said, pulling you close to his chest, forcing you to rest your head there as you listened to his steady heartbeat. “that’s what you said last time too when i woke you up with a head,” you bantered, there’s a lightness in your chest. he chuckled once more.

“well every morning i start by seeing your face is the best one baby, couldn’t help it,” he muttered, very lightly pinching your cheek as he said this. he then raised your chin with a finger, making you look up at him as he kissed your lips sweetly, moving slowly at the beat of his own drums as he pecked the outer corner of your mouth, and then your cheek. and then there’s just pure mischief on his eyes.

“my turn now!”

sukuna

sukuna indulged himself in a few more of your gentle touches on his face, the softness of it almost made him felt like he was out of place. yet he couldn’t help it, savoring each of your kiss as to making sure he won’t get used to it. finding wonders to every of your move as he cherished it so.

“i’m awake,” he mumbled, thinking it’ll stop you from doing it. but when your response was just to give you more of it he couldn’t help but blinked awake; the sight of you smiling down at him almost made his heart burst. “morning!” you said sweetly, resting the palm of your hand on his bare chest.

“i’m already exhausted looking at your energized-self on the first light of the day,” he claimed, covering your hand with his. “well, we have a date today, of course i’m excited,” you said, the exuberance was apparent on your voice. sukuna looked like he was thinking for a moment before making you lie back down on his arms.

“let me sleep a little longer, then we will do whatever it is that  you want.”

toji

“what’s got you so chirpy, hm?” he had an lazy smile on his face, eyes still closing. his calm expression betraying the giddy feeling in his chest; you were so fucking cute, what’s a man supposed to do? once again you planted a kiss on his lips, right on his scar. there it was again, the damn itch on his chest he couldn’t scratch.

“nothing, just happy,” you replied, drawing random patterns on his chest. “yeah?” he brought you closer with the hand that’s still wrapped around your waist. you nodded happily, snuggling closer to his neck.

toji thought words such as forever or eternity was bullshit until that moment, until he's got you tightly in his hold; all safe and cozy without a care in the world. yet in that split second he wanted it to be true. y’know, just to humor him a little.

“if i didn’t know any better i woulda thought you won a lottery or something.”

but it would be wrong. since he already won it when he met you.

[writer-with-jazz]

Bad nights (part one)

poly marauders x reader

summary: Remus got clingy cuz of the full moon, James lost a match, Sirius has problems with his parents and you aren’t well. How Will this situation turn out?

warnings: I did re read for any mistakes but forgive me if there are still any, English isn’t my first language. Mentions of cramps. *************

The night had been long. The full moon had crept across the sky like a bloodstain, pulling Remus into his darker self. You hadn’t slept much, instead staying by his side, calming him through the transformation, holding him when the worst was ovre. You'd always been there for him during the full moon, to comfort him when he was at the lowest. But the aftermath was always the hardest.

As you slipped out of bed that morning, the sharp ache in your lower stomach was already making itself known. A quick hand to your forehead confirmed the faint but persistent headache you could feel creeping in. But it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You had always hated when your fate overlapped with the moon, but you were persistent and keen on keeping Remus comforted.

Remus was still in a haze, soft curls sticking to his forehead as he lay sprawled across the bed, his breathing slow but steady. You gently stroked his hair, making sure he was comfortable before slipping out of the room.

James was already up, in fact he hadn’t slept at all, pacing in front of the common room window, his Quidditch robes hanging loosely over his frame. His shoulders were slumped, and his usually bright eyes were shadowed with the frustration of the previous day’s loss. g his  competitive nature had been bruised, and you could see it in every frustrated sigh he let out, each muttered curse under his breath.

he grumbled as you entered the room, his gaze briefly flicking to you before returning to the window, "Can't believe we lost. We should’ve had that match. I—I don’t know what happened out there."

You let out a sigh, crossing the room to where he stood. The air between you was thick with the unspoken tension of a day that was already setting itself up to be difficult. 

"James, you played well," you offered quietly, your voice softer than usual. You needed to conserve your energy today. The last thing you wanted was to get caught in his spiral of selfloathing.

James shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair. "No, I didn't. Not good enough. I'm supposed to be team captain. I’m supposed to—" He cut himself off with an exasperated sound, turning to face you, his eyes wide and hurt. "I let everyone down."

The words were biting,and you could see his frustration beginning to shift into anger, an energy that was heavy and stormy. You stepped closer, reaching up to place a hand gently on his arm, trying to soothe him, but before you could speak again, the door slammed open, and sirius came in looking angry. He stormed into the room, his black hair wild and his eyes full of anger. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a harshness to his posture that you hadn’t seen in a while.

"Merlin’s bloody beard!" he snapped, throwing his robes down on the nearest chair. "She’s done it again. That vile, disgusting woman." He glared at the empty space as though it had personally offended him, his voice low but full of venom. "I swear I’ll hex her into next week if she don’t  stop—"

"Sirius, you interrupted, your voice breaking through the tension. "What’s happened? Who’s did what?"

He turned toward you, frustration written all over his face. "My mother," he spat the words like they were poison. "She—" He broke off with a frustrated growl. "She's spreading more of her lies. Calling me a disgrace. I don't care what she says about me, but it's the way she talks about you, about all of us. She doesn’t know when to keep her damn mouth shut." 

You could see the frustration etched in every line of his face, the fury he was barely containing. 

"She doesn't get to say those things about us, not about you—" Sirius began again, but before he could continue, Remus appeared in the doorway, a little disoriented but still with that familiar, warm look in his eyes. The transformation had left him weak, but the gentle way he looked at you was a comfort.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice still rough from the remnants of the full moon, his body swaying slightly as he leaned against the doorframe. “Are you okay?”

You smiled softly at him, but the heaviness of the room was starting to press in on you. "I'm fine, Remus. Just dealing with everything." You gestured to the others, who were now standing near each other, the tension between them palpable. Sirius, full angery, James, sulking and looking down at the floor, and Remus, who was still far too clingy for your liking, though you loved him, the constant need for contact, for reassurance, was draining, especially when there was sm going on 

Remus slowly shuffled over to you, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. “I know you’ve been up all night,” he murmured, his touch warm and familiar as he leaned his head against your shoulder. "But I'm... I just need you close."

You felt the weight of his need, the way his exhaustion made him cling to you even more than usual. Remus, after the full moon, was always a little more fragile—more in need of comfort, You didn’t have the energy to refuse him, so you let him rest his head on your shoulder, but the pressure of his presence felt like an anchor, keeping you stuck in the moment. His body heat radiated against yours, a contrast to the coldness that was between the others.

Sirius scoffed, his eyes flashing as he watched the scene unfold. "Do you really have to do that now, Remus?" he bit out, his voice sharp. "She’s already dealing with James’s little pity party and now you're draping yourself all over her like a bloody blanket."

James shot Sirius a dark look. "Sirius, not now. We’re already having a bad enough day without you making things worse."

But Sirius, already on edge from his mother’s words, wasn’t about to let it slide. “And you,” he snarled at James, "stop blaming yourself. You lost. Fine. So what? You don’t see me running around crying like a bloody baby." He turned back to Remus, his voice rising. "You’ve been through worse too, mate, but that doesn’t mean you get to turn her into your personal cushion!", 

Remus pulled away slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion, but the words struck hard. He looked between the two of them, his hand still resting on your arm but his face now drawn tight with exhaustion and hurt. “I just—I don’t know what you want from me, Sirius,” he said softly, a bit too emotionally raw for his own liking. "I’m just trying to get through the damn day."  His emotions all over the place from the exhaustion and pain.

You could feel it—everyone was breaking at the seams, and you were stuck in the middle, trying to pick up the pieces without anyone knowing just how much you were struggling too. The ache in your stomach intensified, but you bit your lip, trying to hide it, not wanting to add another layer of complication to everything already unraveling around you.

You caught James’s eyes as he stood there, his expression distant and hurt. He was disappointedt in the situation, in the way everything had turned out. The way the room felt as if it were closing in around you.

Sirius was still glaring at Remus, and James was still looking at you like you were the one thing left in the world that made sense.

And for the first time, you didn’t know how to fix it.

do you want to be added in the tag list for the next part? Comment or dm or send in an ask <3

[precupid]

─── b2b

WC ─── eight hundred twenty-seven

GENRE ─── fluff, just fluff, idk kinda angsty though, established relationship

SYNOPSIS ─── sleeping with you is hard, but sleeping without you is even harder for jake.

MARI NOTES ─── not proofread bc i literally just finished writing this </3 very very self indulgent, i literally could not stop thinking of sleepy and cuddly jake and that one quote “not when it’s you” m(_ _)m please enjoy and leave feedback if you’d like <3

Jake is not used to noisy sleepers. He is not used to people who are constantly moving in their sleep. And he sure as hell isn’t used to being punched in the face during slumber.

However, that doesn’t mean he won’t sleep with you. In fact, because you’re you, Jake willingly allows you to torture him in your sleep. That’s how much he adores you. He’ll take every punch, every slap, and every kick just to hold you close when you’re away in dreamland.

Yes, he does lose a lot of sleep. Yes, he does have large dark circles. And yes, he falls asleep during his classes. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop sleeping with you.

“Jake. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

The statement is enough to send Jake’s heart and mind into a frenzy. Are you mad at him? Did he do something wrong? How does he not know?

His puppy dog eyes are enough to give away that something is amiss and you pout at him, “I’m not mad. Just so you know.”

His voice is wobbly when he replies, “Then why? Do you hate me?”

Well. He wasn’t supposed to say that, but it comes out anyways.

You laugh, patting his cheek, “No, of course not! I just think you deserve a good night’s rest. I know how hard it is to sleep within my general vicinity, so I want you to have the bed tonight.”

Jake’s eyes go big and he grabs the hand that rests on his cheek, his thumb softly rubbing against your skin. “Thank you, my love. You’re so sweet.”

Truth be told, Jake is not looking forward to sleeping alone. Despite how difficult it is to sleep with you, he’s gotten used to the disarray that comes with sharing a bed every night. He’s used to falling off the bed, being whacked in the face, and your random murmurs every so often. He doesn’t know how he’ll cope without your warmth radiating from your side of the bed.

The night goes on, and suddenly, the night sky is draped with clouds and stars, the moon hung low in the sky. Jake pouts at you from his spot on the bed, pillow in his arms, as he watches you do your skincare routine, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with me? Like a thousand percent sure?”

A chuckle leaves your lips, “Yes. You should sleep for more than four hours. You deserve to.”

His heart hurts at that statement. He wants to sleep so badly, but not without you. Eight hours of sleep without you is nothing compared to the four hours he gets with you.

Jake follows you to the couch, which has been pulled out into a bed, and stands in front of it. His arms are spread out like a starfish, preventing you from going any closer. “Please. I’m desperate. I want to sleep with you.”

“Jake, but you should have a night to yourself where you can sleep soundly,” the way you sound almost sad makes Jake rethink his begging. “Just one night, Jake. Then I’m all yours.”

His arms drop to his sides and he holds out a pinky, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you smile, intertwining your little fingers.

Two hours after you’ve gone to bed, Jake lays limply and alone in the dark. His eyes are glued to the ceiling, his ears glued to the snoring coming from outside the bedroom. He hasn’t slept a wink at all and all he can think about is how much he misses you and your sleeping form.

Huffing, he pushes himself off the bed, and walks to the living room. You sound like a hacksaw, sprawled out along the couch. The comforter is on the floor and your pillows have been tossed to the side.

Jake picks up a pillow, dusting it off quickly, and places it under your head. He takes the other pillow and places it next to yours. Slipping into the spot beside you, he sighs as your warmth envelopes him and the back of your hand whacks him softly on the cheek.

Feeling the impact, you open one eye and whisper, “Jake? What are you doing here? I thought you were sleeping already?”

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he mumbles. You shift so Jake can position you in his arms.

“I thought my sleeping bothered you, so I wanted you to sleep alone for once. Y’know, sleep peacefully,” you admit. The grogginess in your voice makes Jake’s heart flutter, but your confession makes him feel like he’s sinking.

“You could never bother me. I love you,” Jake replies. He digs his nose in your neck and leaves a chaste kiss. “Nothing about you could bother me. I adore everything about you.”

Sniffling, you turn in Jake’s hold so you can look into his eyes. “I love you,” you say, trying to kiss Jake’s lips. Your brows furrow as he dodges your kiss. “What?”

“Sorry, babe,” Jake laughs breathlessly. “You got sleepy breath.”

“Whatever,” you pout.

Jake runs a hand through your hair and kisses your forehead, “Let’s just go back to bed.”

© PRECUPID. do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works anywhere.

[prettycopperpennies]

Falling Walls | Kang Dae-ho (Player 388) x F!Reader Oneshot

Description: If Dae-ho thought you would be an easy ally he had another think coming. (golden retreiver x black cat type shit. Slow burn)

Warning: Cursing, Toxic Ex (not Dae-ho), no gore but the setting is squid games.

Dae-ho x Female Reader

Player 456 was telling the truth. You were in shock as you saw people falling to the ground out of the corner of your eyes. You listened much closer the second time Player 456 ran to the front of the group and yelled out instructions.

“Get behind someone bigger than you,” he said, his last command before the massive doll turned its back to the rest of you.

Suddenly you were being maneuvered. Player 388 had stuck out a strong arm and swooped you behind him. You were surprised by how quickly he jumped into action, but your incredulity only lasted a few moments. With a huff you stepped out of his shadow. You made it a few steps before you had to freeze again right beside Player 388.

“Didn’t you hear what he said? ‘Get behind someone bigger’,” he said, clearly surprised by you overtaking him. You glared ahead, not daring to move. 

Dae-ho was completely lost. He had moved out of his way to help you, and it’s not like he expected you to be worshiping the ground he walked on for it, but he definitely did not think you would be annoyed. 

As soon as the song began again you turned your head in his direction and said, “Didn’t you hear what he said? If you’re going to talk when we’re not supposed to move then you had better cover your mouth.”

Dae-ho’s mouth was agape, not sure how to respond. Lucky for him he didn’t have to think up something to say; you were already moving far past him. He could have easily kept up with you, but an older player had taken your place behind him. He couldn’t leave a defenseless old woman behind so his only option was to watch you as you made your way across the field.

You turned around when you crossed the finish line watching with bated breath as the other players tried to cross in time. You exhaled when Player 456 and Player 120 just barely dragged an injured man across the line, but as soon as they crossed over the hurt player was “eliminated”.

You jumped when you heard the gunshot ring out, and jumped a second time when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s because that player was supposed to be taken out of the game earlier. I don’t think they’re just attacking random players now, it’s okay,” a voice said.

You turned your head to see it was Player 388.

What is his deal? you asked yourself as you shrugged off his shoulder.

“I know that,” you said curtly, turning on your heel and walking towards the opening doors. You wanted to get away from the now blood soaked playing field, creepy doll, and the annoyingly friendly Player 388 as soon as possible.

What’s her deal? Dae-ho asked himself as he watched you walk away. He couldn't figure you out, but unfortunately for you he was determined to.

1 YEAR EARLIER

You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by tons of papers. Receipts, debt notices, loan statements, threatening letters, and an eviction notice. The lines of letters and numbers (way, way, way too many numbers) started to blur as you began to well up with tears. 

You heard the door open but never close, and you looked up to find your boyfriend frozen in the door frame. You grabbed fistfuls of paper; not even making a dent in the haphazard stacks around you. Your boyfriend flinched as you held them up for him to see.

“When were you going to tell me about… all this?” you asked.

He didn’t answer and instead took a few tentative steps towards you.

“Don’t,” you warned, trying to sound intimidated as your voice quivered.

He didn’t listen to your one word warning as he slowly closed the space between you with each step.

“I’m so serious. I’m not just going to forgive you,” you said.

He was close enough to reach out a hand, cupping your tear stained cheek with his palm before saying, “I don’t expect you to. I fucked up-”

“Yeah, you did,” you said. Your tone was stern and unforgiving, but you still hadn’t brushed away his hand.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said.

“We’re getting evicted,” you said, tears now freely running down your face. He sat down next to you pulling you into a tight hug. You folded into it. Even though it was all his fault, he had always been the one to comfort you.

“I’m going to fix this, okay?” he said, “You don’t need to worry. It’s my fault. I’ll fix it.”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, “This is a partnership. I don’t care who’s fault it is. We get through this together.”

“Really?” he said with relief as he pulled out of the hug to hold your cheek in his hand once again.

“You would do the same for me,” you said.

“Of course I would,” he said. 

You sighed, feeling a glimmer of hope. You could always count on him to help you feel better about anything, no matter how hopeless it seemed before.

PRESENT DAY

Everyone in your vicinity started to cheer, but you stayed stoic. Yes, you had just won the vote, but you weren’t elated. It was simply a pragmatic decision on your part. It was not like you wanted to stay. You simply had no other choice.

As you walked back towards your bunk you saw the player who kept trying to help you during the first game. You were surprised to see he had voted O. You figured he would want to end the games immediately before anyone else got hurt. His own eyes went over the crowd and landed on you. You quickly looked away, hoping against hope he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“There is no way we both showed up wearing the same thing,” a familiar voice said. You rolled your eyes before turning to face Player 388. He was sporting a sarcastically shocked expression, looking between your outfit and his.

He pointed to your blue O patch and his before saying, “I mean, it’s down to the accessories and everything. What are the chances?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. There was no way in hell you were about to crack a smile over such a cheesy joke. You scoffed before heading in the direction of your bed.

“What I was trying to point out was we both voted O. Let’s be allies,” he said, easily keeping up with your quick pace.

“I don’t need an ally,” you said curtly. You were suddenly stopped in your tracks as he stepped in front of you.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked before gesturing with a nod to the other players.

You looked around realizing a lot of people were already forming groups. This did not bode well for you. You had meant what you said: you didn’t need an ally… Or, maybe it was more like you didn’t want an ally.

As you looked around the room Dae-ho noticed your nervous expression. He felt guilty when he saw how his point had stressed you out. He mentally kicked himself for inadvertently freaking you out.

He leaned towards you, dipping down a little to bring you closer to eye level.

“I don’t think it’s actually a big deal,” he said in a much quieter tone, attempting to make up for his comment moments earlier, “It’s more like I need an ally, you know? I’m sure you’d be fine on your own.”

You were taken back by how gentle this seemingly boisterously energized player seemed. You turned back to face him only to realize how close the two of you were.

“I know I’ll be fine,” you said, but this time you couldn’t quite manage to sound as vexed as usual.

“No, I totally agree. You seem like a badass,” he said. If jokes didn’t work in breaking down your apathetic facade maybe compliments would.

Or maybe not, Dae-ho thought to himself as you openly rolled your eyes. You side stepped around him. This time Dae-ho stayed back as you stalked off to your bed.

“I’m around if you change your mind,” he called after you.

“I won’t,” you said over your shoulder, determined to figure out a way to make your way out of this on your own.

You ate by yourself. You were one of the few people who had not seemed to find their own group of people to buddy up with. Player 388 was talking across the room to a group of men that included Player 456. He seemed completely at ease, and you found yourself almost jealous of his outgoing personality. He caught your eye once again, giving you a small wave. You did not return the gesture instead moving your eyes off him as quickly as you could.

I’ll be fine, you said to yourself, repeating the phrase once again. This time though you struggled to believe it.

SEVENTH MONTHS AGO

You were packing as fast as you could trying your best to ignore the many excuses your boyfriend was telling you.

“She’s just a friend,” he insisted for the millionth time.

“Very good friends apparently,” you spat back, wrestling with yourself to keep your tears back. This asshole was not about to make you cry.

“Y/n, it didn’t mean anything,” he said.

“To you, maybe!” you said.

“I don’t care what it meant to her. Really, I don’t. You matter so much more tha-”

“Shut up! What do you think seeing her and you together meant to me? How it felt?” you asked.

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Don’t call me babe. And don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it,” you said. It wasn’t exactly true though. You couldn't help it. You still found yourself caring about him a little, and hearing him say sorry sent a squeeze to your heart no matter how much you wished it didn’t.

“I really am sorry,” he said as he reached out his hand.

He used his classic move, gently cupping your cheek as he apologized for whatever new fuck up he did. You paused for a moment, shaken by how close it was to working, before you shoved his hand away.

“I’m leaving,” you said, grabbing your bag.

“Wait, don’t go. Let’s talk, please,” he said, the words coming out quickly as he followed down the hall. You quickened your pace knowing any second now he could break your resolve. It didn’t matter how bad he hurt you, you always seemed to forgive him. But not this time.

PRESENT DAY

Your mouth went dry as soon as the voice announced over the loudspeaker to form groups of five. It was as if the universe was hell bent on proving you wrong and Player 388 right. It seemed like everyone else was making groups with ease, basically already having a group already made thanks to the previously forged friendships.

Dae-ho was giving you the space you wanted, but he couldn’t help but notice the nervous expression you wore when he spotted you in the crowd. He wanted nothing more than to go over and offer you a place on his team, but he stopped himself from going over and giving you a helping hand. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to help you; it wasn’t what you wanted. His shoulder relaxed, which he hadn’t even realized he had been tensing, when you found a group just in the nick of time.

You ended up with a group of men led by Player 100. He was surly off the bat and not at all interested in making friends which was fine by you. It wasn’t a problem till it came to choosing who would play which game. 

“And you can play Jegi,” Player 100 said, assigning you a game.

“I’ve never played Jegi,” you told him.

“Then you had better find a way to practice! If you mess up, we’re all dead,” he said with a huff like it was somehow your fault for never playing.

“How would I practice?” you asked.

This is exactly why I don’t need an ally, you thought spitefully to yourself.

“There’s pebbles all over,” he said, pointing at the dirt ground you all stood at, “Pick some up. And. Practice.”

“Is everything okay over here?”

Player 388 was walking up to your team. His expression was one you hadn’t seen before, and it was surprisingly intimidating. But he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was glaring down Player 100.

“Go back to your own team. We’re fine here,” Player 100, waving him off.

But Player 388 didn’t seem so easily scared off. He stepped between you and the old man, clearly not planning on leaving any time soon.

“Look, it’s not my fault she’s refusing to play Jegi,” Player 100 said, not backing down either.

“Are any of you good at Jegi?” Player 388 asked the rest of your group.

One member timidly raised their hand, trying their best to avoid the glares from Payer 100. Suddenly another member spoke up saying they much preferred Djaki over Spinning Top. That opened up the floodgates, and all three players on your team quickly started to admit they’d like to switch games. Player 388 looked at you with a much kinder expression (one you were used to seeing him sport).

“Which do you want to play?” he asked.

“I’m alright at Biseokchigi,” you admitted. You couldn’t tell if he was actually starting to wear you down or his earlier moment of intimidation, but your usual cold shouldering demeanor was momentarily dismantled.

 He nodded before looking over to your other group members, one of whom was happy to switch spots with you. Player 100 openly scoffed at his team's betrayal, but his attitude was somewhat quelled with Player 388 gave him another look.

“What game is left over?” he asked the team without ever taking his eyes off the old man.

“Spinning top,” you said.

“Alright, then you’ll have spinning top,” he said, assigning Player 100 a game in a very similar fashion the man had assigned your game to you. You waited a moment for Player 100 to disagree, but he knew when he was beat. Without argument he took a seat on the ground, and your other teammates followed suit.

Player 388 turned to you and asked, “Are you good? You know, maybe they’ll let you switch teams.”

“I’m good,” you said, moving towards the end of your team’s line to take a seat.

“Let me help you,” he asked. You were taken aback by the earnest desperation in his voice, but you managed to shake it off before responding.

“I don’t need your help,” you answered curtly.

He groaned in frustration, but left you to your own devices as he went back to his own team. You had gotten your way, and yet there was a part of you that was a little sad to see him go.

“Lucky you know Dae-ho. I would kill to have a marine as an ally,” your team member sitting next to you said.

“Who’s Dae-ho?” you asked.

“Player 388. I thought you two had formed a pact or something,” they said, their eyebrows raising with surprise.

“Oh. No, we haven’t,” you said.

Dae-ho managed to cheer louder than anyone else for your team, which wasn’t an easy feat considering how loudly everyone was yelling. As soon as you crossed that line relief flooded through you. Of course, there was one person in particular who caught your eye mid celebration.

When Dae-ho saw you smiling at him he felt his knees start to go weak. For the past few days he’d only been getting eye rolls and frowns, but he hadn’t expected you to look so beautiful when you smiled. As soon as you looked in his direction he started to whoop even louder, giving you a grin. He swore he could see your demeanour brighten even more as the two of you locked eyes. But, as much as he wished the moment would last, you and your team were soon swooped out of the room.

Your eyes shot to the doors every time you heard them open to let in a new celebrating group. A tinge of disappointment jabbed at you as each group passed and it was missing one familiar face. You tried to distract yourself, making and remaking your bed countless times.

Why is there literally nothing to do here, you thought to yourself.

You were trying to convince yourself you were bored, not worried for one very specific player who had somehow started to worm his way into your heart. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the fact that he stood up for you meant something to you.

Your bed was in the midst of being made for the hundredth time when the doors opened once again. You had almost given up hope, but still you chanced a look. Against all odds you saw a familiar ponytailed tall frame. Without thinking you rushed down the steps with relief fueled adrenaline.

Dae-ho stopped mid conversation with his team as soon as he saw you standing just a few feet from him, breathing heavily. He bit back a smile at the uncharacteristic situation you were in. It wasn’t until you were face to face with him that you realized exactly what you were doing. You were so happy he had made it, fully terrified for the past half hour he wasn’t coming back through those doors, that the second you saw him your brain turned off. But now, with Dae-ho’s eyes looking into yours, the switch had been flipped and your mind was racing once again.

What am I doing? you internally screamed at yourself. You thought about just turning around and walking away, but he had already seen you (of course he did, you had ran directly up to him).

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“What? Yes,” you said, trying and failing to sound apathetic, “I ran down the steps just now.”

“Any reason why?” he asked.

“I… really have to go to the bathroom,” you said.

It was a shitty lie. You both knew it. You internally cringed, but Dae-ho was all grins. At a feeble attempt to prove your claim was true you started to head in the direction of the restrooms.

“I’m not letting you off that easy,” Dae-ho said.

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“That’s actually so weird,” he said.

“What’s so weird? Me having to pee? I hate to break it to you Dae-ho, but everyone does it,” you said.

“Nah, I’m talking about you being a terrible liar. I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years,” he said.

“I’m not lying,” you said, stopping to glare him down. Your attempt at intimidation was completely undermined by the “I’ve totally been caught” blush blooming on your cheeks.

“Relax. That just means you're a good person,” he said.

Somehow that comment had shot through a crack in your walls and hit your heart straight on. You didn’t want to admit how much it meant for this absolute golden retriever of a person to think of you as a good person.

Dae-ho noticed your silence and it stung. He didn’t like how simply telling you you were a good person totally knocked you off your feet. He knew what he said was true, and it hurt him to think hearing it was something special. He didn’t think a compliment like that should be something foreign to someone like you.

“You really are a good person, you know,” he said, repeating what he had said before.

You were surprised to feel a burning behind your eyes. The earnest tone in his voice, what he was telling you, it was all about to bring you to tears. The walls you so carefully crafted weren’t cracking, they were crashing down. You couldn’t stand feeling so vulnerable and instead of shooting back some quippy comment you took off before he could see a single tear slide down your cheek.

Dae-ho watched you rush off to the bathroom, leaving him feeling heartbroken for the distant girl he had undeniably fallen for.

3 MONTHS AGO

You rubbed your forehead in frustration as the elevator music played from your phone. You had been on hold for three hours and were about to lose your mind.

“Hello Miss y/n,” a voice said, finally bringing an end to that cursed generic tune.

Your fist clenched tightly around the phone, more than a little relieved to finally hear a human voice, “Yes, hello! I’m here!”

“So we looked through your records, and it seems like the best course of action for now is to suspend your account and get a new card,” the voice said.

“But I’ve already done that,” you said with a sinking feeling.

“Oh… Ah, yes I see that,” they said.

“So, you see why, right?” you checked, hoping for some sort of solution in the midst of the worst storm you had ever found yourself in.

“Um…” the voice trailed off, clearly trying to find what you were alluding to in some sort of file.

“It’s my ex. He had my credit card info and used it to pay off his loans, but I can’t pay any of it back. I’ll be put into debt,” you explained, running a hand through your hair in stress.

“I see. Well, perhaps we can cover some of that. I believe if you report him-”

“I tried, but that…” you bit your tongue, stopping the “asshole” just on the tip of it from falling out, “He’s currently seeing someone pretty high up the ladder in the force, so...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it really didn’t seem like a productive phone call,” you admitted.

You quickly brushed away the frustrated tears falling down your face as if this person was standing in front of you. Of course, they had no idea, but even now you couldn't even stand the thought of someone simply being on the phone with you while you were like this.

“Listen, he stole my identity, took out credit cards in my name, paid off loans with my money, took out more loans in my name, and I need to figure out a way to fix this,” you said, praying they couldn’t notice the quivering in your voice.

PRESENT DAY

You were standing on the raised circular level a little nauseated by the hypocritically cheerful carousel motif. You tried to focus your head, but it was admittedly hazy. You had spent the last twenty four hours trying desperately to tamp down thoughts of two men in your life. Once from the past and one you were all too aware was very much in your present. You were completely unsuccessful in your attempts, and instead you had been tossing and turning all night and completely unable to eat at mealtimes.

Dae-ho glanced in your direction, knowing he wouldn’t catch your eyes no matter how much he hoped. He hated seeing you the other day leave the bathroom with red rimmed eyes. Clearly you had been crying. All he wanted to do was give you a hug and tell you it was okay. It was okay to cry, to be sad, or mad, any of it was okay. But if he thought you were distant before then this was a whole other level. Ever since your conversation after the last game you were avoiding him even more than before, which was saying something. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching out for you as the horribly familiar voice echoed across the room as it explained the rules.

You had managed to stumble across some much deserved luck. You choosing to stay ally-less seemed to be an advantage for Mingle. Everyone had their previously forged groups, but as the numbers called out by the voice fluctuated there was always people needing just one more person to join their group.

You and Dae-ho seemed to be playing your own separate game: how to look at each other without the other person noticing. Despite your resolve to completely forget him you could not stop yourself from scanning the crowd after every round. You would always feel relieved every time you saw his tall figure among the crowd. Dae-ho was doing the same, making sure you always had a group before he went into his own room. He was starting to worry as the game went on. You had seemed tired before the game even started, and as it continued he could see the exhaustion start to set in.

As soon as the voice said “Two” you tried to keep your head in the game, but the rush of bodies around you already had you stumbling. You couldn't even find someone to pair up with, and the rooms were quickly filling up. With a deep breath you accepted the failure that was approaching. But then a hand grabbed your own and pulled you towards one of the few empty rooms. You saw the number 388 on the back of your savior’s shirt.

Of course, you thought to yourself. Despite being so sure of your fate just moments ago you were hardly surprised Dae-ho saved you just in time.

He closed the door behind the two of you, and suddenly the hectic world was shut out. You both stood, frozen, looking at the other. You couldn’t find what to say. You had kept yourself closed off for so long, and so severely, opening up was suddenly an impossible task. Dae-ho was of course the first one to break the silence.

“Sorry. I know you’ve been keeping your distance for a reason, but-”

“Did you just apologize for saving my life? God, that is so…you,” you said, and despite everything you felt an exasperated smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

He paused for a moment before giving you a feeble laugh. You bit at your lip in nervousness, knowing what you were about to ask and it terrified you. Dae-ho noticed your stress and assumed the game, and how close you both just came to losing, had really shaken you up. He wanted desperately to offer you some sort of comfort; to say something or just hold you. But before he could do anything you were speaking up once again.

“Want to be allies?” you asked.

He gave you a soft smile as he took a step towards you with a nod, “Of course.”

“Okay,” you said, trying not to sound so overly relieved.

“I mean, I had never even thought about it before, but it seems great for a totally random idea,” he said, and you let yourself laugh at his little joke.

Dae-ho’s chest puffed up a little as you giggled, practically on cloud nine to not only get you to smile but actually laugh. He wanted to do it over and over again for as long as you would let him.

1 WEEK AGO

You turned the card over and over again in your hand. Your cheek was still stinging from the odd interaction in the subway. But at the end of it all you were given the very card you were holding now. You hadn’t been able to crawl out of the hole your ex made for you. You had no other answers.

With a deep breath you dialed the number on the back of the card.

PRESENT DAY

You waited nervously on your bed as gunshots rang out from floors above you. You thought about going too and helping them, but when you admitted you didn’t know how to use a gun they told you it might be best for you to stay behind. You still felt bad. Dae-ho and you were officially allies now, and you couldn’t help but feel you were letting that partnership down.

When Dae-ho stumbled into the room, you sat straight up. Something about him didn’t seem right. He seemed totally out of it as he rifled through pockets of jumpsuits. You quickly crossed over to him, kneeling down next to him.

“Dae-ho, is everything okay? Are you okay?” you asked.

Your voice pulled him out of the barrage of intense thoughts and images flashing through his mind. He was shutting down, but hearing you suddenly brought him back. He looked at you; a buoy in the storm.

Your heart broke for him as you saw his eyes start to well with tears. Instinctually you reached out and pulled him into a hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his shoulders start to relax. Neither of you had been that physically close till this point, but even in this heightened situation it seemed so natural.

“I… I can’t go back. It’s too much like…” he couldn’t finish his train of thought, but you recalled what another player had told you during the second game about Dae-ho being a marine.

“It’s okay,” you said, rubbing calming circles on his back before helping him get on his feet. He grabbed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers with his, needing to stay close to you in this moment. You let him pull you to sit next to him as he sat on his bed, and you wrapped a protective arm around him.

“I don’t know what to do, y/n. They need help, but I…” he started, struggling to finish his sentence once again.

“You stay here, okay?” you told him. You moved to get up, but he wouldn't drop your hand from his. Instead, he looked at you with wide-worrying eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“It’ll be alright. I’ll take them the ammunition,” you assured him, once again attempting to get up. He stopped you once again, pulling you close. Your breath hitched in your throat as he brought his hand to your cheek. It was a feeling that should seem so familiar, but somehow as Dae-ho gently held your cheek in his hand it couldn't feel further from your ex. Just like everything else Dae-ho did, this was real and not some “move” to get you to do something for him.

“I can’t be the reason you are put in danger, y/n,” he said, proving you right. He was not trying to make you forget any mistakes or to fix anything for him. He just wanted to hold you close.

You subconsciously leaned in, and it only took a half of a moment for Dae-ho to meet you in the middle. The kiss was gentle and full of care. You naturally leaned into his palm as he cupped your cheek.

“I’ll be alright,” you said, breaking the kiss.

He moved his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck, guiding you so your forehead rested against his.

“I’m not going to let you risk everything for me, okay?,” he assured you.

Player 120 entered the room, and the both of you moved away from each other. He tried over and over again to apologize while she grabbed the ammunition he had gathered, but then she was stopped by one of her own allies. All of you snapped your heads to the sliding doors as guards entered the room. Player 120 and her friend quickly and quietly hid the ammunition she was currently holding.

Dae-ho grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. Neither of you knew what was coming, but it seemed like it would be alright as long as you had each other.

[historiawon]

WHILE THE IRON IS HOT

You, Rafayel's bodyguard, ask if you can commission him to sketch your next tattoo.

Based on this post. Can also be found on AO3 :)

Tags: gender neutral reader, getting closer (professionally as well as casually), reader is NOT an artist, rafayel is NOT a numbers guy, bickering, close proximity, lots of eye contact

Kindly read under the cut!

They say, ‘Strike when the iron is hot.’

The mantra repeats excessively in your mind as you watch over Rafayel, the person who employed you as his bodyguard. Because the current chances of Wanderers attacking the Mo Art Studio is low (never zero), you give your mind permission to wander. A little. Just a little.

Your mind wanders as far as a few weeks ago: the request at the tip of your tongue. That will later be inked to your skin.

As they say, ‘Strike while the iron is hot.’ You’re standing a few feet away from a brilliant artist. This is your chance.

You cough. “Excuse me.”  

“I have a name,” Rafayel says, as he brushes past you to rummage through his box of tools. He takes out a scraper.

“Right. Rafayel?”  

“What’s up?” He returns to his stool.

“I have a question, and please indulge me: what do you think about doing commissions?”

“Commissions?” Rafayel repeats, as he scrapes the dried pigment off the canvas. “Like, other people paying me to paint for them?”

“Yes.” 

Rafayel raises an eyebrow at you for a split-second before returning his attention back on the painting. He calculates a precise location before scraping again. “In your dreams. I don’t paint for anyone. I don’t even speed up my painting process for Thomas, even if he asked.”

“Even if it will earn you extra income?”

“And extra work! I already work hard enough to finish original pieces as they are.”

You nod and remember the instances of him submitting a painting late. “True. I suppose that your original works already earn enough to support you. . . and Thomas, ‘cause you pay him,” and me, as your bodyguard, you add as an afterthought. Wait, does he even pay me?

(You make a mental note to clarify that later; you have a more pressing concern right now.)

Slowly, Rafayel puts down his scraper and turns towards you. “You want me to paint something for you, is that it?”

“Hm.” You try to be vague. “No, I was just curious.”

“No, you’re not ‘just curious.’ There’s a follow-up question to it; I know.”

Silence hangs in the air as the two of you exchange a prolonged and loaded eye contact. Your breath hitches at the full attention. His pupils glance at your throat before looking back at your eyes.

Y/N, I know, his gaze seems to say.

Your steady look asks: You know?

With a nod, Rafayel’s expectant gaze answers, Try me.

We’re going off topic, Rafayel.  

“Ha! You blinked first!” He exclaims in victory then raises a hand as if to stop you from opening your mouth. “Yes, Y/N, I know a staring contest wasn’t what we were doing. But I know you have a follow-up question.”

“I do, but I was planning to take this slow. I know we have…” you gesture to the space between the two of you, “professional boundaries. I’m not in the position to ask for commission requests yet. It’s not even open.”

“So considerate,” Rafayel teases, but his gaze on you softens. “That’s cute.”

“Still, right?”

His ears flush pink, like he can’t believe what just happened. In a snap, he changes back to his usual self and touches his ear. “Just shoot your shot. Time will pass whether you ask me now or later.”

“My follow-up question was about if I can avail your services for an art commission. You can just draw; no colors. I’ll pay. What’s your price?”

“Assuring me straight up that you’ll pay? I like that in a customer!”

“We’re going off topic, Rafayel.”  

“Hey! What’s with the accusatory tone?” He says as he rubs his ears. The pink turns to red. “You’re no different. You went on a roundabout way just to ask me for a piece! You can just say,” he straightens his posture—highly reminiscent of your current posture that was earned from your job as a hunter—and imitates your tone, “‘Hey, Raf, can you make this for me? I’ll pay!’ Simple. Done.”

You break character and scoff. He chuckles at your reaction.

“Yes, but that was more of an opening rather than ‘off-topic.’ I’d rather know if you accept commissions or not before I ask you.”

“Why?”

“It’s polite.”

You bite back a grin when he makes a face. He apparently notices the way you hold back a smile—he glances at your mouth once and his ears turn red. Again. Redder than that dried pigment he’s been scraping off. “Whatever. I can be polite.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t.”

“It was implied,” he whined.

You adjust your expression back to a more neutral and respectful one to stay on track of the topic.

“So, how much will a sketch cost?”

“Hmm,” he looks at the ceiling and puts a finger under his jaw, which stains his skin with color. He seems too used to it to bother reacting. “Given that I’ve earned my spot in the industry, it would be, I don’t know. . . a lot?”

“Right. Do you have an exact amount?”

“Oh, cutie, I gotta be honest with you…” Eyes on the canvas, Rafayel scrunches his face with some hard-to-decipher smile. He picks up his scraper and scrapes off a small piece of dried pigment in the corner of the piece. A huge chunk of dried powder falls out. Yikes. “I don’t really know much about the numbers aspect. Will you bother Thomas with a hypothetical question? Don’t tell him I’m considering to give you a commission! I don’t wanna deal with his lectures.”

You make a mental note.

“Sure. I will do that. Do you want me to pay you directly? Since I imagine the price will be a lot, I can pay you in installments, if you accept.”

“Wow,” he drawls, tone impressed, “You thought this through.”

“Mm. I’m serious about this.”

Rafayel’s adam’s apple moves as he fixes his gaze at the canvas with intensity. “I’ll decide depending on the drawing. What do you want me to sketch?”

You imagine your budget, yet again. “Depends on the price.”

“Y/N,” he drawls. “We’re going in circles! Off-topic!”

“I was hoping you would sketch a tattoo for me.”

At that, Rafayel whips his head towards you so fast. The crack of his neck is loud enough for you to feel bad.

“What?” He asks, voice hoarse.

“Is your neck OK—”

“For—forget my neck. Off-topic,” he repeats, with his eyes almost teary on you. “Repeat what you said.”

“A tattoo. Just a small one. Under my ear.” At his stunned silence, you continue, “Well, it’s not every day that I can talk to a talented artist. I’m taking my chances and I’ll pay you, I promise. If I’m unable to pay it in full, then you can take money off my sala—”

“You—you want me to draw a tattoo?”

“Yes. For me.”

“I’ll draw it? Are you sure?” he almost chokes on his words.

“Yes, it would be an honor.”

“’An honor’—oh my god. No, it would be an honor to me. Not to you, to me.” Rafayel fans himself with his collar. “Wha—what—what kind of tattoo?”

“I was thinking of a sunset.” You feel a little unprepared at Rafayel’s reaction. His eyes are wide and mouth agape. No amount of spotlight could top the nerve-wracking feeling of someone’s full attention on you. “Like… I don’t know how that would look good, but… preferably, uh, you know those sketches that are made in a continuous line? Like that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeat. “Does that look good? Any professional, artistic opinion?”

“Whatever you want,” his voice cracks again. You wince. “It’s a tattoo, silly. It’s supposed to be personal.”

“The mere subject is personal. I don’t mind much about the artistic style it takes to get inked on me, as long as it fits the way I look.”

“On your neck, huh…” he mutters. “I’ll help. Let’s make it perfect.”

A pause. Rafayel stands up from his stool and tears off a piece of paper from a sketchbook. “Uh, you might want to sketch what was in your mind. Then I will modify it, if you’re unsatisfied with what you made.”

“I just said I don’t mind ab—”

“A tattoo is personal. You should draw and I’ll check.”

You wave your hands away from the paper. “Ah, no! I already tried. I’m bad at drawing. That is why I need your help.”

Rafayel avoids your gaze and leaves the paper on the stool. “OK, um, I’ll be back. Let me wash my hands first—”

“You don’t have to do it now—” you say, but the man is already brushing past you to wash his pigment-stained hands (and face). He belatedly locks the bathroom door behind him, and you can hear muffled screams from where you are standing.

What’s up with him? You wonder. Is this what happens when you strike a hot iron? You didn’t think you would go this far.

_

Rafayel returns as if you didn’t hear his muffled screaming. “Who’s gonna do your tattoo?”

“I found a tattoo shop at Linkon city. They said we’re allowed to bring designs of our own.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and crosses his arms. “And you think they can imitate my genius?”

“I hope they can,” you indulge him a compliment. His ears flush pink—you can see it with the short distance between the two of you.

“How much is it?” You ask again. “Hey, does asking for your opinion have a price?”

“Geez. Why do you keep asking me about money and prices? I literally said I’m not a numbers guy. Don’t go back to the circle, Y/N.” He widens his eyes at you.

“I don’t know; you might be similar to a legal counselor. Don’t they charge clients per session?”

“We’re going off-topic, Y/N,” he says in exasperation. “I don’t know about other artists, but I’m not charging you for asking. Actually, you know what? Pay me with a favor instead. Don’t ask Thomas about a price! You’re commissioning me with a favor!”

The mental note in your head falls down like a ripped-out post-it. “Oh, OK! Thanks?”

“And no, my opinion is for free. You might never ask me for it again if I said it costs something.”

You shrug. “Possibly.”

“So let’s—” Rafayel looks around the room. “Sit down. Your legs must ache from standing all afternoon.”

You sit down on the couch he gestures to. It’s a little relieving on the leg area. Meanwhile, Rafayel tugs his collar with a nervous swallow as he sits next to you. In his hands are two pencils and an eraser shaped like an octopus.

“So, sunset?” He asks awkwardly.

You look at his eyes and smile. “Yes. Sunset.”

“OK. Sunset.”

“Uh-huh. Sunset. Should I get the paper you ripped earlier? And the sketchbook so it can be on top of something?” You say with hands already outstretched.

“So chivalrous,” he teases, but the frown on his face makes the teasing come off as awkward. You playfully scoff to avoid embarrassing him. “Yes. Please start.”

With the paper and sketchbook on your lap, you draw the first line.

The second. The third.

Then regret it.

“Yikes.”

“Hm?”

When you look at Rafayel, he no longer looks flustered. Replacing his awkward eyes is an intense, focused gaze. You instinctively cover the “drawing” with your palm, but Rafayel’s warm fingers pulls it back.

“This will be my tattoo.” You try to avoid feeling awkward.

He studies the drawing for a few beats. Then intently at your neck.

“Press your ear like this. I want to see the space where this will go.”

Awkwardly, you turn your head and press your ear forward to fold it.

“Is it this ear?”

“Yes.”

“Portrait?”

“Yes, portrait. I want it to be visible.”

You hold the pose for a few more seconds. Rafayel’s silence is making you feel more and more flustered. He exhales, mind in mid-thought.

“What do you think? As an artist?”

“I won’t answer that,” he says earnestly, “but do you want me to change it?”

“Please,” you whisper. “I mean, that’s what the entire conversation earlier was about, anyway. A talented artist to draw my tattoo. Hopefully.”

“I’ll make a few suggestions.”

Rafayel does not take the paper on the sketchbook away from your lap. Instead, he uses the second pencil and draws on it.

This is weird.

The warmness that radiates from him—from his close proximity with you—feels quite comforting. You suddenly remember the mattress of the bed when you used to live with Grandma. It just… it felt nice. You feel your upper body lose its tension.

Plus, you can see the violet strands of his hair up close. It’s a pretty color. Maybe violet will be your favorite color, from now on.

“Here, check this out—”

You snap out of your thoughts, but you do not make it obvious.

Rafayel created two sample tattoos, following at least two of the three lines you drew. It seems like the base for his modification drawings.

“What do you think?”

Your heart starts thumping in your chest like a lion in its cage. There’s a… there’s a rush of excitement in your stomach and in your throat. This is pretty. This is genius. Rafayel is able to turn something amateur into something great and you can’t help but be amazed. “That’s infinitely better, wow!”

“Are you sure? We can do better than that. I mean, this one’s stroke is out of line…”

“Sure, but these are pretty as they are! I must owe you a huge favor for this ‘commission,’ right?”

Something changes in Rafayel’s eyes. He looks a little sheepish. “Actually.”

“Yes?”

“I know what favor to ask of you now.”

“Tell me. Strike while the iron’s hot,” strike while we’re on the topic!

“How open are you to having me as your tattoo artist?”

[snickerer]

I've started a Little Women inspired Azriel x Archeron!reader, if anyone is interested. This is my first time posting on Tumblr, so let me know if I'm missing something. I would love to hear your thoughts!

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After abruptly putting down your pencil, you scrutinize the man lazing across from you.  As your sketch lies abandoned in your lap, you notice that his hair is slightly mused.  Likely due to the autumn wind that signified summer slipping away.  

“When are you going back?”  You finally ask as worry begins to work its way into your chest.  You quickly shove it back down.

“Soon,” Azriel replies simply, and you can’t seem to stop the exasperated sigh that slips out.  

“You’ve been saying the same variation of that for the past month, Az.  I’m not sure if ‘soon’ qualifies as an answer at this point.”

“Short answers keep me from saying the wrong thing.”  

“Rhys has been expecting you for weeks.  Why not just go and save yourself  the trouble?”

“Perhaps I’m looking for trouble,” he offers while quirking an eyebrow.  Despite the slight smile creeping its way onto his face, his eyes are assessing.  You find yourself playing with the picnic basket in between both of you and glance down at the drawing in your lap.  

“You are the trouble,” you reply blandly.  

“I would only cause issues if I went.”  His words seem to linger in the air and seconds pass before Azriel decides to continue, “I’d be a burden.”  The last words come out raw, as if they had caught on a wound that had not been given proper time to heal.  

“You’re not a burden,” you reply firmly before you even realize what you were saying.  And you subconsciously shift closer to him on the blanket.  

“Then I suppose I should stay here and not burden you for a little while longer.”  You bite down on your lip to stop an unlady-like grin from lighting up your face. If your mother could see you now.  As a cooling shadow snakes its way up your arm, it is almost indistinguishable from the charcoal smeared along your skin.  Promptly, you take a moment to wipe off the charcoal enveloping your hands onto your dress- completely staining the pristine cerulean fabric.  

Azriel leans forward and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.  His hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he speaks again.  

“Honestly, I’m beginning to think that you enjoy my company,” Azriel adds.  You feel your eyes widen slightly at the comment and shift away from him.  As your eyes flicker across his face while you quickly distract yourself by picking up your sketch and getting back to work.  

“What are you doing?”  You ask, suddenly, not bothering to look up as a wave of annoyance flares up in you.  

“Looking at you.”

“No, I mean what are you doing?”  You ask again and try to push down the bubbling anger that was threatening to rise to the surface.  Your brows furrow as you add, “You can’t avoid them forever.  They’re your family.”  

“What do you want me to do?” 

“This isn’t about what I want, Az.” You bite back.  Then, taking a long pause to rub your temples soothingly at the aching pain before continuing, “But you should go home.  Work.  Do something with yourself.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” he responds.  Azriel’s face was more guarded than before.  More conflicted too, if you were to wager a guess.  

“I never said that.  I said this isn’t about what I want.”  You answer as a wave of guilt begins to build.  Were you too harsh?  Your eyes lock as you study each other and the air around you begins to grow tense.  

“Here.”  You say, breaking the silence, and hold out your sketch to him. 

[gumims]

cops and robbers | choso x reader

for the @phantasmaebg event!!!

wc: 792

the city buzzed with energy as you slinked through the shadows, the sharp scent of rain clinging to the air. the museum was quieter than usual, almost eerie, the soft hum of the security system the only sound accompanying you. the painting you were after glinted just ahead, a priceless masterpiece practically begging to be stolen.

you’d done this countless times before. in and out, no complications.

but tonight was different.

tonight, he was here.

“y’know,” a low, smooth voice drawled behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. “for someone who prides themselves on being invisible, you’re pretty predictable.”

you turned, your heart skipping as choso kamo stepped out of the shadows, his dark eyes locked onto you with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.

“predictable?” you shot back, masking the flicker of nerves with a smirk. “i prefer the term ‘consistent.’”

his lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. instead, he stepped closer, his long coat brushing against his legs, his boots echoing softly in the empty gallery. you took an instinctive step back, your fingers itching to reach for the smoke bomb in your pocket.

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker.

“what can i say? i have a knack for making your job harder,” you teased, even as your pulse quickened.

“yeah, i’ve noticed.”

his gaze was unrelenting, a mix of frustration and something else—something that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.

“you here to catch me or flirt with me?” you asked, tilting your head with a grin you hoped looked confident.

his eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening. “who says i can’t do both?”

your breath caught, but you refused to let it show. instead, you shrugged, leaning casually against the nearest pillar. “you’ve been chasing me for months, kamo. don’t you ever get tired?”

“never.” his answer was immediate, firm. “you make it interesting, plus if i wanted you arrested, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

you hated the way his words sent a spark of heat through you. this was supposed to be a game—cat and mouse, thief and officer. but the way he looked at you, the way his voice dropped just enough to make your pulse race, it felt like something else entirely.

“well,” you said, pushing off the pillar and circling him slowly, your eyes scanning for an opening. “if you enjoy the chase so much, maybe i’ll let you catch me one day.”

he didn’t move, his gaze tracking your every step like a predator watching its prey. “maybe tonight’s the night.”

“you think so?” you asked, stopping just out of reach, your smirk widening. “hate to break it to you, but i’m not that easy.”

“neither am i,” he shot back, his voice low and dangerous.

the air between you was electric, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the job and everything to do with the way his eyes lingered on yours. for a moment, you wondered what would happen if you closed the distance, if you stepped just a little closer.

but then you remembered who you were—and who he was.

“well,” you said, taking a step back, “as fun as this has been, i’ve got places to be.”

you moved to dart past him, but he was faster than you expected. his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back before you could make it two steps.

“not so fast,” he murmured, his voice a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

you twisted in his grip, your free hand pressing flat against his chest to push him back. but instead of letting go, his hold tightened, his body impossibly close to yours now.

“gotcha,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear.

your heart pounded, and you hated how much you noticed the heat of his skin, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scent—clean and faintly woodsy—seemed to wrap around you.

“you really think this is over?” you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

his lips curved into a faint smirk, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of amusement in his usually serious expression. “you tell me.”

you leaned in, so close your lips nearly brushed his ear. “not even close.”

with a sharp twist, you broke free of his grip, your smoke bomb already in your hand. you tossed it at the ground, the room filling with a thick cloud of smoke as you made your escape.

“see you around, officer,” you called over your shoulder as you slipped into the night, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to think about.

you knew this wasn’t the end. not with him. and as much as you hated to admit it, part of you didn’t want it to be.

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

8

(T.W Sexual content)

Y/N

I feel the weight of Cait’s gaze on me even as we get into position for the drills. The tension is still thick, clinging to the air around us. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve let her down, but at the same time, something inside me rebels against her judgment. I’m not the same person I was yesterday, and I’m not sure if I can—or even want to—go back.

The sound of sneakers on the gym floor and Coach’s sharp instructions snap me out of my thoughts. I focus on the drills, pushing my body to keep moving, to not think too hard about the conversation that’s left a weird knot in my chest.

I glance over at Cait once more, but this time, she’s already looking away, her posture stiff, arms crossed over her chest. She’s not glaring anymore, but the distance between us is still there. It’s strange, how something as small as eyeliner can shift the way someone looks at you, and even stranger how it makes me question everything about myself.

Mel’s voice cuts through the silence, her usual easygoing tone filling the space between us. “You know, Cait’s just worried about you.” Her words are softer now, less guarded than they were earlier.

“I know,” I reply quietly, not meeting her eyes. “It’s just… I’m tired of playing it safe all the time.”

Mel gives me a small smile, like she gets it, even if she doesn’t say anything more.

The drills drag on, but my mind keeps wandering back to Cait’s disapproval, to the small voice inside me that wonders if maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m getting in over my head with all of this. But at the same time, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m closer to something real, something that’s mine.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

As per the request of my favorite nerd, I’ve been reading some good old Shakespeare.

I’m supposed to be diving into Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers, epic tragedy, all that jazz. It should be interesting, right?

But the words are swimming in front of me because, let’s face it, I can’t concentrate for shit.

Not after this morning.

Y/N just looked so fucking pretty.

It’s ridiculous how she doesn’t even try, yet manages to ruin me without saying a word.

The way her hair fell around her face, a little messy but still perfect, and those big, thoughtful eyes that always seem to see right through me.

And that eyeliner—my eyeliner—that I practically begged her to let me do. Seeing my work on her face, sharp and bold, was enough to drive me insane.

Like a little piece of me was with her, walking around, unshakable.

And then there’s the way she blushed when I teased her.

That soft pink creeping up her cheeks, her lips parting like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Makes me want to press closer, push her boundaries just a little more, see how far I can take it before she pushes back.

Or maybe she wouldn’t push back at all.

What would she be like?

I’ve never seen her with anyone—guy or girl. Hell, does she even like girls?

The thought twists in my chest.

What if she doesn’t?

What if all the teasing, the lingering glances, the way her cheeks flush when I get too close—it’s just her being her, too sweet to tell me to fuck off? But then, what if it’s not?

What if she does?

I wonder what she’d do with one. What she’d do with me.

Do to me.

My hand trails down.

Down.

"Fuck,"

I'm already soaked.

I wiggle out the dampened underwear quickly, and toss it somewhere.

Doesn't matter where, oh fuck.

I lock eyes with myself in the mirror as I spread my legs, as wide as they can go.

Fuck, what has she done to me?

My lipstick’s a mess, smeared from where my teeth dug in.

My thighs are trembling and I haven't even touched... anything yet...

Normally i would just get myself off, quick easy, but Y/N wouldn't do that.

I'm sure she'd been curious, the girl's definitely never seen a pussy before, and I'm not sure any of her books have those lewd acts in them.

My finger slowly circles my clit, fuck that's good.

Gonna go slow.

Y/N would go slow.

My head drops back on my pillow as I resume those slow, slow circles.

God it's torturous.

My unoccupied hand, somehow, finds its way to my tit, totally unprompted.

"Fuck,"

The words barley there this time.

My teeth sink into my lower lip again when I slip a finger inside of me.

Gentle, slow.

Then another finger.

I keep my eyes trained on my reflection as I start those motions.

In out, in out.

"Fuck, fuck, Y/N," I turn my face into my pillow, whimpering now.

I bite down on the pillow to supress my lewd noises.

My hips move with my hand, chasing that sweet, sweet, release.

Fuck what would she do if she could see this.

See the state she's made me into, all squirmy on my bed.

She'd probably get that wide eyed look.

Maybe she'd whimper-

Oh if she damn whimpered-

My thoughts are cut short by a practically pornographic noise ripping from my throat.

"Oh, oh god,"

The noises leaving me gradually become more incoherent.

I can't keep my eyes open anymore, those familiar white spots starting to cloud my vision.

I've had orgasms before, of course I have.

But this was fucking earth shattering.

I don't know if it was the thought of her, those wide eyes, that blush, that spurred me on or what, but my back arched right of the bed, what was practically a cry leaving my mouth.

After regaining function of my senses, I lock eyes with my reflection.

Fuck I look a mess.

I lean closer to the mirror, squinting at the mess.

Jesus Christ.

Smudged eyeliner, streaks of lipstick—no, stains, because apparently, my mouth decided it wanted to eat the damn tube.

"Goddamn," I hiss, swiping at it with my thumb. It just smears more. Great. Now I look like a clown that got into a bar fight.

My hair’s a disaster too—sticking to my forehead in sweaty clumps.

I rake a hand through it, but it’s hopeless. I look like I’ve been... well, doing exactly what I was doing.

The chill of the room finally hits me.

Oh, right.

Still butt-ass naked. My eyes dart around for anything to throw on and land on an oversized hoodie draped over the chair.

Good enough.

I yank it over my head, the fabric catching on my damp skin, and flop back onto my bed.

The hoodie clings to me, sticking uncomfortably in places, but I don’t have the energy to care.

My legs are sprawled out, the hem of the hoodie riding up enough to make it clear I’m not bothering with underwear.

I stare at the ceiling, trying to will my brain into some semblance of order.

It doesn’t work.

My thoughts are still a chaotic mess, flitting between random nonsense and her.

Always back to her.

Her laugh. Her stupid, perfect laugh that’s like sunshine and honey and all that other cheesy shit people write poetry about.

Her eyes—soft, but sharp when she’s focused, like she’s solving the universe one thought at a time.

And that little wrinkle she gets between her brows when she’s concentrating too hard?

Yeah, that one’s burned into my brain. Thanks for that, Y/N.

I groan, rolling onto my side and dragging a pillow over my face. “You’re pathetic,” I mumble into the fabric.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: another short chapter, but i felt it was quite important to have certain bits as their own entity, hope you like it ;)

please like and reblog!

[staylovesmiley]

Thoughts on dating hyunlix and telling them you’re pregnant

Hmm I have thoughts alright hehehehe

Sweet sweet hyunlix~ first I think I should go into my thoughts on what dating them would be like since that’s half of this ask mhm mhm

Dating Hyunjin and Felix is like laying down on sheets fresh from the dryer after you just had an everything shower (iykyk) between Hyune’s heavily romantic soul and Felix’s sweet and bubbly one it’s like you are dating an old historical drama love interest and a rom com love interest in the best ways!

I feel like Hyunnie would be very classically romantic as he has stated so many times how much of a romantic he is- like flowers just because, intimate dinners with either you, Felix, or all three of you, leaves you love notes he tucked in your purse before he left in the morning where he knows you will find it when you go to grab an essential item like hand sanitizer or your lip balm. He’s just a silly little lovesick fool~

Lix on the other hand is much more playful I think? He’s very flirty but also a little clumsy with it~ I think he would send you tiktoks and memes in lieu of love notes, but you Lego flowers you could build together over real ones, and his ideal dates are either kicking each others asses in Mario kart or going for an activity like a movie or an arcade! Whereas Hyunjin is classic romance Felix is young and fresh love and they mix together into something wonderful that you feel you could never get tired of~

They also both clearly are physical touch as love language people so I feel like they would never get enough cuddles, kisses, or hugs from you! You would be surrounded by affection of all kinds always and you are completely okay with that (but if you need time for yourself they are respectful and will cling to each other until you are ready to join them again)

Now to the second part of the ask~~

If you were to find out you were pregnant with Hyunlix baby while you were just dating I feel like they would be excited but a little scared- Hyunjin especially I feel would be a little pale at the news at first because he’s such a pabo how is he supposed to raise a baby and teach it things about life?! He is excited and loves the idea of starting a little family with his loves but gosh it’s scary okay?? Even if it’s something you want it’s scary especially since it wasn’t necessarily planned (at least in this scenario that’s what I’m going with-) but once he voices his fears to you and Felix you both reassure him and he relaxes, feeling so nice to have two partners to help and feeling less alone (this drama king- as if he’s the one carrying the baby and giving birth to it istg)

Felix would cry. Hands fucking down. Every time he thinks about it for too long after telling him he tears up with the happiness brimming inside him~ I think he would feel a bit more prepared for a baby than Hyune, even if it’s just because he can be a lil optimistically clueless hehehe he would be daydreaming immediately what life will be like with the four of you (or more- and if he starts thinking about you having multiples that’s when he gets a little nervous but for this scenario there is only one baby so he calms down again after the scans show that)

I’ll leave this as is for now unlike the Minsung one cause I feel like Hyunlix wouldn’t really change much how the treat you during pregnancy than outside of it? They’d be more attentive to you and your needs but they were already so doting the only things that feel specifically “baby/pregnancy” related is maybe Hyune dedicating hours to painting the nursery the closer your due date gets and he is so into it you won’t see him for hours and hours while he is working on it~ and Lix would for sure give your baby bump little fist bumps and talk to it as much as possible so “baby had an aussie accent~” but hey let’s be real he already successfully gave our aussie boy hyunjin an accent so I feel like the baby would also develop one as it grew (especially with the constant Bluey episodes he would put on for them ever since the womb hehehe)

[wroetominter]

Overwhelm - George Clarke

Pairing: George Clarke X FemReader

Warnings: none

Fluff - my fav.

I turned on my side in bed, feeling the relief of the cold side of my pillow against my cheek. Next to me in bed George slept peacefully. There was nothing romantic happening here, simply two good friends who enjoyed each others company. I can’t say that there weren’t feelings there, at least on my end there definitely were.

I peered my eyes at my phone on the nightstand, seeing it was only five thirty in the morning. I tried falling back asleep but couldn’t get my mind to shut off. The last few month had been a whirlwind of emotions.

Deciding since sleep was not happening, I may as well get up. I slowly slid out of bed, careful not to wake George. I grabbed his hoodie on his chair and pulled it over myself, smelling his cologne still lingering in the fabric. A scent I had come to find comforting.

I walked out to the living room, seeing the sun starting to creep over the horizon through the city view. I stepped outside and sat on one of the lounge chairs, pulling my legs up and hugging into them for some extra warmth and comfort.

As I sat there thinking, I began to feel filled with emotions. It wasn’t sad emotion, more so happy and overwhelmed all rolled into one. Tears freely flowed down my cheeks as my thoughts kept racing.

Torn from my thoughts by the door creaking open beside me, my head turned to the side to see who was coming outside. George stood there, his face immediately filled with concern when he took in my appearance.

“What’s wrong?” He came to sit beside me, wiping the tears from my face.

“Nothings wrong Geo, I’m sorry if I woke you.” I apologized. He shook his head.

“No no, well, kinda. I guess.” He scratched his head. “Bed felt empty and when I didn’t feel you beside me I knew something had to be wrong. Too early for you to be up.”

I sighed, looking back at him. His hand lightly rubbed my back in a soothing manner. He was too good to me sometimes. “What’s really wrong?” He pressed. He could read me like a book.

“Well, I was just sort of overwhelmed I guess. Everything I’ve ever wanted happened so quickly and I’m just really grateful I suppose. I have a job that doesn’t feel like work, I live in my favorite city in the world, I have the money to do whatever I want…” I trailed off, unsure if I wanted to break down the barriers further and admit to him that I had feelings for him and that also overwhelmed me.

Plucking up the courage as he stared at me, spilling my guts to him. “And I get to wake up next to the man of my dreams any time I want.” My hands fiddled together, trying to distract myself from the awkward tension I had unintentionally built.

“Man of your dreams?” George asked softly, placing his hand on mine.

I nodded, meeting his gaze. He had a soft smile on his lips and an almost unreadable expression.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” He admitted. I stared back at him dumbfounded. “You know I’m not good with the whole admitting feelings thing, I barely even told my friends I loved them until years into our friendship.” I giggled at his all too true comment.

“Well, I guess we’re both at fault for that then huh?” I asked. He nodded, pulling me in for a hug. I embraced his warmth and felt more comfortable than I had in a long time.

“Let’s go back to bed love, we’ll talk about this more when we’ve slept.” He grabbed my hand and led me back to his room.

I slid back to my side of the bed, cozying into the blankets.

“I reckon we’re up to the point you can sleep closer to me yeah?” George reached his arms out, pulling me over to him. I rested my head on his chest, intertwining our legs in a way that was comfortable for both of us.

“Get some sleep love.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

[loverangels]

taste

pairings: percy jackson x fem!reader

synopsis: percy really likes the taste of strawberries directly from your lips

strawberry divider by @bernardsbendystraws

The orchard was warm and lively, rows of fruit trees stretching endlessly under the summer sun. You stood on your tiptoes, reaching for the ripest strawberry you could find, your fingers brushing the leaves. Percy, of course, wasn’t far behind—holding the basket in one hand and stuffing berries into his mouth with the other.

“Percy,” you scolded, glancing back at him. “You’re supposed to collect the fruit, not eat it all before we even sit down.”

He gave you an innocent shrug, his sea-green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just… quality-checking. What if they’re bad? Wouldn’t want my girlfriend to eat a bad strawberry, now would I?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your grin as he followed you to the next row, stealing another berry on the way. Eventually, with the basket half-filled (thanks to you) and Percy’s hands stained red from sneaking more than his fair share, you found a shaded spot under a tree to sit and enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Plopping down on the blanket, you picked a glossy red strawberry from the basket and held it up to the sunlight, admiring its perfect shape before taking a slow, deliberate bite. Juice ran down your thumb, and you made a show of licking it off, casting Percy a sly look out of the corner of your eye.

He froze mid-grab for another berry, his eyebrows shooting up as a lopsided grin spread across his face. “Are you doing that on purpose?” he asked, tilting his head at you.

“Doing what?” you replied innocently, biting into the rest of the strawberry with a soft hum of approval.

His grin widened. “Oh, I see how it is.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You’re trying to drive me insane, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, picking up a grape this time, holding it between your teeth before slowly nibbling it in half. Percy groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. “You’re evil.”

“Maybe,” you said, picking another strawberry. You held it out to him this time, the bright red fruit perched between your fingers. “Want a taste?”

Percy’s eyes flicked to the strawberry, then back to you. His grin turned downright wicked as he leaned in, but instead of taking the fruit, his lips brushed yours instead—soft at first, then deeper, tasting the sweetness of the strawberry still lingering on your lips.

“Percy!” you gasped, pulling back in surprise, though the way his sea-green eyes sparkled made it hard to sound mad.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence as he leaned closer again, his hand brushing yours to pluck the strawberry from your grasp. “I did want a taste. Just figured I’d get the best of both worlds.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as he popped the fruit into his mouth, still grinning as if he hadn’t just completely stolen your breath.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, reaching for another piece of fruit, but Percy was already leaning in again, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as his hand rested casually on your knee.

“Sharing is caring, babe,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t hog all the sweetness.”

You tried to glare at him, but the way he was looking at you—with that perfect mix of mischief and adoration—made it impossible to stay mad. So instead, you grabbed another strawberry, took a bite, and smirked.

“Fine,” you said, leaning in just close enough to let your breath tickle his lips. “But if you want more, you’re going to have to work for it.”

Percy’s grin grew impossibly wider as he closed the gap between you again, clearly up for the challenge.

[crazyk-imagine]

Pack

Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader

Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Paul Lahote, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara V, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot again, it got cuter, Jake had a brain, Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, reader knows about imprint history, reader worries about Jake not having feelings for her, Jared is an idiot, Emily is that mom

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: Okay my fellow readers, I did it. I finally sat down and did part two

*will be edited at a later time

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

It was a hard few days after, well, learning that you were forever bonded to him.

You didn’t quite know what the right move was or if you should consider dating Jacob, even though he had clearly been in love with the whitest girl in Forks.

You gulp as you take a step back. “Could you,” you sigh, not wanting to lose it on the guy when he’s been nothing but nice to you since this whole thing happened. “Jake.”

He wasn’t paying attention and stepped closer to you again, wanting to get more bacon on his plate.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Jake! Would you please get out of my way before I declaw your paws!”

Jared glances back at the two of you, with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.

Paul doesn’t do anything to hide his amusement, much to Jacob’s chagrin. “Looks like the princess finally showed off her claws.”

He pats his pack mate’s shoulder, “glad it wasn’t your face that took the brunt of it.” Paul steps away, grabbing the muffin off your plate as he goes to sit down.

You shake your head; definitely not your finest moment. You don’t want to look at him because you don’t want to see his disappointment.

Jacob clears his throat, “we’re going to go outside.”

You open your mouth to argue as a piece of toast is shoved into your mouth.

-

“I bet that’s not what she imagined getting-” Paul doesn’t need to turn around to know his alpha is staring at him. He bolts out of the chair before anyone can take a breath.

“Paul, get back here.”

The hot head shakes his head as he shifts mid air, running into the woods.

Emily shakes her head sighing.

Jared nods, “I know. I don’t know why Paul thinks he won’t be reprimanded for saying things like that. I mean clearly, she’s going to be the dom over Jake, not the-”

He sheepishly smiles at the angry face his luna is making. “I didn’t mean it,” he sprints out the door. He looks over his shoulder and calls out the her, whining, “don’t call my mom.”

She smiles, picking up her landline, punching in the numbers. “Hi Mrs. Cameron, it’s Emily.”

A sad wolf howl can be heard from the side of the house.

-

You let him drag you out, unsure of what else to do as you feel down about how you behaved a few minutes ago. You pull the piece of toast out from your mouth. “If you’ve brought me here to kill me, just do it already.”

He scoffs, “I’m not a leech.”

“Oh, he has a heart, how wonderful.”

He rolls his eyes, “would it kill you to act normal?”

You immediately nod, “yes it would and how am I supposed to act normal when none of this is normal.”

He opens his mouth to say something when he realizes you’re right. “Okay fine, maybe none of this is normal but that doesn’t mean you need to act like it’s the end of the world.”

You scoff, “I’m not.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” he crosses his arms.

You can’t hold this in anymore.

“You know what, Jake. I’m tired. I’m so sick and tired of this- everything is so crazy and wrong and I,” you close your eyes, not wanting him to see you cry.

You lower your head, holding your breath, trying to keep yourself together.

He can sense your sadness and reaches for you, placing his hand on your arm.

You hiccup, taking a deep breath.

His eyes widen as he pulls you closer; his body heat warming you in a second.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, to calm yourself enough so you could talk to him without losing control of your emotions.

You can admit sometimes it does help to have a good crying session, but not when you need to talk.

He can tell with how slower your back is moving under his hand that you've managed to calm yourself down. He doesn't say anything to not startle you or break your concentration. He won't do that to you.

“I'm scared,” you mumble.

“Scared of what?”

You want to pull back so you can look into his eyes but you're afraid he won't understand and squeeze him tighter. “This isn't real.”

He opens his mouth to respond and stops, letting your words sink in. He can understand where you're coming from with him being in love with Bella for more than half of his young life but he also knows that this is real. Yes-

He sighs, lowering his chin to rest it on top of your head. “I know this doesn't seem real but it is. My love for Bella has nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

He squeezes you in a tight hug and pulls back. “I know things are all happening fast but I want us to work. You know, I- I can be whatever you want me to be. I can be a- a friend or a brother or more. I don't care as long as I can be in your life. We haven’t known each other long but I do know that I care for you more than I've ever cared for anyone that wasn't my family or, now the pack.”

He sucks in a nervous breath, showing off his pearly whites with his commonly new nervous grin. “I hope I didn't make things weird with that whole um-”

“Speech?” You interrupt.

He nods, “yeah that.”

You purse your lips to hide your amusement. “I,” you sigh. “I have more feelings for you than I thought I would, I'm not entirely sure what they are exactly. I know the bond isn't the whole reason why I feel the way I do but- I- if we're going to start, whatever this is going to be, this needs to start off slow. I don't just jump into things especially when it comes to starting a new relationship with someone.”

“So we're starting a new relationship?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes and smack him with your piece of toast. “God, you're just like a guy.”

“I am a guy.”

“Not right now you are. You're mister professing his love,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, make fun of me.” He sits down on a rock nearby, patting the open spot beside you. “I don't want to rush into anything either and I don't want to mess this up... more than I already have-”

You stand in front of him, shaking your head. “You haven't messed anything up.”

“I did. If I didn't you wouldn't have screamed at me-”

“I didn't scream.”

He owlishly blinks. “My ears were close to bleeding.”

Your jaw drops and you smack his arm. “You're so dramatic.”

“Not always.”

You roll your eyes, “sometimes you are.”

He nods, “yeah, I’ll admit that sometimes I am.”

You take a bite of your toast.

“I don’t know how that thing has lasted this entire time.”

You shrug, “I don’t either but here we are.” You slowly lean against him, resting your head on his warm shoulder. “You’re so warm.”

“I bet he could think of another way to warm you up.”

You roll your eyes at Paul’s comment. “Go suck Jared’s-”

Your uncle, still in his wolf form, growls at the two of you.

You take another bite of your toast and look away. “He started it,” you mumble while chewing.

“Let it go,” Jacob advises. “Or else he’ll make you do things you don’t want to do.”

You shake your head, enjoying the scene of Paul trying to run away from his alpha as Jared is on the floor cackling with Embry and Quil joining after the man falls face first into the dirt.

Brady and Collin trail behind the two boys, confused at the sight before them.

-

“I can’t believe I’m stuck here.” You sigh, throwing your head back against the couch.

“It’s not that bad.”

Your snaps towards Jacob, glaring at him. “I am sicker than- well you know.”

He stares at you with a deadpan expression. “You’re not funny.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

He nods, happy to see you finally agreeing with him.

“I’m a comedian.” You smile at him before coughing more, your sides start hurting more.

He carefully sits down beside you and hands you your cup of tea.

You breathe in the hot steam for a few minutes before taking a careful sip of the hot beverage.

He doesn’t stare at you (like you’d caught him doing a couple days ago, he doesn’t want you yelling at him again) and waits for you to ask him to set the mug on the table beside him.

He turns at the weight of your head resting against his shoulder and smiles softly at you as you close your eyes and breath in the steam.

His ears pick up on your slow breathing and he grabs the mug from you before you can drop it in your lap. He adjusts himself so you can lay on him, letting you use him as your “personal heater” as you said earlier.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken you out of the house and to the cliffs without a jacket the other day but he can’t deny, he likes you relying on him to take care of you.

He brushes away the few strands of fallen hair out of your face, studying your sleepy expression.

He thanks all the stars that aligned to make you his imprint, you are more than he could have ever wanted in a person. He knows now, as he listens to your breathing, his feelings for Bella are nothing compared to what he feels for you and will continue to feel for you.

He realizes he lied, he can’t be the kind of guy who’s like a brother or a friend to you.

He wants more; the wolf inside him needs more.

He would walk hundreds if not thousands of miles to be the only one to have a romantic relationship with you. He will wait as long as it takes until you feel ready to give your heart to him and chase off anyone he needs to.

He’s yours as you will (hopefully, fingers crossed) be his.

He can’t help himself as he leans forward and pecks your forehead, silently promising to spend his forever with you. 

Extra

Jared walks into your room, searching for Jacob. He needs help with his bike, hell if he knew how to describe what was happening to it.

His jaw drops, surprised to see you bundled in Jacob’s hold. He creeps into the room, practically tip-toeing to the person he needs to talk to.

He bends down and pokes Jacob’s shoulder.

The shifter barely opens his eyes as he lifts his arm to smack Jared in the back of the head, who opens his mouth to whine but is stopped by his friend covering his mouth.

“Make a sound and you’re dead.”

Jared nods, thankful for his shifter healing abilities; if he didn’t have them, he’d have a headache by now. “I need a favor.”

“You need a lot of things.”

Jared rolls his eyes, “okay, that’s fair but I need you to look at my bike.”

“Why?”

“It’s making that weird noise again.”

"Describe it to me."

“No. You made fun of me last time.”

“Fine, if I promise to not make fun of you, will you help describe it so I can figure out your issue.”

“I,” he sighs. “Roo- reer- r-” He stops when Jacob snickers. “You told me you-”

Jared falls on his back and struggles to understand what happened.

The door slams shut up the two boys.

“I told you not to go in there,” says Emily.

“You told me not to wake her,” Jared corrects her.

“And how did that work for you?”

The shifter stomps his feet as he walks down the stairs.

Jacob cackles at his friend's behavior.

“And look what the cat dragged in,” she teases him.

“Hardy-har.”

“I told him not to go in, I knew she’d kick you two out.”

He shrugs, “I know, I mean it was kind of my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have messed with Jarhead.”

“Is that princess’ new nickname?”

“Paul, shut up with that stupid nickname,” you shout from inside your room.

“Hey your voice is coming back,” the hothead comments.

You roll your eyes and open your door, glaring at one of your best friends. “Paul Isabel Lahote-”

“My middle name isn’t-”

“I know your middle name isn’t a girl's name,” you huff. “But your dumbass won’t shut up about this and I can’t take it anymore. You need to shut up so I can feel better.”

“Screaming like that won’t help you.”

You take a step forward and he takes off.

Emily shakes her head, “you’re just like your uncle.”

“Runs in the family, Em.”

Jacob steps forward and blocks your path from Paul. “You’re going back to bed.”

“But-”

He shakes his head, “bed.”

You sigh, “fine.” You sadly walk back into your room.

“Jake, tell me what you did. I can barely get her to help me be my wingman,” Embry whines.

“No one can help that.”

“You all are so rude.”

“We never claimed to be nice,” you say, voice muffled because of the door.

“I’m getting that now. I don’t even know why I shifted now.”

“You had no choice.”

“Shut up.”

Emily shakes her head at the sight of her kids (yes, she’s officially claimed you all) messing around with one another. 

Previously: Part I

-

Taglist

@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13

[solxamber]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSj1MUa7G/

I feel like this is something my Yuu would sing in the Mostro Lounge

Jealous!Yuu with Azul, Trey and Rook plss(seperate and romantic)

the song is so good omg, I've had it in my head since I saw this req. I've also reinterpretated the req a little bit, hope that's okay!

thank you for waiting so long <3

(also reader is pretty assertive in this)

Azul, Trey, Rook x Jealous! Reader

Azul Ashengrotto

The Mostro Lounge was buzzing, as always. Azul, in full business mode, was the perfect mix of charm and professionalism, pulling strings and striking deals with that silver tongue of his. It wasn’t hard to see why people were practically falling for him left and right.

And you? Oh, you were fuming.

It started with that one overly enthusiastic customer, leaning across the counter, giggling at everything Azul said. Then, a group of students practically lined up to thank him for his "kindness" (which you knew was probably tied to some convoluted contract). The final straw? Some guy who straight-up asked Azul if he wanted to "grab coffee sometime," while twirling his hair like he was in a cheesy romance movie.

You slammed down your empty drink and stood up so fast the chair screeched. Enough was enough.

The moment Azul stepped away from the crowd to retreat to his office, you were on him.

"Azul."

He froze, hand on the doorknob, and turned to face you. "Ah, is there something I can—"

You grabbed his tie and tugged, not too hard, but enough to shut him up and pull him closer. His glasses slipped down his nose as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Listen here, Azul," you started, voice low and firm. "I’ve been watching people fawn over you all night, and frankly, I’m this close to losing my mind."

"I-I beg your pardon?" he stammered, his usual eloquence completely deserting him.

"You know exactly what I mean," you huffed, glaring up at him. "You walk around, flashing that business smile, charming everyone without even trying, and it drives me crazy. When are you going to stop playing hard to get and make me yours already?"

Azul’s face turned a shade you didn’t even think was possible. "W-What?! I… I don’t—"

"You know I belong in your arms," you continued, taking a step closer, making him back up against the wall. "So what’s the holdup, huh? Or do you like torturing me by letting me watch all these people drool over you?"

Azul opened and closed his mouth a few times, utterly speechless. His glasses were fogging up slightly, and his hands hovered awkwardly at his sides as if he didn’t know where to put them.

"You’re jealous?" he finally managed to croak out, voice barely above a whisper.

"Beyond jealous," you admitted shamelessly. "And I’m done hiding it."

Azul’s blush deepened, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. "I… I had no idea you felt this way."

"Well, now you do." You leaned in slightly, smirking at how flustered he looked. "So? What’s it gonna be, Azul? Are you gonna make me yours, or do I have to endure another night of watching people throw themselves at you?"

He straightened his glasses, avoiding your gaze, but the small, shy smile that crept onto his lips gave him away. "I… would be honored to make you mine," he said softly, then added, "And for the record, I don’t care about anyone else throwing themselves at me. I only care about you."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but grin. "Took you long enough to admit it," you teased, finally letting go of his tie.

Azul chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… suppose I have a lot to learn about expressing myself."

"Don’t worry," you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I’ll teach you."

And judging by the way his blush deepened, he didn’t mind the idea one bit.

Trey Clover

The scene in the Heartslabyul kitchen was one you’d seen countless times before. Trey, sleeves rolled up, apron tied snugly around his waist, calmly mixing batter in a bowl as the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air. He always looked so perfectly in his element here, like nothing could ever faze him.

Unfortunately, your patience had absolutely been fazed.

"Did you see that? Trey is so cool and kind!"

"I’m thinking of confessing to him this weekend—do you think he likes roses or sweets more?"

The voices of swooning freshmen played on a loop in your mind, fueling the fire in your chest. Everywhere you went, someone was singing Trey’s praises. It didn’t help that he was everything they said and more—charming, steady, warm. He was the complete opposite of Riddle’s strictness, and freshmen flocked to him for it.

But they didn’t get to adore him like that. Not if you had anything to say about it.

you stormed into the kitchen, your footsteps firm and purposeful. Trey, ever composed, glanced up from his work and greeted you with a soft smile.

"What a surprise. I was just about to put these in the oven. Want to—"

"Cut the sweet talk, Clover," you interrupted, marching straight up to him and slamming your hands on the counter. His smile faltered slightly, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, setting the bowl aside and leaning casually against the counter, as if your obvious fury didn’t rattle him in the slightest.

"Yeah, something’s on my mind," you snapped. "I can’t take it anymore, Trey."

His brow arched slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Can’t take what, exactly?"

You stepped closer, effectively pinning him against the counter. Your tone softened, but your words carried the weight of everything you’d been holding back. "I can’t take watching people fall all over you. Every day, it’s the same thing—'Trey this,' 'Trey that,' 'Trey-senpai is so perfect.' And now I hear someone’s planning to confess to you this weekend?"

Trey tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You seem awfully worked up about this."

"Of course I’m worked up! I—" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you, Trey. You know I belong in your arms, so when are you going to stop torturing me and make me yours?"

For the first time, you saw Trey genuinely falter. His eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. But just as quickly, he regained his composure, his smile softening into something warmer, more genuine.

"So, you’re jealous," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

"Obviously," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And if you knew all along, you’re even more infuriating than I thought."

Trey chuckled, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to rush you. I was waiting for you to say it yourself."

"Well, I’ve said it now. What are you going to do about it?"

His smile turned fond as he reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I guess I should finally put you out of your misery, huh?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’ve been mine all along, you know," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "You… could’ve told me sooner," you mumbled, looking away.

"Where’s the fun in that?" he teased, though the sincerity in his tone betrayed how much he meant it. "Besides, it was worth the wait to hear you say it so passionately."

"Ugh, you’re a villain," you muttered, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Trey chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Villain or not, you’re stuck with me now."

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rook Hunt

Rook Hunt was everything you could want—and everything you couldn’t have. At least, that’s what it felt like.

His poetic words and boundless charm had drawn you in long ago, and you were certain they’d ensnared countless others just as easily. He was magnetic, otherworldly, impossible to ignore. And the way he spoke to people—praised them—was just… who he was. You understood that. You accepted it. But it didn’t stop the burning jealousy from clawing at your chest every time someone looked at him like he hung the moon.

Like today.

“I think Rook might be interested in me,” someone had whispered. “He said my laughter was like a melody carried on the wind!”

You’d laughed it off at the time, acting unaffected as you walked away, but the words echoed in your mind, leaving you restless and frustrated. Of course, Rook hadn’t meant it like that. You knew better than anyone how whimsical and effusive he could be. But it didn’t matter. Every glance he cast, every flowery compliment he offered, made you feel like your claim on him—if you even had one—was slipping through your fingers.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

By the time you found him in the courtyard, you were trembling—not from anger, but from the weight of everything you’d been holding back. Rook stood by a tree, gazing up at the branches with a soft smile, the winter sun casting a halo around his golden hair. When he noticed you approaching, his face lit up, and he greeted you in his usual fashion.

“Ah, mon trésor! How radiant you are today! To see you is to feel the sun’s warmth, even in the cold of—”

“Rook,” you interrupted, your voice tighter than you intended.

His smile faltered, replaced by an expression of mild concern. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

You stopped just a step away from him, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “No, not wrong. Just…” You hesitated, swallowing hard. “I need to say this before I lose my nerve.”

Rook tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes, and the sight of him—so open, so beautiful—made your heart ache.

“I know how you are,” you began, your voice shaking. “I know you love to compliment people, and that’s… fine. It’s part of who you are. But…” You looked away, embarrassed by the heat rising to your face. “I hate the way they look at you. The way they think they might have a chance with you.”

“Mon ange…” Rook murmured, his voice softening.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you said quickly, meeting his gaze again. “I could never ask you to change that. But I… I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

There it was. The truth, laid bare between you. Your heart pounded as silence stretched, and for the first time, you saw Rook genuinely stunned. His eyes widened, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

Then, slowly, a smile broke across his face—wide and radiant and filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Ah, mon amour,” he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion. “You are magnificent.”

Before you could respond, Rook closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he gazed at you with a reverence that stole your breath.

“Do you know how long I have waited to hear those words?” he whispered. “How I have longed for this moment?”

Your breath caught, your eyes searching his. “You… you waited?”

“Of course,” he said, his smile softening. “How could I not? You are the one who holds my heart, mon trésor. I could not give it to anyone else, no matter how many compliments I offer.”

The relief that washed over you was overwhelming, and you laughed—soft and shaky, but genuine. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Rook chuckled, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. “And you are extraordinary. Shall we make it official, then? Let the world know that we are one?”

Your heart swelled, and you nodded, a smile breaking across your face. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Rook beamed, his joy so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh again. And as he pulled you into his arms, spinning you around with the kind of exuberance only he could muster, you knew you’d never have to wonder if you belonged in his heart. You were already there.

Masterlist

[lynnieverse]

undertow // ripples

✰ third chapter!

✰ 2.7k words

✰ chapter song -> bubbly by colbie callait

✰ tags: morally grey, one-sided rivalry, mystery, mutual pining, tension, redemption

✰ a/n: Thanks for all the love so far! Enjoy!

Lennox was huddled over her desk, combing through all the notes and outlines from the site visit. She tugged on her hair in frustration, not because of the project—no, that was fine—but the man behind the project.

Rafe was…difficult, but she had to admit his ideas were good. He was serious about this, and that was something she hadn’t been prepared for. It was her first project, and she expected something much simpler. This was a lot more pressure. 

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Everything okay in here?” her dad asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yeah, everything’s great, just working out some kinks for budgeting and stuff.” She leaned back in her chair, giving him her full attention. 

“You’re doing great, Len, I know you’ve got this.” 

“You haven’t even seen anything yet.”

“I don’t have to, I know you won’t let this family down.” He left her with that, not helping her anxiety at all. She let her eyes close and let out a deep breath. 

It was fine, everything was fine. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

She met with Rafe the next day at the site, wanting to discuss and finalize the timeline for the project. 

That’s when shit hit the fan. 

“You are so fucking irritating! This is ridiculous Rafe!” Lennox snapped, waving her clipboard wildly. “You want this project done by next summer, but don’t have the basic infrastructure in place. The permits aren’t filed, the environmental reports are nonexistent, and the marina’s foundation isn’t even structurally sound!” 

Rafe leaned casually against the side of his Jeep, a smug smirk on his face that only pissed her off more. 

“That’s what you’re here for, Princess, to figure it all out. You’re the logistics person, right? So…logistically handle it.” He inflected his voice a bit at the end, trying to be cute. Instead it made her eye twitch. 

“Logistics don’t just magically solve themselves! There’s actual laws we have to follow! If we rush into this it’ll be over before it even begins!” Rafe pushed off the car and stepped closer, his voice sharpening. 

“It’s not rushing, Lennox, it’s moving efficiently. You’re just too scared to take a risk, like always.” His blue eyes blazed, daring her to challenge him. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You know exactly what it means. You’ve always been a little rule follower, terrified to do anything except what Daddy tells you. Too scared then, too scared now.” He was taunting her, and she knew it, but damn it if it didn’t work. Lennox jabbed a finger into his chest, jaw clenching in anger. 

“You know nothing about me. It’s not fear, Rafe, it’s called being realistic. You’re so desperate to prove you can do something on your own that you’re blind to how much work this actually takes. I’ve got the degree, and I’ve got more experience than you!” His smirk dropped and the tension crackled between them. All that could be heard was their labored breaths as they glared at each other. 

The construction crew had stopped to watch them, but she didn’t care. She was too angry, too fired up at his little entitled attitude. 

“You don’t get it,” he said finally, tone laced with frustration. “This is my chance to prove I’m not just a screw up.” His face was scrunched up, like he was fighting to keep his emotions from showing.  

“And you think the way to do that is by cutting corners and taking the easy way? If this fails, Rafe, it’s not just your name on the line. My reputation is tied to this too.” His eyes narrowed. 

“So that’s what this is about? Your perfect princess reputation?” 

“No. It’s about doing things the right way. Don’t be like your dad, be someone better.” This made his jaw clench and he looked away, clearly not enjoying that comparison. 

“Fine. Do what you have to do.” He stepped out of her space, and hopped in his car, speeding away without another word. Lennox knew she’d won, but something didn’t sit right in her chest. 

There was that damn pity again. She probably shouldn’t have thrown his dad in his face, but knew she was right. Cutting corners and being an asshole was what got Ward killed in the first place, and if he wanted to separate himself from that he had to be different. She had to tell him that.

Still, she didn’t like the regret that echoed afterwards. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Topper broke into her room later that night to invite her to yet another party. 

“Topper! Door plus locked equals don’t come in!” He just shrugged and flopped beside her on her bed. 

“So you’re coming right?” he said, poking her shoulder relentlessly. 

“Where is it?” 

“Kelce’s hosting this time, and no Rafe I swear.” He made a large “X” on his chest, pleading at her with his eyes. She dropped her head to the bed and groaned. 

“Fine, I’ll go.” Topper whooped and ran away, shouting something about getting shitfaced. She shook her head at her little brother, but couldn’t blame him. She wanted to get shitfaced too, especially after the day she’d had.

She quickly got to work on her makeup, hair, and outfit, opting for some cutoff shorts and a blue tank top this time. Strapping on her sandals, she grabbed her phone and skipped downstairs. Her parents were both at work, but she wrote a note anyway, just in case they ended up crashing there. 

Topper joined her a minute later, ushering her to the car so they could get going. 

“Come on! We’re already late.” Lennox rolled her eyes but listened, turning up the air conditioning and leaning her head back. When they arrived at Kelce's house, the party was in full swing. Lights were flickering, music was thumping, and there were so many people they spilled out onto the lawn. 

Lennox followed Topper up the driveway, her pulse racing in excitement. She loved parties once she got to them, convincing her to go was the hard part. As she stepped in the door she felt the energy pulsating around her. The faint smell of beer and sweat clogged up the dance floor. She needed a drink. 

“Come on Len, loosen up!” Topper called over his shoulder, already weaving through the crowd towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. Lennox opted to hang back, letting her eyes drift over the crowd of familiar faces. Kelce spotted her from across the room, sauntering over with a solo cup in his hand. 

“Lennox Thornton,” he drawled with a grin. “Long time no see! Topper drag you out?” She smiled politely and chuckled a bit. 

“Yeah, but I like a good party every now and again.”

“Well, welcome back to Figure Eight chaos; grab a drink, make yourself at home.” 

“Thanks, I might,” she nodded once as he disappeared back into the crowd. She found herself drifting around from group to group, joking around with people she hadn’t seen in years. She ended up with a drink in her hand from Topper’s friend Grace, a nice looking girl with red hair and glasses. 

She felt the rush of being a Thornton for the first time in a long time—the status, the stares…it was intoxicating, but also exhausting. Eventually she did end up alone, silently nursing her fourth, or maybe it was fifth, drink. She let the music and chatter wash over her, completely embracing the buzz. 

Topper had disappeared once again, no doubt in the middle of some drinking game she didn’t understand, but she didn’t mind. One thing she learned being away at college was how to be content on the sidelines, and making your own fun. She stumbled into the kitchen, and braced against the counter. Maybe she could just chill there a minute. 

As she was idly scrolling on her phone, she felt a presence behind her. 

“Lost in thought or just bored out of your mind?” a smooth voice broke through the noise. She glanced up, startled, and found herself face-to-face with someone she didn’t recognize. He was tall, with sun-streaked blonde hair and a charming, easygoing grin. His basic outfit gave away his Kook-status, but he seemed to lack the pretentiousness she usually felt from them. 

“Maybe both,” she raised an eyebrow. “You know how it is.” He chuckled and leaned against the counter next to her. 

“Yeah, I do. All these parties are the same…can get brain numbing after a while.”

“Exactly,” she laughed. “And you are?”

“Elliot,” he said, offering his hand. “And you’re Topper’s sister, right? Lennox?”

“Guilty,” she smiled, shaking his hand. “I take it, you know my brother?” 

“Everyone here knows Top,” he gestured to the crowd. “Hard to miss the guy yelling about tequila shots at two in the morning.” She snorted. 

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“What brings you out tonight? I haven’t seen you around much.” 

“I just moved back home from New York; I graduated college this past semester.”

“Oh nice! I go to Charleston—senior—and I’m home for the summer.”

“Do you like it there?” 

“Yeah, it’s great. No girls as pretty as you, though,” he nudged her with his elbow. Lennox felt a small flush rise to her cheeks and broke eye contact, taking a sip of her drink. 

“I’m sure,” she managed.

“It’s true, plus you’re the most entertaining thing at this party.” 

“Oh so that’s what this is? Entertainment?” she teased. 

“Not just entertainment,” he leaned closer, “I’d like to think I’m better company than the guy currently puking in the bushes.” Lennox laughed, the sound catching her off guard. 

“I’ll give you that,” she raised her cup at him.

“See? I’m already winning,” Elliot said, his grin widening. 

They settled into an easy conversation, the awkwardness of being strangers quickly fading. He had a natural charm that didn’t feel forced, and she found herself genuinely enjoying his company. They talked about the weirdness of coming back home, her family business, and even little things like surfing. 

As the night wore on she never left Elliot’s side, not even when some girls came over to recruit her for karaoke. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks, and the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—was impossible to ignore. 

“You know,” his voice dropped low, like it was some sort of secret. “I’m really glad I came tonight.” His face was hovering close to hers, and she felt his breath fan against her cheek. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up to tuck a flyaway hair behind her ear. 

“Careful, Elliot, you’re starting to sound like a flirt.”

“Starting to?” he joked. “I must be doing something wrong if you’re just now noticing.” She laughed slightly, eyes dropping to his lips. There was something disarming about him, a quiet confidence. She felt the tension melt off her shoulders the longer she spoke to him. 

Their faces inched closer and closer until their noses were touching. Lennox decided to mess with him a little, pulling back and looking him in the eye.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly. He snickered, shaking his head. 

“Tease.” She smiled and bit her lip, waiting for his next move while playing with the bottom of his shirt.  

“Hey, you want to get out of here? Maybe take a walk?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise, definitely not expecting that. 

“You’re asking me to leave a party with you after knowing me for all of…what? An hour?”

“Technically, it’s been two,” he said, checking an imaginary watch. Lennox rolled her eyes playfully. “And yeah, I am. Unless you’re down to hear Kelce butcher another Taylor Swift song.” She glanced towards the living room, where a bunch of boys were already screeching into a microphone. 

“You know what? Why not? Lead the way.” 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

He led her outside, the cool night air hitting her skin immediately. The noise from the party faded behind them as they strolled down the private dock Elliot found in the back. The moon reflected off the water, and the gentle sound of waves lapping against the wooden posts made the night feel quieter. 

“Better?” Elliot asked her. 

“Much. I needed a breather.” 

“Me too,” he leaned against the railing of the dock, looking out over the water. “Figure Eight is great, but it always feels like everyone’s trying too hard to prove something, you know?” Lennox nodded, moving to stand beside him. Her elbows rested against the wooden railing, wind blowing her hair out of her face.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Elliot turned his head, studying her. “You don’t seem like that though, you’re different.” 

Lennox chuckled softly, gazing at the dark water below. “Different how?” 

“I don’t know…you just seem indifferent to it all–the image, the competition. You’re just you, unapologetically.” Lennox looked at him curiously, feeling as if he was picking apart her soul. 

“That’s one way to put it.” 

“Am I wrong?” he pressed, catching her eye and making her smile.

“No, not exactly,” she admitted. “I just don’t see the point, you know? The fake smiles and blanket of superiority some of these people wear…it’s not real. None of it is.” Elliot was completely focused on her, looking deep in thought. “Outside of this place, nobody cares. You’re just like everyone else. I think that’s what I liked about the city, the anonymity.” She pursed her lips, shrugging her shoulders. 

“It’s like a game, and if you don’t play you’re invisible,” Elliot murmured, a far-away look in his eyes. 

“Maybe being invisible wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mused. 

He turned to face her fully, resting his side against the railing. “Not for someone like you. People notice you even if you aren’t trying.”

She raised her eyebrows, a small smile dancing on her lips. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

“I guess so, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased, nudging him slightly with her shoulder. For a moment they stood in companionable silence, just listening to the sounds of nature around them. 

Lennox shivered, and Elliot immediately shed his button down, leaving him in a tight white t-shirt. He turned Lennox to face him, wrapped the shirt around her, and put her arms through the sleeves. Lennox blushed, watching him with wonder. He smiled at her, gripping the fabric, and using it to pull her into him. 

“Hi,” he teased, the corner of his mouth curling up. 

“Hi,” she smiled. Then he kissed her. 

Their lips met gently, as if they were asking each other’s permission. Lennox’s hand travelled to his neck, playing with the ends of his hair as she deepened the kiss. Both Elliot’s hands were on her cheeks, thumbs moving back and forth slowly. 

She moaned as he bit her lip, earning her a groan from him. Eventually they broke apart, breathless. 

“Wow,” he said, staring down at her in awe. She laughed, looking down, unsure of how to respond. It was a good kiss, not Earth-shattering, but very good. Her phone lit up before she could. 

“It’s my brother,” she said, unlocking it immediately. “He says he’s ready to go and the Uber’s almost here.” She found herself disappointed, not wanting the night to end just yet. 

“Well, we better get you back then.” Elliot offered his hand and she took it, letting them swing back and forth as they made their way back down the dock. 

As they approached the house, Elliot stopped. 

“So, any chance I could take you out to dinner sometime?” She hesitated, but pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening up a new contact. 

“Here, put your number in.” Elliot chuckled, typing in his information and sending himself a text before handing it back. 

“Done. I’m holding you to that dinner, Thornton.”

“Good luck, I’m not an easy person to keep up with,” she smiled. 

“Me neither,” he shot back. She left him standing there, hands in his pockets with a dopey look on his face. 

Topper met her outside, slightly swaying, but overall not too bad. 

“Have fun, Top?” she laughed. 

“Oh yeah, Len, great. You?” 

“It was alright,” she smiled, keeping Elliot to herself.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~